role in the community, but on the flipside, each is only a little piece of the greater puzzle (which I still find puzzling but have come to believe in).
And so, at least to my reckoning, it seems that the dynamic process that unifies and perpetuates the unique habitats I help preserve is the same process at work in Alcoholics Anonymous: unity, service and recovery, each individual making a distinctive contribution to the whole.
This ecological paradox is beautifully expressed in the chapter about Tradition One in the “Twelve and Twelve”: “Those who look closely soon have the key to this strange paradox. The AA member has to conform to the principles of recovery. His life actually depends upon obedience to spiritual principles. If he deviates too far, the penalty is sure and swift; he sickens and dies … . Realization dawns that he is but a small part of the greater whole.”
It appears to me that there is definitely something at work, something that offers individuals lavish liberty to be themselves (even to destruction) yet acts like a glue that bonds us together as a community or fellowship. The “Twelve and Twelve” defines this glue as “an irresistible strength of purpose and action.” For each animal and plant, each alcoholic, there is a common bond: to stay alive, which for an alcoholic like me translates into staying sober with the help of AA and then passing on this legacy of unity and recovery. What is required from me is self-sacrifice to insure the common welfare. It’s like a complete unbroken circle.
I am just now beginning to understand how I relate to the Fellowship of AA. What I’ve been taught working on nature preserves has shed some light on this “common welfare” mentioned in Tradition One. My individual liberty to act, think, talk or balk, as well as my sobriety, relies solely on my willingness and my complete surrender to the spiritual principles spelled out and conveniently numbered in the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions.
My sponsor told me early on that the AA program was a program of relationships. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about at the time. Now I think I’m finally catching on. It all began with striking up a relationship with a power greater than me. By Step Five I found myself stepping into a meaningful relationship with another human being. Now along comes the First Tradition, which spells out for me how to form a relationship with a community: that “crowd of anarchists,” as the “Twelve and Twelve” so aptly defines us in the chapter on Tradition One.
I’ve witnessed this “strength of purpose and action” out on the nature preserves where I volunteer and am now witnessing it again here in the Fellowship of AA. Individual diversity is obviously not a weakness but a strength—a strength of purpose and action.
Just like the Twelve Steps, the Twelve Traditions are a pathway of spiritual progress. Being a chronic isolator at heart (I seem to have been born that way) I first went along with this unity/group deal because I was desperate and willing to try anything. As my sobriety lengthened from hours to days to months, I found out that this Tradition One ecology seemed to help keep me sober as it did others in my group. As time progressed I began to get a glimmer of the miraculous promises available to me by putting common welfare first. Instead of feeling diminished by being only a small part, I began to feel like I’d found a home, a place where I belonged after a lifetime of isolation and being fatally unique. Now I see that the spiritual principle of putting common welfare first is my proper relationship to the big picture—the whole deal—which in turn keeps me whole.
As I’ve witnessed out on the preserves and here in AA, when an individual flourishes and grows it greatly benefits the whole community that it is a small yet distinctive part of. And this is only possible if the community itself flourishes and grows. This same economy at work in nature is hard at work in the AA Fellowship. I’m not surprised. It seems to be how it works.
Ed C.
Bowling Green, Kentucky
For the Good of the Group
January 2015
The other day someone at our home group had to be interrupted by one of the long-timers in the room. What could cause an interruption like this, you ask?
Our group conscience says that the needs of the group come before the individual … in line with our First Tradition. The limited time we have available is for carrying the message, not for providing a forum for someone to carry out a rant about how their life is all messed up. We try to be as tolerant as we can, but sometimes the meeting needs to get back on track. Where did I learn this?
Some 25 years ago, when I was a newcomer, my life was a complete mess. I was in a treatment center and learned to express my feelings in the group. However, the folks in AA were not so sure that was the answer. A couple of times people in meetings with a lot more time than me explained that it was in the best interest of the group that the members practiced the principles. My sponsor explained that it was best for me to call him with my problems and not to use up the group’s time to vent all my feelings. He told me that it was OK to share about a problem no more than three times at a meeting. And I needed to try and share what kind of a solution I was going to be applying to the problem. He wanted me to get away from wallowing in my problem with its accompanying self-pity. Sometimes he would just ask, “What Step are you on?”
It does take some courage to interrupt someone when they wander off track, but in the long run it’s best for the group. In my case, it was best for me in the long run, too.
There are times, however, when interruptions in meetings are not necessarily for the good of AA. All too often I see a meeting interrupted with shouts of “Who are you?” when someone sharing inadvertently forgets to properly identify themselves. To me, this shows a lack of compassion and patience. Interruptions should be few and far between, such as when someone is disrupting the group. It’s actually best to talk to someone after the meeting, so that they are not made to feel less than.
If you’re ever in the Roseburg, Oregon area please stop in for a visit to my home group, the Brown Bag Group. It meets Monday through Friday at noon. You’ll be made to feel welcome and will probably be asked to share. Newcomers are always welcome.
Ken T.
Tenmile, Oregon
Unity Disrupted
January 1998
I will never forget the first time I really understood the meaning of Tradition One and how important our common welfare was to me personally. I was sitting in my home group meeting one morning a little after 7 A.M., not quite awake but aware that I was safe and among friends. These were the people who’d been there for me as I learned how to stay sober and live a life of love and service. Through the sharing of their own experience, I’ve learned the spiritual principles of the Steps and Traditions.
My home group is a large group that meets six days a week, has a lot of long-term sobriety and a very strong service structure. The monthly home group meetings (what we call business meetings) are often focused on what we can do to better carry the AA message to the newcomer. We celebrate birthdays by giving away AA literature and Grapevine. The minority is respected and encouraged to speak. As a result of this concerted effort to examine ourselves, our group continued to grow and prosper and attract newcomers.
That morning, a fellow (a new face) stood and began to hold forth, to preach really, about the Bible. Suddenly, I was no longer in a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous but in a revival meeting. I was extremely uncomfortable and fearful. I wanted to say something, to interrupt him, but either I couldn’t figure out a way to do it so as not to embarrass him or myself or I didn’t have the courage. So I sat there looking at my feet, feeling miserable and hoping
