When I started working the SA program, I really didn’t know anything about the Twelve Steps. I was relieved to find that Step One appeared to be so self-explanatory. It asked me to admit that I was powerless, and that was easy. I had already lost my marriage, my business, my house, and the care of my children.
On Halloween Day 2010, I stood at my father’s bed and held his hand and forehead as he passed on at age 90. It was time. His life had not been what he had wanted for the past three years—since a large heart attack—and his health had become gradually and steadily worse. So this was peaceful and a time of appropriate ending.
In recovery, I’ve learned to make prompt amends. In the past, when I wronged someone but did not make amends right away, the wrong would haunt me for days. A quick amends, however, can erase the toxicity of what I’ve done, and often creates a new connection with the other person (as well as with myself).
I like to look up definitions of words that seem important to me in the Twelve Steps. I use a 1934 Webster’s Dictionary that was current when the Big Book was being written. My love of studying these old definitions somehow turned into a love of making drawings based on them.
For me, the Steps and Traditions have been an education in humility. My first lesson came in Step One, when I recognized and admitted my powerlessness over lust. This humility developed further in Step Two, when I came to believe in a Power greater than myself, and Step Three, when I decided to place that Power in charge of my life.
My sponsor once suggested that I look up Twelve Step words in a dictionary. That request unleashed my interest in recovery-related words and led me to create several drawings illustrating the Twelve Steps.
Arriving in SA, all my powers spent, I entered a new world: a world where meetings, the White Book, the Twelve Steps of SA, a sponsor, and fellow sexaholics were already there waiting for me. Through these tools I received the gift of sobriety.
An important person in my religious tradition who lived at the turn of the 20th century was known to pray a “Litany of Humility” each day. I learned of this prayer long before I entered the program. Like many formal prayers I’ve known and prayed through the years, this one has gained deeper meaning for me since I received a new primary purpose.
Before I could truly work Step Eleven, I had to first find the God of my understanding. This was not easy for me. Even though I had worked the previous ten Steps with my sponsor, I realized that I still was not able to have conscious contact with God in any meaningful way.
In completing my Third Step, I followed a suggestion to write a letter to my Higher Power. I thought the suggestion a bit unusual until I realized that by taking Step Three, I would be in effect entering into a covenant of sorts with my Higher Power, and that a letter would be an effective way to document my side of the agreement.
