question-and-answer, nail-and-hammer, inside-and-outside. It is never narrow or sectarian. It is not blind, because its own radiance banishes obscurity.
Truth is multifaceted, because it is reality. Your truth and mine are different, because we are different. Your beliefs are your truth, as mine are mine. When that is accepted, any cause for conflict between us is resolved. Neither of us is right or wrong. We simply hold different pieces of the incredible jigsaw puzzle of life, and each piece has its place.
Truth is immediate. What was true yesterday is no longer true today, and tomorrow is not born yet. Today—now—is truth. What is happening all over the world at this moment is truth, and no part is “truer” than any other part. We are all equal shareholders in reality. For an individual or group to believe he or it has captured the whole of truth is absurd.
When truth is so beautiful, why do we embrace the lie? As a practicing alcoholic, I escaped into non-truth because I felt ill equipped to cope with reality. And yet the “reality” I perceived was a lie, too. I was escaping from one lie to another, seemingly more pleasant. Because I felt, sober, that I was unlovable, ugly, awkward, and flawed, surrounded by hostile strangers who were devoting their entire attention to spotting my inadequacies, I got drunk. Then, for a while, I felt confident and safe enough from others to enjoy them and myself. Is it any wonder that I fought against returning to the ugly “reality” that sobriety seemed to offer?
When I finally accepted the fact that I couldn’t drink, that the solace and fun I had found in alcohol were no longer there for me, I turned to AA to show me how to live in that hostile, terrifying, sober world I had deserted many years before. Having found the first truth, I now had to find others: that people were not hostile; that they were not looking for my flaws, but were much more concerned with their own; that, though reality presented many challenges, it had also provided me with the means to deal with them; and that the rewards of dealing with them were multi-fold—self-respect, a sense of accomplishment, ability to accept responsibility, tolerance, and, most of all, a feeling of being in step with my world. I had begun to grow up. I had found more truth.
Now I search for truth—for the reality I can deal with, rather than the nightmare I cannot. If a snake is coiled in my living room, I want him out where I can see him—not hiding in the shadows, waiting, while I reach for another drink and pretend he isn’t there.
What we really fear is not truth, but the lie, as I did when “reality,” as I mistakenly viewed it , chased me into alcoholism. I have found that it is not wise to accept everything at face value—it is often lazy or stupid.
The concept that a little truth goes a long way, that truth hurts, never ceases to surprise me, since I have found that truth protects. Suppose a “friend” comes up to you at a party and asks, “Why did you ever buy that dress? It’s a horrible color for you.” Is that the truth? It may or may not be. Only other opinions will help determine that, and you can get them from people whose opinions you respect. If everyone agrees with the “friend,” you have been spared looking unattractive—get the darned thing dyed, and look pretty! If no one agrees with her, don’t stop there—recognize that your “friend” may be spiteful, cruel, or jealous, and if she is, you are better off without her.
If someone at the office brings you a rumor that a cutback is impending and you will be the first to go, don’t just stand there getting ulcers—find out the truth while there is still time to seek another job. Don’t agonize over truth or turn your back on it—use it!
When it comes to telling others the truth, I have a few simple rules. First, I ask myself whether telling it is necessary and whether it will help. Truth is not a bludgeon to be used indiscriminately. If the truth is unwanted, speaking out is often premature. When I am asked for an opinion or advice, I give it to the best of my ability with as much gentleness, understanding, and tolerance as I can scrape up. I do not misuse the request by unloading a backlog of resentment and criticism, and I never, never use the confidence as ammunition against the person in the future, in talking either with him or to others about him. I have been honored with a confidence, and I must treat it as the precious thing it is.
On the rare occasions when I feel I must offer unsolicited advice, I try to remember that I am paying a compliment. I am saying, in effect, “You have a serious problem that must be dealt with, and I am taking the liberty of pointing it out to you because I am sure you have the wisdom and ability to deal with it. I have confidence in you.” Truth presented in this way is reinforcing and seldom resented for long. Honesty in dealing kindly with oneself and others does not backfire.
In one way only is truth an absolute: Without it, there can be no growth. Truth is to inner space what sunshine is to a garden. In its absence, fear flourishes and imagination runs riot, conjuring up pursuing monsters where there are only paper dragons. I wonder why it takes so long to realize that nightmares can never be outdistanced, simply because they do not exist. Unreality cannot be coped with precisely because it is unreal. Only when we open our minds and hearts to the truth can we expose our paper dragons for what they are—a child’s forgotten toys.
Truth liberates. Truth heals. Truth unlocks the door to the glory of reality, and gives us the means to live in harmony with reality. In return, it asks only that we surrender all lies and illusions and love what is. Why do we wait so long?
J.W., Key West, Fla.
Action and More Action
January 1978
The one thing that pops into my mind most often when I think of the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous is the incredible number of times it mentions giving this program away to keep it.
This month, I am celebrating my sixth AA birthday, and I’ve made a decision to pick up the Big Book daily and read something to strengthen my sobriety. The treasures that I’m finding are very rewarding.
I like the way Bill and Dr. Bob, co-founders of AA, carried the message to the third member. On page 186, they say, “We have a program whereby we think we can stay sober. Part of that program is that we take it to someone else, that needs it and wants it.” This cleared up a misconception that I’ve heard at several AA meetings: “AA is for those that want it, not for those that need it.’’ In fact, I was guilty of saying that a number of times until I read Dr. Bob’s story. He says on page 180, “I spend a great deal of time passing on what I learned to others who want and need it badly.’’
Twelfth-stepping has always been one of AA’s attractions to me. When I bought the Big Book, my first week in AA, I remember turning to the chapter “Working With Others,” reading and rereading it, and dreaming that some day I might be able to help someone with an alcoholic problem. I am aware that not too many members care to go out on Twelfth Step calls. One of the reasons I hear is “I gave up after a few tries. I guess they weren’t ready yet.” What if Bill and Dr. Bob had given up? Where would we be now? The chapter “A Vision for You” tells how the early AAs experienced a few distressing failures, but knew they must help other alcoholics if they wanted to remain sober.
I’m so grateful to know that God has chosen me to help carry the message to alcoholics. When I was drinking, I was in a wreck that totaled my car. The damage was so bad that my right front wheel wound up next to me in the front seat. There was no room in the car for anyone else to survive, yet my life was spared. I am another miracle among many in this beautiful Fellowship of miracles.
I keep involved in the AA program, trying to give back a little of what I have received so freely. Whenever I go to a meeting, I like to arrive early and stay late. I like the face-to-face sharing before and after the meetings. That way, I get to meet the new members and give them a warm welcome, a handshake, and a smile.
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