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The 12 Steps Of Alcoholics Anonymous
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Step Four: "Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of
ourselves." Creation gave us instincts for a purpose.
Without them we wouldn't be complete human beings. If men
and women didn't exert themselves to be secure in their
persons, made no effort to harvest food or construct
shelter, there would be no survival. If they didn't
reproduce, the earth wouldn't be populated. If there were no
social instinct, if men cared nothing for the society of one
another, there would be no society. So these desires--for
the sex relation, for material and emotional security, and
for companionship--are perfectly necessary and right, and
surely God-given. Yet these instincts, so necessary for our
existence, often far exceed their proper functions.
Powerfully, blindly, many times subtly, they drive us,
dominate us, and insist upon ruling our lives. Our desires
for sex, for material and emotional security, and for an
important place in society often tyrannize us. When thus out
of joint, man's natural desires cause him great trouble,
practically all the trouble there is. No human being,
however good, is exempt from these troubles. Nearly every
serious emotional problem can be seen as a case of
misdirected instinct. When that happens, our great natural
assets, the instincts, have turned into physical and mental
liabilities.
Step Four is our vigorous and painstaking effort to discover
what these liabilities in each of us have been, and are. We
want to find exactly how, when, and where our natural
desires have warped us. We wish to look squarely at the
unhappiness this has caused others and ourselves. By
discovering what our emotional deformities are, we can move
toward their correction. Without a willing and persistent
effort to do this, there can be little sobriety or
contentment for us. Without a searching and fearless moral
inventory, most of us have found that the faith which really
works in daily living is still out of reach.
Before tackling the inventory problem in detail, let's have
a closer look at what the basic problem is. Simple examples
like the following take on a world of meaning when we think
about them. Suppose a person places sex desire ahead of
everything else. In such a case, this imperious urge can
destroy his chances for material and emotional security as
well as his standing in the community.
Another may develop such an obsession for financial security
that he wants to do nothing but hoard money. Going to the
extreme, he can become a miser, or even a recluse who denies
himself both family and friends. Nor is the quest for
security always expressed in terms of money. How frequently
we see a frightened human being determined to depend
completely upon a stronger person for guidance and
protection. This weak one, failing to meet life's
responsibilities with his own resources, never grows up.
Disillusionment and helplessness are his lot. In time all
his protectors either flee or die, and he is once more left
alone and afraid.
We have also seen men and women who go power-mad, who devote
themselves to attempting to rule their fellows. These people
often throw to the winds every chance for legitimate
security and a happy family life. Whenever a human being
becomes a battleground for the instincts, there can be no
peace. But that is not all of the danger. Every time a
person imposes his instincts unreasonably upon others,
unhappiness follows. If the pursuit of wealth tramples upon
people who happen to be in the way, then anger, jealousy,
and revenge are likely to be aroused. If sex runs riot,
there is a similar uproar.
Demands made upon other people for too much attention,
protection, and love can only invite domination or revulsion
in the protectors themselves--two emotions quite as
unhealthy as the demands which evoked them. When an
individual's desire for prestige becomes uncontrollable,
whether in the sewing circle or at the international
conference table, other people suffer and often revolt. This
collision of instincts can produce anything from a cold snub
to a blazing revolution. In these ways we are set in
conflict not only with ourselves, but with other people who
have instincts, too.
Alcoholics especially should be able to see that instinct
run wild in themselves is the underlying cause of their
destructive drinking. We have drunk to drown feelings of
fear, frustration, and depression. We have drunk to escape
the guilt of passions, and then have drunk again to make
more passions possible. We have drunk for vain glory--that
we might the more enjoy foolish dreams of pomp and power.
This perverse soul-sickness is not pleasant to look upon.
Instincts on rampage balk at investigation. The minute we
make a serious attempt to probe them, we are liable to
suffer severe reactions.
If temperamentally we are on the depressive side, we are apt
to be swamped with guilt and self-loathing. We wallow in
this messy bog, often getting a misshapen and painful
pleasure out of it. As we morbidly pursue this melancholy
activity, we may sink to such a point of despair that
nothing but oblivion looks possible as a solution. Here, of
course, we have lost all perspective, and therefore all
genuine humility. For this is pride in reverse. This is not
a moral inventory at all; it is the very process by which
the depressive has so often been led to the bottle and
extinction.
If, however, our natural disposition is inclined to self
righteousness or grandiosity, our reaction will be just the
opposite. We will be offended at A.A.'s suggested inventory.
No doubt we shall point with pride to the good lives we
thought we led before the bottle cut us down. We shall claim
that our serious character defects, if we think we have any
at all, have been caused chiefly by excessive drinking. This
being so, we think it logically follows that sobriety--
first, last, and all the time--is the only thing we need to
work for. We believe that our one-time good characters will
be revived the moment we quit alcohol. If we were pretty
nice people all along, except for our drinking, what need is
there for a moral inventory now that we are sober? We also
clutch at another wonderful excuse for avoiding an
inventory. Our present anxieties and troubles, we cry, are
caused by the behavior of other people--people who really
need a moral inventory. We firmly believe that if only
they'd treat us better, we'd be all right. Therefore we
think our indignation is justified and reasonable--that our
resentments are the "right kind." We aren't the guilty ones.
They are! At this stage of the inventory proceedings, our
sponsors come to the rescue.
They can do this, for they are the carriers of A.A.'s tested
experience with Step Four. They comfort the melancholy one
by first showing him that his case is not strange or
different, that his character defects are probably not more
numerous or worse than those of anyone else in A.A. This the
sponsor promptly proves by talking freely and easily, and
without exhibitionism, about his own defects, past and
present. This calm, yet realistic, stocktaking is immensely
reassuring. The sponsor probably points out that the
newcomer has some assets which can be noted along with his
liabilities. This tends to clear away morbidity and
encourage balance.
As soon as he begins to be more objective, the newcomer can
fearlessly, rather than fearfully, look at his own defects.
The sponsors of those who feel they need no inventory are
confronted with quite another problem. This is because
people who are driven by pride of self unconsciously blind
themselves to their liabilities. These newcomers scarcely
need comforting. The problem is to help them discover a
chink in the walls their ego has built, through which the
light of reason can shine. First off, they can be told that
the majority of A.A. members have suffered severely from
self-justification during their drinking days. For most of
us, self-justification was the maker of excuses; excuses, of
course, for drinking, and for all kinds of crazy and
damaging conduct. We had made the invention of alibis a fine
art. We had to drink because times were hard or times were
good.
We had to drink because at home we were smothered with love
or got none at all. We had to drink because at work we were
great successes or dismal failures. We had to drink because
our nation had won a war or lost a peace. And so it went, ad
infinitum. We thought "conditions" drove us to drink, and
when we tried to correct these conditions and found that we
couldn't to our entire satisfaction, our drinking went out
of hand and we became alcoholics. It never occurred to us
that we needed to change ourselves to meet conditions,
whatever they were. But in A.A. we slowly learned that
something had to be done about our vengeful resentments,
self-pity, and unwarranted pride. We had to see that every
time we played the big shot, we turned people against us. We
had to see that when we harbored grudges and planned revenge
for such defeats, we were really beating ourselves with the
club of anger we had intended to use on others. We learned
that if we were seriously disturbed, our first need was to
quiet that disturbance, regardless of who or what we thought
caused it.
To see how erratic emotions victimized us often took a long
time. We could perceive them quickly in others, but only
slowly in ourselves. First of all, we had to admit that we
had many of these defects, even though such disclosures were
painful and humiliating. Where other people were concerned,
we had to drop the word "blame" from our speech and thought.
This required great willingness even to begin. But once over
the first two or three high hurdles, the course ahead began
to look easier. For we had started to get perspective on
ourselves, which is another way of saying that we were
gaining in humility.
Of course the depressive and the power-driver are
personality extremes, types with which A.A. and the whole
world abound. Often these personalities are just as sharply
defined as the examples given. But just as often some of us
will fit more or less into both classifications. Human
beings are never quite alike, so each of us, when making an
inventory, will need to determine what his individual
character defects are. Having found the shoes that fit, he
ought to step into them and walk with new confidence that he
is at last on the right track. Now let's ponder the need for
a list of the more glaring personality defects all of us
have in varying degrees. To those having religious training,
such a list would set forth serious violations of moral
principles. Some others will think of this list as defects
of character. Still others will call it an index of
maladjustments. Some will become quite annoyed if there is
talk about immorality, let alone sin. But all who are in the
least reasonable will agree upon one point: that there is
plenty wrong with us alcoholics about which plenty will have
to be done if we are to expect sobriety, progress, and any
real ability to cope with life.
To avoid falling into confusion over the names these defects
should be called, let's take a universally recognized list
of major human failings--the Seven Deadly Sins of pride,
greed, lust, anger, gluttony, envy, and sloth. It is not by
accident that pride heads the procession. For pride, leading
to self-justification, and always spurred by conscious or
unconscious fears, is the basic breeder of most human
difficulties, the chief block to true progress. Pride lures
us into making demands upon ourselves or upon others which
cannot be met without perverting or misusing our God-given
instincts. When the satisfaction of our instincts for sex,
security, and society becomes the sole object of our lives,
then pride steps in to justify our excesses. All these
failings generate fear, a soul-sickness in its own right.
Then fear, in turn, generates more character defects.
Unreasonable fear that our instincts will not be satisfied
drives us to covet the possessions of others, to lust for
sex and power, to become angry when our instinctive demands
are threatened, to be envious when the ambitions of others
seem to be realized while ours are not.
We eat, drink, and grab for more of everything than we need,
fearing we shall never have enough. And with genuine alarm
at the prospect of work, we stay lazy. We loaf and
procrastinate, or at best work grudgingly and under half
steam. These fears are the termites that ceaselessly devour
the foundations of whatever sort of life we try to build. So
when A.A. suggests a fearless moral inventory, it must seem
to every newcomer that more is being asked of him than he
can do. Both his pride and his fear beat him back every time
he tries to look within himself. Pride says, "You need not
pass this way," and Fear says, "You dare not look!" But the
testimony of A.A.'s who have really tried a moral inventory
is that pride and fear of this sort turn out to be bogeymen,
nothing else. Once we have a complete willingness to take
inventory, and exert ourselves to do the job thoroughly, a
wonderful light falls upon this foggy scene. As we persist,
a brand-new kind of confidence is born, and the sense of
relief at finally facing ourselves is indescribable. These
are the first fruits of Step Four.
By now the newcomer has probably arrived at the following
conclusions: that his character defects, representing
instincts gone astray, have been the primary cause of his
drinking and his failure at life; that unless he is now
willing to work hard at the elimination of the worst of
these defects, both sobriety and peace of mind will still
elude him; that all the faulty foundation of his life will
have to be torn out and built anew on bedrock. Now willing
to commence the search for his own defects, he will ask,
"Just how do I go about this? how do I take inventory of
myself?" Since Step Four is but the beginning of a lifetime
practice, it can be suggested that he first have a look at
those personal flaws which are acutely troublesome and
fairly obvious. Using his best judgment of what has been
right and what has been wrong, he might make a rough survey
of his conduct with respect to his primary instincts for
sex, security, and society. Looking back over his life, he
can readily get under way by consideration of questions such
as these: When, and how, and in just what instances did my
selfish pursuit of the sex relation damage other people and
me? What people were hurt, and how badly? Did I spoil my
marriage and injure my children? Did I jeopardize my
standing in the community? Just how did I react to these
situations at the time? Did I burn with a guilt that nothing
could extinguish? Or did I insist that I was the pursued and
not the pursuer, and thus absolve myself? How have I reacted
to frustration in sexual matters? When denied, did I become
vengeful or depressed? Did I take it out on other people? If
there was rejection or coldness at home, did I use this as a
reason for promiscuity?
Also of importance for most alcoholics are the questions
they must ask about their behavior respecting financial and
emotional security. In these areas fear, greed,
possessiveness, and pride have too often done their worst.
Surveying his business or employment record, almost any
alcoholic can ask questions like these: In addition to my
drinking problem, what character defects contributed to my
financial instability? Did fear and inferiority about my
fitness for my job destroy my confidence and fill me with
conflict? Did I try to cover up those feelings of inadequacy
by bluffing, cheating, lying, or evading responsibility? Or
by griping that others failed to recognize my truly
exceptional abilities? Did I overvalue myself and play the
big shot? Did I have such unprincipled ambition that I
double-crossed and undercut my associates? Was I
extravagant? Did I recklessly borrow money, caring little
whether it was repaid or not? Was I a pinch penny, refusing
to support my family properly? Did I cut corners
financially? What about the "quick money" deals, the stock
market, and the races?
Businesswomen in A.A. will naturally find that many of these
questions apply to them, too. But the alcoholic housewife
can also make the family financially insecure. She can
juggle charge accounts, manipulate the food budget, spend
her afternoons gambling, and run her husband into debt by
irresponsibility, waste, and extravagance. But all
alcoholics who have drunk themselves out of jobs, family,
and friends will need to cross-examine themselves ruthlessly
to determine how their own personality defects have thus
demolished their security. The most common symptoms of
emotional insecurity are worry, anger, self-pity, and
depression. These stem from causes which sometimes seem to
be within us, and at other times to come from without.
To take inventory in this respect we ought to consider
carefully all personal relationships which bring continuous
or recurring trouble. It should be remembered that this kind
of insecurity may arise in any area where instincts are
threatened. Questioning directed to this end might run like
this: Looking at both past and present, what sex situations
have caused me anxiety, bitterness, frustration, or
depression? Appraising each situation fairly, can I see
where I have been at fault? Did these perplexities beset me
because of selfishness or unreasonable demands? Or, if my
disturbance was seemingly caused by the behavior of others,
why do I lack the ability to accept conditions I cannot
change? These are the sort of fundamental inquiries that can
disclose the source of my discomfort and indicate whether I
may be able to alter my own conduct and so adjust myself
serenely to self-discipline.
Suppose that financial insecurity constantly arouses these
same feelings. I can ask myself to what extent have my own
mistakes fed my gnawing anxieties. And if the actions of
others are part of the cause, what can I do about that?
If I am unable to change the present state of affairs, am I
willing to take the measures necessary to shape my life to
conditions as they are? Questions like these, more of which
will come to mind easily in each individual case, will help
turn up the root causes. But it is from our twisted
relations with family, friends, and society at large that
many of us have suffered the most. We have been especially
stupid and stubborn about them. The primary fact that we
fail to recognize is our total inability to form a true
partnership with another human being. Our egomania digs two
disastrous pitfalls. Either we insist upon dominating the
people we know, or we depend upon them far too much.
If we lean too heavily on people, they will sooner or later
fail us, for they are human, too, and cannot possibly meet
our incessant demands. In this way our insecurity grows and
festers. When we habitually try to manipulate others to our
own willful desires, they revolt, and resist us heavily.
Then we develop hurt feelings, a sense of persecution, and a
desire to retaliate. As we redouble our efforts at control,
and continue to fail, our suffering becomes acute and
constant. We have not once sought to be one in a family, to
be a friend among friends, to be a worker among workers, to
be a useful member of society. Always we tried to struggle
to the top of the heap, or to hide underneath it. This
self-centered behavior blocked a partnership relation with
any one of those about us. Of true brotherhood we had small
comprehension.
Some will object to many of the questions posed, because
they think their own character defects have not been so
glaring. To these it can be suggested that a conscientious
examination is likely to reveal the very defects the
objectionable questions are concerned with. Because our
surface record hasn't looked too bad, we have frequently
been abashed to find that this is so simply because we have
buried these self same defects deep down in us under thick
layers of self-justification. Whatever the defects, they
have finally ambushed us into alcoholism and misery.
Therefore, thoroughness ought to be the watchword when
taking inventory. In this connection, it is wise to write
out our questions and answers. It will be an aid to clear
thinking and honest appraisal. It will be the first tangible
evidence of our complete willingness to move forward.
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