By Dirk Johnson, Recovered Alcoholic
What Is a Sponsor?
Learning to See Beyond Myself
After 22 years of sobriety, Alcoholics Anonymous has given me a life far better than anything I could have imagined for myself. More importantly, it has given me a relationship with my Creator that exceeds anything I could have conceived before coming into the program.
And at the heart of that experience has been sponsorship.
My sponsor is the person I run things by before they leave my mouth or my hand. He's often the first to hear an amends I intend to make, a difficult conversation I'm preparing to have, or an idea I'm convinced is brilliant.
And thank God for that.
Often, simply hearing the words come out of my mouth reveals the flaws in my thinking. Other times, he gently helps me see what I cannot see for myself. He knows me well enough to recognize when my motives aren't quite what I believe they are, and he helps me see that without judgment.
That's one of the greatest gifts of sponsorship: discovering that profound personal change can come through kindness, patience, and love.
A Lesson in Chess
When I first came into AA, my original sponsor asked me two questions.
"Do you believe in God?"
"Do you play chess?"
I answered yes to both.
So we began playing chess and talking about AA.
He beat me. Then he beat me again. And again.
I was furious.
I downloaded a chess app and began practicing, convinced I was simply out of practice. But he kept beating me.
We would be having a great game, and then I'd make one bad move. Suddenly, the game was unwinnable. I'd sit there seething, my hands trembling as I moved the pieces.
If only I could have that one move back!
I was convinced that if I could just do it over, the game would continue and everything would work out beautifully. I'd win, we'd both have a great time, and everyone would be happy.
Of course, that's not how chess works.
And that's not how life works either.
Meanwhile, we continued working the Twelve Steps.
Eventually, I beat him. Then I beat him again. Before long, we were playing evenly, and I was winning more often than I lost.
Here's the remarkable part: My chess skills hadn't fundamentally improved. What changed was my ability to see the other person.
Before AA, I was so consumed with what I wanted that I paid almost no attention to what anyone else was doing. I was focused entirely on my next move, my strategy, my desired outcome.
As I worked the Steps, I began paying attention to the person sitting across from me. I could anticipate his moves because I was finally interested in what he was trying to accomplish, rather than exclusively focused on myself.
The Big Book says on page 62,
“Selfishness and self-centeredness are the root of our troubles.”
I had read those words, but through sponsorship, I began to experience what they meant.
My problem wasn't simply that I drank too much. I was trying to arrange the world, the people in it, and every outcome to suit myself.
My sponsor was helping me learn an entirely different way to live.
And I didn't recognize that transformation until years later.
Sometimes Quickly, Sometimes Slowly
I remember walking through Chicago O'Hare Airport and passing a bar I used to frequent when traveling.
When I was drinking, I'd stop there and drink until the very last possible moment before boarding my flight.
But that day, I stopped and looked at that bar. I realized I had absolutely no desire to go inside.
Then something extraordinary occurred to me.
I tried to remember the last time I'd wanted a drink.
And I couldn't.
Somewhere along the way, the desire had left me. I hadn't noticed it happening. I couldn't tell you when it disappeared.
It was just gone.
The Ninth Step Promises tell us that we will realize God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves. They remind us that these promises materialize as we work for them, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.
I think about that experience and those chess games. In both cases, a transformation had taken place without my realizing it.
I didn't accomplish those changes through willpower. I became willing to follow the directions, work the Steps with my sponsor, and trust God with the results.
Honesty Is the Foundation
Of all the principles I've learned in AA, I believe honesty is the most vital.
The First Step required me to honestly admit, deep within myself, that I was powerless over alcohol and that my life had become unmanageable.
But that was only the beginning.
I had to bring that same honesty into every aspect of my life. Even the little things. Especially the little things.
I remember doing my Fifth Step with my original sponsor, who passed away ten years into my sobriety.
There were things about myself I desperately didn't want to admit to another human being. I remember crying as I shared them.
It was intensely emotional. But afterward, I felt lighter than I had ever felt.
There was extraordinary freedom in being completely honest with another person and discovering that I could be accepted just as I was.
Today, when I take another alcoholic through the Steps, I remember that experience.
When someone shares their Fifth Step, I'm not there to judge their story. That's theirs to tell, and it's their responsibility to be thorough. I'm listening for the defects of character that emerge.
Afterward, I typically give them a list of the defects I've noticed and ask them to sit with their Higher Power and review it. Is anything missing? Is something on the list that doesn't belong?
That's how I help them approach Step Six.
In Step Seven, they humbly ask God to remove the shortcomings that stand in the way of their usefulness to Him and others.
I want every person I sponsor to experience the same freedom I felt after my Fifth Step.
And that freedom begins with honesty.
I've also learned that honesty can be difficult in the other direction. Sometimes I've confused compassion with avoiding an uncomfortable truth. I've wanted to protect someone's feelings or preserve something good, and I've let that desire interfere with my responsibility to be honest.
Those experiences have taught me that being a good sponsor doesn't mean telling someone what they want to hear.
Sometimes the most loving thing we can do is tell the truth, even when it's uncomfortable.
We can do that gently, without judgment, and without trying to control what happens afterward.
Doing the Next Right Thing
One of the most liberating lessons I've learned in recovery is that I am not responsible for controlling outcomes. I am responsible for my actions.
For much of my life, I believed that if I could manage the circumstances and anticipate everyone's reactions, I could make everything turn out the way I wanted.
That was a significant part of the unmanageability of my life.
Today, I try to live by a much simpler principle:
Do the next right thing, and trust God with the outcome.
Sometimes things I initially believe are terrible turn out to be blessings. Other times, things I thought were wonderful turn out very differently than I expected.
I don't have the perspective to know.
My sponsor helps me remember that my responsibility is to practice the program's principles, not engineer the results.
And when I forget, he helps me find my way back.
The Gift of Sponsorship
Sponsorship isn't a one-way relationship. I've learned as much from sponsoring others as I hope I've been able to share.
It continually brings me back to the principles that saved my life, challenges me to practice what I suggest to others, and reminds me that I'm not exempt from the same defects of character that brought me into the program.
After 22 years of sobriety, I still occasionally make moves I wish I could take back.
But today, I can recognize them, take responsibility, make amends when necessary, and move forward.
And I don't have to do it alone.
When I think about sponsorship, I remember those chess games and how desperately I wanted to win. I remember standing outside that airport bar, unable to recall the last time I'd wanted a drink. And I remember sitting across from my sponsor, in tears, finding the freedom that comes from complete honesty.
My sponsor didn't just help me stop drinking.
He helped me learn how to live.
Today, I have a relationship with God, with others, and with myself that I never could have imagined when I walked into Alcoholics Anonymous.
And so much of that has come through the extraordinary gift of one alcoholic helping another.
That's what a sponsor is to me.
