Joe H. delivers a gritty, non-linear account of a life spent as a 'spiritual thief' and a chameleon, moving from the cereal-industry wealth of Battle C. to the Michigan S.
Penitentiary and the casinos of Las V.. He describes his drinking not as a choice, but as a treatment for a lifelong spiritual malady that left him feeling out of place since age twelve. The narrative pivots on the 'anvil' he carried—a weight of guilt and ego—and the moment he finally dropped it in Denver.
Joe speaks candidly about the wreckage of his past, including the trauma of watching his father die while locked in a psych ward and the crushing guilt of a friend dying in his arms from drugs he bought. He emphasizes that recovery isn't about 'quitting' but about a spiritual awakening that removes the obsession, moving from a state of total hopelessness to a life of service in places as varied as Santa M. and Northern I..
My name is Joe Hawk, and I'm a recovered alcoholic. And I'm not the kind of guy you could tell, go as long as you want. I wore a jacket. I did wear a jacket. It's good to be here. Happy holidays. My home group, I was very...
My name is Joe Hawk, and I'm a recovered alcoholic. And I'm not the kind of guy you could tell, go as long as you want. I wore a jacket. I did wear a jacket. It's good to be here. Happy holidays. My home group, I was very touched when Chris was sharing. He's one of those guys you meet, or that I meet from time to time, and there's an instant connection, because you know you both are members of and have experienced not only the spirit of the fellowship that's described so wonderfully in our book that probably everybody in this room has felt maybe sometimes in your first meeting where you share with people with a common problem. Once in a while, here and there, share with people with a common solution. But the book also describes another fellowship within our fellowship, and that's the fellowship of the spirit rather than just the spirit of the fellowship. And, you know, way back then they said that here and there, once in a while, you will meet with people with a common problem. You will meet people who have had vital spiritual experiences. And I don't think that number has changed much, but you seem to be very fortunate in this group, in this room, to have that, that you share with other people and hopefully point them toward. And he's one of those guys that when I get to meet them, there's just this instant connection. And we know just from looking at each other that we have, joined in more than just this wonderful spirit in our fellowship, but something much deeper that we try to share with people that goes anywhere, that's not limited to the room, that's not limited to when you're sitting with your sponsor, that's not limited to when you're sitting with someone you're working with, but that goes everywhere, everywhere you go. I also relate to being amazed at watching, from a simple request, amazing things happening. He told me a little bit about how the head of this church had asked him to come here based on what he saw in somebody else. And you know, I always think that it started for me with step one. And I always seem to forget that it started, it started for me from the twelfth step in somebody else's heart, somebody else who cared about being there on a Friday night. And I don't think, it was definitely not his home group, and it might not have been a place he really wanted to be on a Friday night, but maybe that Friday night, and he was never there any other Friday night while I was there in that treatment center. It was in the basement of the place, it was a big room, it was an outside AA meeting that met there on Friday nights, and the rest of the time I was there in treatment, I never saw him on a Friday night. So maybe that was one of those nights where he got a strange idea that comes from nowhere, that he was supposed to go down to that place, and he might have come there not even knowing, he might have wanted to be home with his wonderful wife, but he came anyway. Because you start to trust something that goes on inside of you beyond desire or want, or even what's logical. And if you would have told me that when I was new, I would have said, what else is there but logic and reason and what I've learned? And thank God there's more than what I ever knew. And thank God there's something more than trusting this mind. And thank God this mind can be changed, and that that's promised to me. If you're new in Alcoholics Anonymous, welcome. I say recovered because I understand what alcoholism is, and I'm not suffering from it tonight, but please don't think that means cured. It is a promise from our founders, a false modesty that I don't suffer from, that they didn't either. For only one reason, not because I have brought myself to a recovered state. I say that for the new person for only one reason, Alcoholics Anonymous works. And I'm promised it on the first page of the first edition and the first forward of the first book ever printed. And none of those people had more than four years. I think our founder got sober in 35, the book came out in 39, and on their first page, not only did they say that this was the story of how more than 100 men and women had recovered from alcoholism. Okay, maybe they exaggerated on the number. That's not unique for an alcoholic, you know. If the fish was this big, it was really that big by the time I tell all that. But in their first forward they told us something that has been lost that I believe is our responsibility to remind people that the main purpose of this book is to show other alcoholics precisely how, in fact, how they are. how you can recover. My friend Frank, one of my heroes, he always says, if someone says they're recovering, it probably means they're not. And I think sometimes suffering from false modesty can hurt the new person. For me to stand here tonight and say that I'm well into my 21st year and I live with an unmanageable life and that I'm powerless and that I can justify all kinds of things because I'm a powerless alcoholic with an unmanageable life would not be anything attractive for somebody sitting here new. Something came between me and alcohol more than 20 years ago, August 17, 1982, and that, whatever it is, has been there ever since. And I do not live with an unmanageable life. If I do some stupid thing, it's not because I'm alcoholic anymore. It's because I'm blocked or I'm being selfish or irresponsible or not turning to the power that's been there for over 20 years. And if the problem is that you're powerless over alcohol and you're tired of living an unmanageable life, we have a recovery process that will not only get you in touch with something that's come between you and alcohol, but it will give you a life that you can begin to manage along certain lines all that you want. You'll be given, and I don't want to use words that aren't in our book, but in some places these would be like heresy. You will be given willpower that you can begin to properly use. You will be given a sixth sense beyond the five that you're used to being dominated by. And those are all promises in the big book. They will even tell you that sanity will return. That the problem with alcohol will be removed. And that you will be given the grace to maintain it. To maintain a fit spiritual condition. I see that as a gift. You know, if I could, you know, all the way from the third step till today, there's questions that just bring me to the reality of how my mind is. There's a great third step question when you're looking at running life on self-will or playing God. And the question is, if you would have had a little bit more to do with your own creation, wouldn't you have done a little better job? And in that giggle, you'll find how your mind thinks it could have done better, better than God Almighty, right? And, you know, today, you know, if I could self-will my spiritual growth, you all would be coming to visit me at an ashram in India rather than me coming to visit you, right? You know, I would have trans... The sad thing is, I would have transcended alcoholism and I would be of absolutely no use to anybody anymore. But if you know what alcoholism is, a physical craving and a mental obsession, rooted in a spiritual malady that I had full-blown before I ever took a drink, every description of untreated alcoholism, the spiritual malady, the unmanageability, whatever you want to call it, fits me before I ever took a drink. Now, I believe alcohol has something to do with that because alcohol worked, not because alcohol didn't work. One of the greatest first step questions I've ever heard asked when you have somebody who has maybe a lot of different stuff, you know, drugs, alcohol, whatever, is ask them to start to look at what treated it. What treated the spiritual malady? What took away the manifestations of page 52? What straightened you out? What gave you power to bring? Even if it was false, even if it didn't last that long. All of us got something from whatever it is and the sad thing is, most alcoholics will say that that drug, whether it's alcohol or whatever, was their drug of choice. I believe if you find something that finally, treats it, and you know what I mean when I say it, it probably became your drug of no choice. My drug of choice was yours. I was either going to take it from you or I wasn't. I also had some choice over some other drugs, but alcohol was my drug that treated it and that I soon had no choice over. And I have to say to you that if there is such a thing as a spiritual condition, if there is such a thing as, being in a fit spiritual condition, I believe in a fit spiritual condition there is about as much choice to drink as there was to not drink. And I believe that's also a promise in our book that you will be put in a position of neutrality. You haven't even sworn off. This new attitude about alcohol will just come. And if you look at every description in our book of somebody who went out behind the insanity, every one of them had the thought that maybe now today, I have a choice. So if you're sitting here tonight with however much time and you think you have a choice about grace, you might ask yourself whether it's a gift or an accomplishment. If it's something you've pulled off, then maybe today you have a choice. If it's something that's been given to you as a free, undeserved, thank God it's undeserved gift, you might see that you have about as much choice to drink as you did to not drink. And that's in a fit spiritual condition. Now, do I believe I could, slip from that? Do I believe, yes I do. Do I believe I'm cured? No. Do I believe I can drink alcohol? No. Do I believe even though I found out I'm not a drug addict that I could use drugs and not end up back on alcohol? No. I heard a story once that sums up a lot about my life and I'll tell you the story and then I'll tell you a little bit about what it was like, what I was like. Even that is misinterpreted sometimes from our lives. It's misinterpreted sometimes from our book. It doesn't say that I should tell you in a general way what it was like, what happened and what it's like now because that just leaves the new man one more time saying, well, what is it? And you can tell your story from a lot of different perspectives. You can tell them what it was like with your emotions and tell an entire story in through your sobriety focused on nothing but how you feel. And boy, that's a sad way to live. Missing dimensions of yourself and God. Whatever it is that is within us. I could tell you my story from a point of view of money. And if that's your focus from then, it's probably going to be your focus now. But I'll tell you this, I've never had enough money to fix a spiritual malady. My grand sponsor called me once, Gary B.. And he's one of these guys that will call and tell a story and then just hang up. And he calls and he says, Hi, this is Gary. He's like a very, very simple, pure individual. He's like a farmer. He lives in Indianapolis, Indiana. He sells fertilizer. He said, this is Gary. I wanted to call and tell you a story about a friend of mine. So I automatically think he's talking about somebody else. And he said, yeah, it's a friend of mine named Charlie. And every week, Charlie and I buy lottery tickets. And Charlie and I went last week to buy some lottery tickets. And Charlie said he wasn't buying lottery tickets anymore. And Gary asked him why. And Charlie says, well, I realized that the only reason I wanted to win the lottery was I could have enough money so I wouldn't have to trust God anymore. See ya. It's one of those delayed, what do they have like delayed action, Prozac now and delayed action. This is like one of those delayed action stories where like a week later it goes, ooh. It's like a delayed right cross. It takes about a week to hit you. You know, he was talking about me. That's me. That's me. You know. The story I can tell you about my life is, this is the story. My life was like a lake. And I'm about halfway across that lake. And it's getting really, really hard to swim. Because you know, I didn't really know it at the time, but I was swimming with a 20-pound anvil. And I'm going down. I'm going down for one of the last times. And I would, my head would pop up a little bit. And I saw the shore on one side. And there's these psychiatrists sitting in their chairs with their pipe and their goatee and the sofa. And I yelled out to them for help. And they said, well, it'll be a long, tedious, painful process. But we're going to find out what's wrong with you. And you're going to be able to cope with it and deal with it. And you won't have to swim there anymore. And my anvil got heavier. And I came up another time. And I looked over on the side of the shore. And there's people with a center, funny signboard. And funny signs on the trees. And I'd been to many of those places. And they said, you come on. It's only $30,000 a month. And we'll get you a big book. And when you leave, we're going to give you your relapse prevention program. And you're going to be able to prevent your next relapse. And my anvil got heavier. And I looked over another time when my head came up on one side of the lake. And there was these guys with briefcases, three-piece suits and ties. And I yelled to one of them. He said, well, we hear you. But we've got to go down to the state capitol. We're going to make it against the law for you to swim in there. And you won't be able to do that anymore. And my anvil got heavier. Finally, I looked on the last side of the lake. And there were some men with protractors and rulers and paper. And I yelled to one of them. He came to the shore. And he said, you hold on. We're going to build a bridge over there. And we'll pull you out. But we've got to go get a permit from the state. And my anvil got heavier. And when I couldn't see anywhere else, when I looked on all sides of the shore, this little cove appeared. And there was these people. Excuse me. And they were having a picnic. They had funny signs on the trees. First things first. Keep it simple. Think, think, think. And I yelled to one of them. And he came to the shore. And he called me my name. He said, dummy, drop the anvil. And I said, but it's been in the family for years. He said, that's OK. Drop the anvil. And they told me how to put one hand in front of the other and kick my feet and get to shore. And they wrapped me in a blanket. And they loved me ever since. And I believe if I keep doing what I'm doing, I don't ever have to swim back out there and pick up that anvil again. And that's what my life was like. The details sometimes separate us. The miracle and the truth of it, I think, brings us together. . . . First time many of you, myself included, the first time I read Bill's story, totally fell out of it. I don't fit. I've never been married. I'm not a stockbroker. And I've never been to war. How am I going to identify? And somebody gave me one simple, simple tool. And all of a sudden I was relating to three-fourths of it. I've seen women do this exercise and mark more that they can relate to than I did. Because all they said to me was, put aside the differences. Whether it's in a meeting, or reading a story, or listening to another member. Put aside the differences and look for the similarities. And look at how he felt. And look at how he thought. And look at how he drank. And my God, all of a sudden, given the right question, I'm identifying. Where my drinking took me is not important. Because I went to ten treatment centers doesn't make me any more alcoholic than you. I've known men and women who never went to treatment. Just as alcoholic as I am. That's not what makes me alcoholic. Where my drinking took me, a lot of hard drinkers end up. I've known hard drinkers who've been to treatment a lot more than I have. They're just people that can start when they want, stop when they want, get a little help. Our book even says that a hard drinker might need medical attention. He might find it hard. Alcohol might kill him way before his time. And sometimes we miss the real alcoholics when we're looking at drama or where their drinking took them. And we also hurt people when we look at those things. Because hard drinkers can have a much worse drunk log than you do or I do. But all they needed was a sufficiently strong reason and they can stop. I grew up in Battle Creek, Michigan. By the time I was 12 years old, Battle Creek was a little small for me. For my ego. And because I had had a spiritual awakening. Not as a result of the steps, but as a result of what treats it for me. Before I took my first drink, I was a withdrawn, quiet, lonely, out of place kid that was just spoiled, given everything I ever wanted. My grandfather was vice president of Post Cereal. My dad, I never knew my grandfather. When I was born, my dad was 60. And by the time I was 10, he was 70 years old. And I was convinced that's why I was alcoholic when I came to you. You know, we hear a lot about in California, I haven't heard it out here a lot, but you hear a lot of it. I'm sure you have heard about the yets. You know, I haven't done that yet. I haven't done that yet. I didn't have a lot of yets when I got here. But there's something else that goes on and it can't be just in my mind. I'm no longer unique. I believe if it goes on in my mind, it probably goes on in most alcoholic minds. And my little thing that we don't hear a lot about was the if-onlys. And you make your little if-only story. And if only daddy hadn't been that old when I was born. And if only I hadn't gone to that school in Webster, Massachusetts when I was 12, 13 years old. If only I hadn't hung out with those guys. You know, and I would hear your little if-only stories when I got here. And sometimes you said you were alcoholic because you were abused, or molested, or black, or poor. But I had to have my own little if-only story. And of course, mine was different than a lot of people's. And I would think things like, well, my dad wasn't an alcoholic, but maybe if he would have been, I would have learned my lesson. And I wouldn't have turned out the way I did. And if he wasn't 60 when I was born. Maybe if he would have been young. But see, the if-only story that would have made me whole always has to do with stuff out here. You know? And then I heard one day in Alcoholics Anonymous, somebody told my little if-only story. And they turned out just as sick as I did. You know, and I think if I really look at it, have I really discovered that much truth in the last 20 years? Or have I discovered lie after lie after lie? It's like wasting time trying to figure out God's will. When most of the time you're finding out what it's not to get closer to what it is. You know? I can't tell you lie after lie. I can tell you about lies I discovered in this year's inventory. All kinds of stuff. And I was this quiet, withdrawn. I'd look at my sister. My sister was the closest in age. She's five years older. Two brothers are off to college already by the time I was young. And my sister would get mad at my dad and yell and scream and say what she wants. She wanted. And they'd work it out. And the next day everything would be all right. And he'd say the same kind of stuff to me. And I would just take it in. I remember my mother screaming at me sometimes saying, Why don't you say? She would take my side against her husband. Time after time after time. And it just breaks your heart. And she'd say, Why don't you just stand up for yourself? And I wanted to be able to say I can't. But I was consumed with a question that is still consuming a lot of people in this room that I think it begins in what we share with them. And that question was way before I ever took a drink. What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? How come she can do it and I can't? How come all these people are telling me you have so much potential and I don't? If somebody would have said to me the needed power isn't there, lack of power is your dilemma, it wouldn't have done any good because a couple years later I found something that gave me power. You listen to a real alcoholic or a real addict and listen to them talk about the first time whatever their deal is that treats it, that treats the spiritual malady, the first time they recognize that it worked. They're not going to just describe some wimpy experience because some other people were doing it or it looked like fun or they liked to party and they still like to party. They're going to describe something similar to a spiritual awakening. You know, I felt whole the first time it worked. I could dance with those little girls across the gymnasium in school. I could say what I want to my dad. I felt, and if you really look at it, and I found this not too long ago, my first spiritual awakening when alcohol started to work is very similar to my last spiritual, my first spiritual awakening when alcohol quit working. My last day drunk is very similar to my first day drunk. One feels a little better when you wake up and it starts working, but isn't it interesting, that's like waking up, you think it's like the light and it really turns out to be the dark and then the one that's uncomfortable, you think you're going to die. That awakening is really into the light but it feels like the dark. My misconception through my life and through my sobriety based on an age-old belief that I brought here to Alcoholics Anonymous has damn near killed me, drunk and sober. And the belief is, if it feels good, it's good. It's of God. And if it feels bad, it's bad. And it's evil. And look at the number of times that before you get free, whether it's in therapy, the steps, the first step, alcohol, sponsors, look at how uncomfortable it is just before you get free. Guys will call me all the time, I'm starting to work, I'm saying this prayer for an open mind and a new experience or I'm writing inventory and I'm feeling miserable and I say, great, if you weren't, I would be worried. You know, you give somebody that prayer and have them in the first step for a while and they come over and everything's rosy and they're feeling really great, that's time to worry. A guy asked me once in the middle of a fifth step when there was no connection to it, I wasn't feeling nothing with it, he looked right at me and he said, I'm reading some stuff too. He said to me, do you care about any of this? And I realized how disconnected I can get from truth trying to avoid anything that makes me uncomfortable. We got people in our program on pills, we got people in our program avoiding the truth, getting so good at 10 or 11, you avoid anything that's going on or feeling anything because if it feels bad, it's bad. So my recovery begins a desperate search for comfort and you're really just dominated by doubt and discomfort. It's discomfort dragging you around. It took me some time in sobriety to see that. But I'll tell you at age 12 when I took a drink, I woke up, we stole some Cheves Regal from my dad's liquor cabinet. I like to say I started at the top and slowly worked my way down, you know. And from that night, Cheves Regal is still one of those liquors that if I even smell it, my stomach goes, you know, just from one night of Cheves Regal. You know, I don't need many nights to blow something out. That includes women, money, many, many things. I don't need much time to blow it out. You know, my heart was touched when Chris talked about being able to have impact on a room or some people that I've never met because I know what it's like to have impact on people that I've never met from a long distance that hurt them, terribly hurt them, you know, and the idea that can be changed around. To me, the idea that I would even be invited somewhere from where I come from is amazing. My sponsor told me, don't look for the miracles in big bangs and burning bushes. You've had enough of those. You did enough LSD. You did enough mescaline. You did enough peyote. I don't need any more big booms. What I need is to be able to see the miracle in you and little things. You know the first miracle that blew me away? I was invited home for Christmas and I had not been invited home for many years, you know. That's why you got to know a little bit about where people come from. There's a guy in my home group I talk about a lot. His name's Jaime. He's from Brighton Beach, New York. Got sober under the Brighton Beach boardwalk. At one time burned a part of that boardwalk down when he was drunk. He lived out of a shopping cart and he'd been a millionaire a couple times. He can't get home six blocks away to his wife and his kid. And he was given this gift. He lives in Santa Monica now. And let's say that maybe tonight he got up as a visitor and read something from the book. Most of you would say, what's the big deal? You know, he's just reading how it works or whatever, with 12 traditions or whatever. And what's the big deal? You would take it for granted. But if you knew, you would know that Jaime has never been able to read or write. And now he gets up at our home group and he reads how it works the other night at our Christmas party. I also had a great feeling in this room because it looks a lot like the room my home group started in 15 years ago. And 24 of us had started a workshop in the basement and 15 of us finished. And we were all in amends and we were wondering what to do. And one guy said, well, why don't we start a meeting focused on where we're at, steps 10, 11, and 12. And we started in the basement of that church in little kindergarten chairs right where we belonged. I was six years sober, had just moved to Los Angeles, and, God, the stories I could tell you about that group and what those people have done. I like the guys who will badmouth the group in other parts of Los Angeles and then hit the wall or drink or one of their sponsees they've tried everything with, drinks again, and they send them to our group. And they walk in and I think to myself, yeah, mm-hmm, you've had a lot to say about this group until you really needed to do something in Alcoholics Anonymous. And I am not going to do that. I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to do that. That's Alcoholics Anonymous. And I understand. That's me, six months sober. And, you know, the best description I've ever heard put of that day, that day, that day when you're done with step zero? Have any of you ever heard of step zero? I think some of you have. Step zero is that time between... This comes from a group in south-central L.A. I'd love to say that I made it up or my home group made it up, but this comes from a group where they're talking about life and death on a daily basis. And they're talking meetings aren't just milquetoast with people sitting there smiling at you. They will testify. They'll tell you, mm-hmm, uh-huh, amen. And if they don't like you, you'll know it. That's what I like about New Yorkers compared to most people from Los Angeles, is usually with most New Yorkers, there is no question about where they stand. Up front, genuine. In Los Angeles, they'll smile in your face. They're cool and laid back, and then blow somebody away on the highway for cutting them off and talk behind your back. And that's just the way it is. I like to call the West Coast the comfortable coast. It's all about comfort, image, fantasy. My God, I lived there for ten years in Los Angeles. The whole city is founded on creating illusion and fantasy. This group in South Central talks about Step Zero. And Step Zero is that period of time where you're not alone. You're not alone. There's a period of time between your last drink and when you submit yourself to the recovery process in our program. And they call it Zero because it's round and round and round, eliminating all the alternatives you can come up with until you get down to the last two, die an alcoholic death or live on a spiritual basis. That's why you're in Step Zero. I was in Step Zero for six months in this program, and I had some options to eliminate because I had rewritten the first step. I thought that little dash in there went fill in the blank and the the way I wanted to fill it in was like this yes I admit that I'm powerless over alcohol and drugs and that's why my life has become unmanageable so now that I'm not drinking or using anymore everything should be just hunky-dory and I had the alternative of sobriety to eliminate as an alternative just not drinking thank God I met my great grand sponsor Paul Martin from Chicago who says going to meetings and not drinking does not treat alcoholism and as a matter of fact it usually brings it to the surface and thank God there were people around me in Denver where I got sober where I was given this gift that talked about alcoholism and talked about the stuff that I was left with further away from my last drink than I'd ever been the stuff I'd been pouring alcohol on for 18 years so I took a drink at age 12 and I woke up and they don't know what to do with me in Battle Creek Michigan and my dad's 72 and my mom is you 42 I'll tell you this in therapy here's how we look at things in Alcoholics Anonymous different in therapy it was always back to what is it your root whatever it is your main thing your oldest your biggest issue whatever they want to call it they would always go back to mine and of course it was always toward my father and in therapy his age when I was born and as I grew up caused me a tremendous amount of pain but you know what the realization of his age gives me now on the other side of amends at his grave it gives me a tremendous amount of hope for my future because I'd like to be doing what my father was doing when I'm 70 years old right you can tell the ratio of new people to people that have been around for a while with that one right there's a tremendous amount of hope when you get freedom on the other side of the grave and I'm not going to lie to you I'm not going to lie to you I'm not going to lie to you I'm not going to lie to you I'm not going to lie to you I'm not going to lie to you I'm not going to lie to you I'm not going to lie to you I'm not going to lie to you hope from getting free of hate so they didn't know what to do with me god bless them I wouldn't have wanted to raise me when I was 12 years old if I was my father my god had worked his whole life it was time for him to travel and have some fun and my mother my god from her background she just didn't know what to do but the sad thing is when their question finally matches your question but you found a solution They start saying what's wrong with you when you finally found something that's right with you. You get what I mean? When something really starts to happen for you, you found some power, you've got a solution, drugs and alcohol are working, they start to say what's wrong with you when you finally found something that feels good, right? So their question changed. What's wrong with you? And what can you say to what's wrong with you when you finally found something that's right with you? And I'd look at them and I'd give them my old answer that I can't say anymore since I got sober. Three hardest words for me to say? I don't know. That's easy to say back then. That's hard to say when you're sober. Some people say when you ask them, it's always an indicator that they might not really be alcoholic. When you say, what's the three hardest words for an alcoholic to say? And they'll automatically say, I love you. Boy. A couple of drinks, I'll tell anybody in the world I love them, right? I can sit between a Republican and a Democrat and convince both of them that I love them, right? In the right bar on the right night. It's hard to say I don't know when you've been around for a while because we're expected to know, right? And sometimes you just don't. Boy, there's great freedom in that. After a period of time in this program, I don't know. What do you think? Oh, I would hate when Don would do that, when my sponsor would do that. He still has a giggle that drives me. Crazy. He's still a sponsor. When I want to call him to talk about one of you guys, he won't. Oh, I hate that. I want to call him and talk about somebody. So I found this solution at an early age. They send me off to private school. I have a great connection to the East Coast. Ninth, tenth, and eleventh grade in Webster, Mass. Near the Connecticut border, near Putnam, Connecticut. And in twelfth grade, they found it necessary to throw me out. My second week of my senior year, because I didn't understand. Just because I had six pounds of marijuana in my room, it didn't make sense to me why they would throw me out. And they did. And this was a school that my parents thought was an upstanding prep school. And I guess it was. I guess they had some sort of reputation. But in my favor, it was a school used by Richard Alpert and Timothy Leary at Harvard, where they sent one of their chemists to make LSD. And he taught chemistry there. And he made about $50,000. He made about $50,000 hits of LSD every month. And there I was. And I went from Boone's Farm apple wine on weekends with friends in Battle Creek, Michigan, to LSD 25 in a six-month period and down in the Boston Common. That's a bit of a culture shock and a shift in consciousness like I loved. Because I desperately needed a solution. Alcohol and drugs were not my problem. You'll find that out when you look at if they worked or not. And you'll find out that when they... When they're out of the picture and the problem is still there. Thank God for alcohol and drugs. Thank God for every drop I ever drank. Don't hate alcohol. It was our friend that brought you to a spiritual awakening. Brought you to a state of grace. Thank God for resentment. Thank God for fear. Make friends with your internal enemies or they'll be your enemies. Make friends with them. They don't have any power anymore. And you can say, thank God, Mr. Resentment. You brought me back to God again tonight. Thank God. Thank God, Mr. Fear. You brought me back to God again. You brought me closer to you. And a lot of the stuff I thought used to block me from God and a lot of the stuff I used to thought brought me closer to God is really the opposite. A lot of the stuff that I used to think blocks me is what brings me closer. And a lot of the stuff I used to think brought me closer. So what would be some of the things that you think bring you closer to God but it's really taking you further away? Self-esteem. Accomplishments. Greatest way to miss the miracles in your life is to take the credit and turn them into accomplishments. You'll miss most of the miracles in your life. What are some of the things that can bring me closer to God that I thought were bad? Resentment. Fear. Alcohol. Another thing that will keep you from finding God you think is really cool is conception. Ideas. Words about God. It's a great block to consciousness. I am much more interested in consciousness than I am in conception anymore. Because any idea about God isn't. I believe that. Any idea about God is not God because once you put an idea on it you've just put it in a box and you've limited it. We're promised a conscious contact. Like in your consciousness. Not in your ideas. And I found the consciousness of the presence of alcohol brought about every promise in our big book. Except one single promise. One set of promises. That aren't talked about that much. You go home tonight if you're new and you have never seen this. You go home tonight and put before every one of those nine step promises. The ones that say you'll be amazed before you're halfway through amends. And put before each of those promises when alcohol was working. And you'll find that alcohol if it worked for you brought about every one of those promises. Fear of economic insecurity would leave. You'd buy everybody a drink. Fight the fear would leave. No matter how far down the scale. You'd gone you thought your experience could benefit others. You're sitting there living on skid row giving advice to a physicist next to you in the bar. All of them. You'll comprehend the word serenity and you'll know peace. But then it stops working. And before alcohol stopped working. See I don't know the difference between the true and the false. And to me a lot of that has to do with I can't see the difference between what it's doing to me. And what it's doing for me. And I'll hold on to the idea that it's going to do a little bit for me. Than it's going to do to me. But all of a sudden it wasn't working anymore. And you stand at that turning point. You can't imagine life either with or without alcohol one more minute. And before I was done it had taken me to the Michigan State Penitentiary. At age 19. I had six years of fun. Woodstock, hippie, commune. All over the country having a ball. 7th grade in Webster. 12th grade near Hyde Park, New York. Right up here on the Hudson. I loved that school. That school was half nuts and half freaks. And if you were high enough you didn't know the difference. And we would get high and go around to the nuts rooms. I remember a guy, Phil Hall. Evening news every evening at 6 o'clock in his room. We'd get high and we'd go to his room. And these were nuts that could function in school. And get good grades. And the freaks could barely function. And we were worse off than they were. The Anderson School in Statsburg, New York. I would like to write a book about that school one day. Or a story. Ma and Pa lived up on the hill. And they had this little wimpy son. And had to sit at these tables with Ma and Pa. And we would take LSD. And drink alcohol. A maniac from New York City that went there. I was a senior, he was a junior. He had taken so much LSD by the time he was a junior in high school. He had thalidomide poisoning of the bone marrow. Michael Glickhouse. He'd watched his father killed on the streets in Queens with acid thrown in his face. I met some great guys in high school. My sister came to my graduation and said she'd never seen anything more bizarre in her life. Than my senior class. It was a small class. About 20, 25 probably. And it freaked my sister out. They were all so bizarre looking. And I was bizarre. And I had fun. And then I had six years of trouble. And my third felony. Arrest. Daddy had bought me out of the first two. A sale of marijuana when it was 20 to life still. Daddy bought me out. Armed robbery. I was going to get 20 to life. Daddy persuaded the man who was going to testify that might not be a good idea. Or at least some of my dad's friends. And by my third felony my dad was dead. And my dad had died in the same hospital I was locked up in. I'm in the psych ward. He's in the intensive care unit. And they brought me from that psych ward to his bed. And I got to watch him die. And two days later they let me go to his funeral. But with a guard. Because I was basically in jail. But I'm in a little white room. And my mother said to me for the first time in seven years. Please don't show up drunk. And with all my heart. And I meant it. With no little plan. I'm 35 days away from a drink having been locked in this little white room. Didn't even want to. You see I drank past choice a long time ago. Right. I said to my mom I will not show up drunk at my dad's funeral. But I'd like to go across the street and say hello to an old friend. And I didn't even have that plan in the back of my mind. It wasn't even a trick. I'm scared because there's a guard with me at my mother's house. And I went across the street to say hello to a friend. He said don't you think you ought to have two beers to take the edge off before your dad's funeral. I said that sounds like a joke. I said that sounds like a good idea. You know it's not the lies that take us out. It's the truth that take us out. Because you know what? Two beers would not have been a bad idea to take the edge off. But I forget. And I had like 20. And I showed up so drunk at my dad's funeral I didn't even know how they let me go. And they did. And they tied me to a tree by my ankle with a chain at my own father's funeral. I was the only blood relative at the funeral. And I had people in my family saying why are you here? And had to live with that. And had to live with that. Until I could go to his grave nine years later in sobriety. And make amends at his grave. Don't ever let anybody tell you you can't make amends to someone who's dead. My two most powerful amends in my life to the two men I was the closest to in my life were at grave sites. And I've heard many many people and there's probably some stories in this room of grave site amends where people have amazing experiences. The other one was a man I met around that time. I was 17. He was 34. And he took four of us under his wing. We all put one of these stars in our hands when we were 17. They're all dead. I'm the only one left. He died several years later in my arms of a drug overdose of drugs that I bought with my money. And I lived with that. How it would feel if you thought of the closest man in your life. Whether it was your father or somebody else. How would you have felt if you actually thought you killed him. And I lived with that from 20 years. From 24 to 33. And on my third birthday in Alcoholics Anonymous I'm in Las Vegas and that's where his grave is. And I had been in Las Vegas three, four times a year those first three years of sobriety. And I woke up on my third AA birthday and I had made amends to him through a letter that I read to somebody else. I'd made amends to his mother and his father and his sister and his brother. And I knew there was a piece missing because every time in Vegas there's resistance to going to his grave. I'd gone to my dad's grave. I had made 350 amends in those three years. I got on the other side of my first set of amends. It took me two times starting the work to get through it once. And through it I mean I was done with every amends I was consciously aware of even though some would be ongoing. Some would still be. I had made every approach that I could. And I woke up on my third birthday in Las Vegas, Nevada with three friends. That was ironic that there was four of us there the day I needed to go to his grave. And I woke up and the resistance was gone and my intuition said today you're going. And we got a driver and we went out to Henderson, Nevada and I walked to his grave like it was yesterday. And I got down on my knees and I said what I needed to say. And I finished saying what I needed to say and I looked down and I was there on the anniversary of his death. And it was my sobriety day. Just a different year. August 17th he had died. And I thought wow God is great. God is good. You know. My ideas are always way selling my shelf short. So I had six years of fun, six years of trouble. I get out of the penitentiary when I'm 21. I was in the penitentiary during my formative years. 19 to 21. And I learned a lot. And I don't like to admit this but one of the games I learned in prison that I consciously came up with the day I entered. And it worked for me all the way through. Because I had just enough psychology background. Before I got there to be dangerous to myself and everybody around me. The game was I'm going to learn to talk to anybody at whatever level they're at from now on. And that's what's going to get me through. From mass murderers to geniuses. I prided myself that I could talk to anybody about anything. I sat with a guy one time in the yard in the penitentiary before they sent me out to a camp. And for one hour he didn't know that I knew nothing about playing chess. And I sat there. Because you know what I am? I'm a chameleon and I'm a thief. And if you never even stole anything you might be a thief like me too. A spiritual thief. We take a little from this guy. A little from this guy. A little from this book. A little from that movie. We take stuff from people we don't even like and try to put it in here and make it real. That's why Don meant when he said to me when I was new. The truth won't work for you. The truth won't work for you. You have a unique ability to take it in here. Say aha. I'm going to use that. Put an edge on it. Spin it around for your own benefit. And by the time I'm done with it it's no longer the truth. And I understood that. My sponsor is a very loving man. But he also loves me enough to tell me the truth. It's very hard to find people in Alcoholics Anonymous that will risk your sensitive alcoholic feelings. Because they care more about whether you live and die than how you might feel about what they have to say. I would say things to Don like I feel inferior. And insecure. And his eyes would light up which I can recognize now. And he would say do you want to know why you feel inferior and insecure? Now 20 years later I'd think a little bit before I would answer that. But I didn't know any better then. Thank God. Thank God you don't know any better when you don't know any better. And I didn't have nothing better to come up with. And when you got something better to come up with you don't know any better. You know better. And I didn't know any better. And if that makes any sense. And if that made sense to you there's a good chance that you're alcoholic. Made perfect sense to me. I said yeah I'd like to know why I feel inferior and insecure. I've been looking for the answer to that in all these treatment centers and the degree and all the places I've worked in treatment. He said do you really want to know why you feel inferior and insecure? And I thought it was going to be heavy. Freudian. There would definitely be somebody to pin it on. And I said I'd love to know why I feel that way. He says because you're inferior and insecure. And I thought my God how simple. You mean lack of power really means lack of power. Yeah. You mean there is a solution really means there. You know there is a solution doesn't mean there is a solution anymore in Alcoholics Anonymous. In some places. How it works doesn't mean how it works anymore. They got a lot of how it works. They got a lot of alternatives. And they don't even tell you anymore where the message is. God bless them they should say that this home group tonight is the same as a meeting online. That's going to be changed and it has been from what I understand. But they made a much worse statement. On the paper cover that we always throw away when we get one. How many years was it before I saw the third edition that I grew up with says that the first hundred and sixty four pages is the AA message. I didn't see that for a long time. I knew it was that's where they told me I was it was and that I would find it out here in you and I would find it in being of service. We lost our circle and triangle because of our responsibility. Our troubles are of nobody else's making. And just like Bill said the message of Alcoholics Anonymous is dying right now. From the inside out. Because on the paper cover now it doesn't say page one through one hundred and sixty four is the AA message. It says page one through one hundred and sixty four. It's not even the foundation for many of you. So it's not even something that's relevant anymore. The book is now a novel. It's a history book. It's not a text. It's not where the message is. And they made a big mistake because it's hard enough to find the message nowadays. And we don't even have anything anymore to show new people. This is what our founders intended. This is what they laid out. And this is the AA message. It's not easy to find the AA message anymore. It was hard enough. It was hard enough 20 years ago in Denver where they do the work. Thank God for people like you that were there. Because I'll tell you after six years of trouble. And then that man who was closer than my own father dying in my arms. And a part of me died and I lost everything. I came out of the penitentiary with an unrealistic dream that came true. I came out of the penitentiary with a dream to be a blackjack dealer in Las Vegas, Nevada. With a penthouse, some cars, clothes and girlfriends. That's an unrealistic dream when you're an ex-felon. Two years after getting out of prison, I'm a blackjack dealer at the Dunes Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada. My dream came true. The man who was closer than my own father died in my arms of a drug overdose of drugs that I bought. And part of me died. And I went to a place I'd heard about. And I heard there was no treatment centers there because I gave up on that too. And it's hard to give up on treatment when you've still got a good Blue Cross Blue Shield card that's good for 30 days of treatment every single year. Threw that Blue Cross Blue Shield card away. Got on a plane, literally in kind of a little chase scene of some people that were after me. And I also forgot to say what I was sent to prison for. The felony that Daddy didn't buy me out of. The felony that the judge said, I'm sorry, your dad's dead, he's not getting you out of this. That was cashing $55,000 worth of $136 payroll checks in five days. And they weren't mine. And... They called it forgery. I like the charge I was actually convicted of was attempted uttering and publishing because that sounds like maybe I'm an author. And that's what I went to prison for. And I was one of the only guilty people in the entire penitentiary. I was guilty. I did it. Yes, I did. I actually did. And found great pride in it. That's the messed up thing. Alcoholics will find pride in some of the strangest things that other people in the world... I walked into a meeting late one time. In some strange city. And I don't usually walk in late. And there was no literature. No things. No steps. No traditions on the board. People were just sharing. They weren't even saying alcoholic. After about 15 minutes, I'm wondering. You know, because it's hard to tell sometimes nowadays. I actually thought to myself, is this an AA meeting? And then somebody shared and said, I'm the most selfish person in the room. And then three more people debated. No, I'm the most selfish person in the room. And I knew I was home. I knew I was in Alcoholics Anonymous. I thought JC's would never find great virtue in being the most selfish person in the room. We'll find virtue in anything we can possibly get, you know. And everything I got away with just increased my ego. Right? I used to find great virtue in saying, I've been to treatment ten times. That's not something one would be proud of in most places in the world. Right? And this guy died in my arms. And I went to Key West. And I basically gave up. And I wanted to die. And I couldn't pull that off. See, the messed up thing is we're not people who have been successful at dying an alcoholic death. Those that have been successful at dying alcoholic deaths are not here tonight. So when the book says that that's not an easy alternative to dying an alcoholic death, we have a lot of experience with not being able to pull off dying. But we also have a lot of experience of not being able to pull off living. And that's a great place to be in to be ready for the program of Alcoholics Anonymous. You're a failure at living. You're a failure at dying. There's nowhere to go. You're out of alternatives. Step zero is over. And bang, you've got two alternatives. And then you find out you don't even have those two. They pull the rug out from under you when you finally admit that dying an alcoholic death and living on a spiritual basis are your only two alternatives. And you see that you can't pull either of those off. And there's no choice in that matter. And you go from having two alternatives to none. That's the first step. I can't even pull off dying an alcoholic death. I'm powerless over living. I'm powerless over dying. And I can't manage my own life. And it ain't out here. Because at six months, everything out here was better. And that's baffling for somebody like me that thinks if you just get it all right out here because that's what messed you up in the first place because of my little if only story. If I just get it right out here. And after six months, it was better out here than it had been in many years. Little car, little income from the family. Don't have to work right away. They're going to support me in my recovery. Oh, God. And little girlfriend, little apartment. Didn't you used to hate those times when the family would get behind you one more time because deep down inside you know, ooh, I'm going to break their heart again. When they would all write, we finally trust you this time. Ooh, God. My mother was a little more realistic. Twenty years ago when I got sober, she said it was six years before she trusted me. And I have no right to expect anybody in my life to not feel that way. So if you're a couple years sober or you're sober or your first time in the work and they're not doing what you want and they haven't rallied up behind you and given you your kids back or trust you 100% or the ex-wife's a little worried, good. Because maybe you're not going to have to break their heart again. Because God forbid my family didn't need one more thing from me. They didn't need any. You know what my game was towards the end? Those last six years in Key West? I'd call Battle Creek. I'd say a few simple words. I'm coming home. My mother would say, no, you're not. There's too many. Battle Creek's been too small for you since you were 12. There's a lot of people after you. How much do you want? I was paid to stay away for a long time. There were times in Key West where guys would follow me to Western Union that I owed money. They'd follow me down the street because they knew that money was going to be gone quickly. I was going to run up every bill in town for a while. And then I would get some more. And it might be another month. And they'd follow me to Western Union. And I'd pay them off. I tried to leave Key West five times when I knew I was physically going to die. Every year I'd get a little sicker. But there's no treatment centers. And that's not an option for me anymore. I've given up on treatment. But every year physically would be something. I remember once they found me passed out in a phone booth in Key West. And whatever it is, I still don't know what the electrolyte level in my body is. But it was zero. I don't know how bad that is. But it was zero. And the next year my body would be a little bit worse. And by the sixth year I knew I was going to physically die. And there was just that little part of me that didn't want to. Five times I tried to leave Key West. I'd make it to Miami. I'd walk into a bar. I'd spend all my money. I'd go back to Key West. The needed power wasn't there. But I had all kinds of knowledge about myself. Thank God for that knowledge. Because you know what? I had to come up with a plan to trick myself to leave Key West. And make it impossible. And make it impossible for me to stay there. And I carried it out on myself. And the plan was rip off enough people. And one day you're going to have to go. Because you can't muster up the power to get out of here. And one day I ripped off the right guy. If I would have known I was going to have to go back to him several years later and make amends. I would have done it anyway. I would have done it anyway. And I ripped off the right guy. And I had to go one day quickly. He was a Cuban guy. He was a big time drug dealer. And I ripped him off. And I had to go. And I had one guy left to call. I'd known him since I was seven years old. And he was my last friend in the world. And I called him. He said, you come to Denver. But we can't party. Because I've met someone I want to spend the rest of my life with. And she doesn't like me to party. And you know I love to party. But I'm not like you. He knew that. I didn't know that. I went to Denver because I didn't want to drink. No matter what. My God, can you imagine just the little I've told you in my story. Coming into a meeting of alcoholics. Anonymous. And somebody that looks healthy. That might have what I want. Saying to a guy like me, we just don't drink. No matter what. And I'm headed for the door. And I'm starting to experience the worst thing for an alcoholic that they could ever experience. And that is feeling out of place. In alcoholics. Anonymous. When a real alcoholic is made to feel out of place in the last place he knows he has to go. And I started to feel that way. From people telling me what a hard drinker can do. That I would have a choice. Or that they just don't use or drink or use no matter what. Or just put the plug in the jug and don't drink between meetings. Because I drink no matter what. I can't keep the plug in the jug. And I can't fix myself. And I'm terrified when they talk about being able to fix themselves. And all they would have had to say in Los Angeles when I got there five years sober. That wouldn't have sounded confusing. When they say we just don't drink no matter what. If they just weren't sober. If they just weren't afraid to talk about God. And they could say by the grace of God. I haven't found it necessary to take a drink no matter what. But we don't want to scare the newcomer away with God. And we certainly don't want to talk about alcohol. And my question to those people is what else is there? What else is there really except booze and God? There is no problem I've suffered from in 20 years where there isn't a drink behind it. And I have never found a solution where there isn't God in the middle of it. So what else is there really? They used to say in Denver you know where they care more about Alkies living and dying. They used to say if God scares them away booze will bring them back. Or vice versa. And I found that to be true. And my book says that you and I should not be shy about this matter of God. We might not want to scare people away with sectarian religion. But by the grace of God something happened in Denver. When that guy left me on a street corner two weeks later because she threw us both out. And he broke her heart. And I broke his heart. And he said I can't stand watching you die. And left me on a corner 30 years old in Denver, Colorado. And I was more scared than when I was 19 years old put in the Michigan State Penitentiary. And I didn't know why because I wasn't doing anything illegal anymore. Two days later I do what I know to do and I went to treatment. I stayed two days. I had to have a drink. I don't know if you've ever seen this grape juice commercial or not. But there's a great commercial. A little guy with purple all over his lips. And he says when you got to have a drink you got to have a drink. And I was not in the grace of God. And I left that treatment center after two days because I had to have a drink. And then for eight weeks I went up and down this street, Kofax Avenue in Denver. And why I thought I had to move every two or three days I have no idea. And I would move. And I'm not doing anything illegal and I'm paranoid. And I guess it was the advanced stages of alcoholism. And thank God the grace of God came into my life because since that day August 17, 1982 until I heard it put into words that were given to me I never felt right saying that I quit drinking. Have any of you ever felt a little strange when out of your mouth comes I quit drinking on whatever your date was? And it feels like it's not right? I never felt right saying I quit drinking August 17, 1982. Because you know what? I woke up on August 17, 1982 and couldn't drink for the first time in 18 years. And it was an experience that scared the hell out of me because I couldn't imagine not drinking. I could have imagined going on drinking. I could have imagined dying soon from drinking. But I woke up and physically couldn't drink. And I wasn't any sicker. There wasn't any drama. There wasn't anybody banging on the door. And I had a spiritual awakening. But sometimes an awakening like that will scare the heck out of you. Because you don't know. Because you don't know what it is. And I couldn't drink. And I called that treatment center back. And he said, you can come back. But we found out about you when you left because we were worried about you. And we know how many treatment centers you've been to. And we know you've been a therapist. And we know you have a degree. But if you come back and if you really want to go to any length, it's going to be on our terms. And in that state, that awakening, whatever it was. And the amazing thing is it can be a terrible, wonderful day. It can feel horrible. And be the greatest day of your life. So much for if it feels good, it's good. If it feels bad, it's bad. And I went back to that treatment center. Thank God for that director. I saw him not too long ago. The last time I was in Denver, Dr. Larry. And he looked at me and he laughed. And he said, you're still sober. I said, yeah, I'm 20 years sober now. He said, you know, to this day, you still hold the record of any treatment center he was ever the director of for medical detox from alcohol. Alcohol by itself. I was in detox for 15 days. And they told me, you can't go to group because you'll either turn it into a game or you'll run the whole thing in a week. You can't talk to anybody from 8 in the morning until dinner. And the only one you can talk to is your therapist. And his name's Father Felix. And he's a monk in a monastery at night and a therapist in the field during the day. And he knows everything about God and nothing about therapy. And you know everything about therapy and nothing about God. And you'll be perfect. And we were. I was at a point where I could barely talk to one person. When I left there. And 45 days later, after 15 days of detox and 30 days of silence, talking to Father Felix, basically. That's all it was. They were going to have a graduation. And the room was full. And there was all these people. And they're going to give you a diploma and a chip and sign your book. My God, there's nothing funnier than going back or sad. There's nothing sadder or funnier than reading stuff that was written in your big book when you graduated from treatment. It's hysterical. And it's really sad. Because nine months later. They were all drunk. I didn't know one of them that was still sober. Except for Mark Houston. Who's still a friend to this day. God bless him. And they were going to give me a graduation. The director walked in the room. And he said, I'm sorry. We're not giving you a graduation. We don't think there's much hope for you. Because you don't do real well with drugs and alcohol. And you're not doing really well without them. See you. Come back any time you want. The genius of that. Because I left treatment for the first time. And all those treatments. And I said, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I left treatment centers with no hope. And by hope, I mean false hope. I left with how hope feels for an alcoholic. And I left feeling hopeless. But it was more hope than I ever had. Because there was no inclination of any kind that I could do anything to keep myself sober. And every other time I left treatment, I had a plan of what I was going to do to keep myself sober. I've recently made the mistake of working in the treatment field again. Maybe it wasn't a mistake. Because I learned the same lesson for the third time. I used to justify working in treatment because I have a degree and I've been a therapist. But I was never sharing what I learned in therapy from people. I was getting paid to share what you people gave me for free. And I tried it again this year with 20 years of sobriety. It worked for five months. And they let me go. And my heart would be broken in situations like this. In staff, they say, so and so has been to, he's from New York. He's been to treatment 23 times. He's finally starting to get the first step. He seems to be, he seems to have something he's never had in all these years. And today might be a good day to give him his relapse prevention plan. And then he would be confused because he finally saw there was nothing he could do. And they would start building up his ego, telling him what he could do. Or a young lady would come to me and say, I'm really confused with my inventory. And I would say, why? We just looked at it yesterday. It's totally clear. Four column. You've seen your part. With every resentment. She'd say, yeah. And I was felt really great yesterday. But today, my counselor gave me a pamper. I put on how to manage anger and I finally saw after all these treatment centers in all these years. I can't wish it away any more than alcohol and they break your heart. They break your heart because you can't tell the truth anymore. In the treatment field, it's either a state law that you can't tell the truth. The patients have rights now. Or it goes against what they're being taught. It's directly in conflict with our program. But maybe that's perfect too. that's perfect too and then they can come to us and we can say for nothing you know there's nothing you can do to keep yourself safe wow so i tried that again i tried that when i was new in my first year of sobriety i was made the director of a program for the national council on alcoholism working with kids training them to work with kids and a year earlier you wouldn't no one in this room would have wanted me around their kids and i'm a year sober in my first set of amends and i'm asked to work with kids miracle after miracle after miracle and i've been willing to submit myself to this process over and over i'm not a person that one through nine worked once i'm a person that took me twice to start the work to get through my first set of amends to just reach a day where i was human to just reach a day where i was current to just reach a day i had dreamed of my whole life where there wasn't one person that i had ever hurt that i hadn't gone to or done my best to see and make approaches you though some would be ongoing. I was five years in Denver, ten years in Los Angeles, got to watch a group like this grow up in Santa Monica and become an effective group that people come to to go through the steps. And then I was literally moved through an amazing experience to be in India the last five years in northern India. And I went there thinking it was to take a break, to study with one of the Dalai Lama's teachers. And I went there to start a drug and alcohol program for the Tibetan government for the first time in their history. For free. And it worked. And they now have detox and inpatient and outpatient. People that have been devastated. Their country is still overrun. They're still in the middle of genocide. They've lost family members. And a lot of these people I met there have love in their heart for the people that did that to their country. They didn't want to kill them right away. They didn't want to destroy them. They saw them as it is. They saw that there was a reason, and I've even heard some humble enough to admit that their actions in the past had something to do with what happened in the present. I've met people with great love. I've met people that have what I want that aren't just in the program. A lot of you in the program have what I want. And I go to someone, I did this year to Mark. I was working for him in Texas. And I started this process again. And my head tells me the set-aside prayer won't work. And there won't be much in one, two, and three because I'm pretty spiritually advanced. There won't be much of an inventory. And the prayer surprises me. And the first three steps do their thing. And there's an inventory I couldn't have told you would be there. I was free to share it. I was free to share it the other day with some people I was on retreat with. I don't have any area in my life because I come from a group in Santa Monica where they ask each other questions. And there's not an area of my life that's hidden now. And I get free. You know how those inventories feel when you're writing them? You want to lock them in a lockbox, in the car, in the garage. Nobody's going to see it. And a week later, when you've read it to one or two people or one person, you wouldn't care who heard any of it. And once again, I'm brought to that place. The process has once again surprised me. I've had some great times in the last couple weeks here in New York. And, you know, I just really want to thank you all for inviting me. Thanks. Thank you.
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