Willing to Let Go: Growing Through Steps 6 & 7
By Lance Travis, Recovered Alcoholic
Steps 6 and 7 simply suggest that we be ready to have God change us for the better and ask Him to do it. Easy, right? So easy that entire chapters are written about most of the other steps, but our textbook devotes only a few sentences to steps 6 and 7. If we aren’t careful, the short and simple presentation of these steps can lead to them being minimized, or even worse, entirely overlooked.
My experience with steps 6 and 7 has changed quite a bit over my years of recovery. In the beginning, a week or two after being separated from the liquid, when I was starting to come to my senses and see a little freedom in the distance, none of the first seven steps were a tough ask. I was so close to the edge of a premature alcoholic death over and over in the preceding years that I had no problem admitting that I was totally beaten into submission and out of plans. That desperation seemed to carry me through the initial concepts that a higher power could be the answer, and my decision to try a different way of life.
By that point, my chief defects of character were also glaring. I wasn’t a “dance on the top of the bar” kind of drunk. I was a “secret drunk,” alone in the corner of my garage, hiding from the big, bad world that had wronged me so often. Equally terrified that I would be found out or that I wouldn’t live through my next bender, bringing what I imagined would be unbearable shame and judgment on my family. A drunk like that is forced to become an expert in dishonesty and deception, and I did. It was exhausting, and after decades, it had unfortunately become a significant part of my core nature. Part of the cover-up also involved presenting myself in public as the cocky know-it-all who had his act together. That’s how I would keep everyone fooled. It seemed like a good plan until it wasn’t.
When my sponsor and I discussed my fourth step inventory, it was crystal clear that these long-held traits had to go. I honestly found them horribly objectionable. I could see for the first time that I was created to be in meaningful relationships with others, and even my broken brain sensed those relationships would be impossible without a drastic change. I also saw for the first time that my problem was never the booze. My problem was myself and my warped view of my place in the world. I actually started to dream of a life without this trash weighing me down, and with all the humility I could muster, I completed step 7 by begging God to remove it so I could be useful to others.
It worked. Seemingly overnight, as I moved on to step 9 amends, adopted a new daily practice of prayer and meditation, and threw myself headlong into trying to help others recover, I felt transformed. My family, some of my old friends, and a host of new friends seemed to genuinely want to be around me and value me for who I am. I was 51 years old and had never experienced this level of affection in my entire adult life. My dreams were coming true.
It wouldn’t last forever. Despite multiple mentors in the program of Alcoholics Anonymous telling me otherwise, I fell into the thinking that I was basically done with the heavy lifting and good to go. All was actually good for a while. Then came year three. Out of nowhere, I started to get sick. And really confused. I actively participated in multiple solution-based meetings every week. My prayer and meditation were on point. I tried to help every alcoholic man and family member who asked out of a legitimately pure motive. I’m no longer lying to anyone about anything, and most of the time, that annoying cockiness seems to be largely in check. The super stinky, gross stuff is gone. Yet my key relationships are all of a sudden in trouble again. I am neither happy, joyous, nor free. Worse yet, people around me are starting to point it out and get concerned. What am I missing? Why am I getting sicker years in? I want to blame it on anything other than me.
I’m still seeking, and I could be wrong, but I’m exploring the idea that this sickness is rooted in a lack of diligence with steps 6 and 7. I sometimes don’t want to face the fact that identifying objectionable parts of my character is a lifelong exercise. These steps are not a “one and done” proposition. Instead, we are aiming for patient improvement.
As I sought God’s will for this troubling season that I never saw coming, some shocking things were revealed. Greedy entitlement had started masquerading as healthy ambition. Jealous comparisons with others were being rationalized in my mind as mere striving for self-improvement. Pointless insecurities were showing themselves in public, embarrassing me and others. Any objective outsider would tell you that my life was continuing to improve. From the outside, they would be right, but inside was a completely different story. My previous gratitude and hope seemed to have been stolen, but was I willing to trade serenity for a seat at the top of the mountain the world seemed to think was important? This question proved much more difficult to answer than expected.
Thankfully, the pain finally became unbearable, and bits of truth started to be revealed. Without any substance to numb it, that pain also didn’t take nearly as long to get my attention. But steps 6 and 7 ask us to go well beyond identifying the defects and experiencing the pain. We need to see these thoughts and habits as harmful and want them to be gone. For months, I struggled and swam against the current. I resorted to the same brand of rationalization and justification that I relied on to deceive myself about how I would get over drinking on my own power. Of course, that was silly, and we wouldn’t go back there. But how I fought with myself over whether obvious greed was ok. Whether my judgment of others as inferior was true and acceptable. Whether I truly believed I was worthy of a happy life or destined to be that same old fraud. And the most frustrating dilemma – whether I could will myself out of this funk.
With the help of God and our community (including sponsees with less than a month of sobriety!), I was finally able to see this trash for what it really was. I was totally ready for it to go to the dump and never come back. But I still wasn’t out of the woods. Now I needed to find the humility to ask God for help, and I hit another roadblock. The crazy thought appeared, “I’m not sure He can fix this stuff.” He immediately removed a 30-plus-year obsession with alcohol like it never existed, but for some strange reason, this set of character defects seemed like a taller order.
The end of this season’s story hasn’t been written yet. It’s a work in progress. And hopefully that’s ok. I’m comforted by the words of the founder of the program, who understood and anticipated these difficulties. When we encounter them, he encourages us to take a deeper look at our basic objectives. We long for a peaceful, purposeful life. We want to place our total dependence on God. We recognize that our self-centered clutter frustrates our purpose. With these ideals firmly in mind, the humility needed to seek the removal of these shortcomings must be just around the corner. With persistence and prayer, we will surely find what we are looking for.
Alcoholics Anonymous: The story of how many thousands of men and women have recovered from alcoholism. (4th ed.). (2001). Alcoholics Anonymous World Services.
