If you are asking this question, you may have come to realize that there has to be something more to sobriety than just getting sober.
Step Two in the book Alcoholics Anonymous says we “came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”
I often wondered, What if I wasn’t sane to begin with? What am I being restored to?
That eventually led me to a different question:
Who am I?
I didn’t have to search any farther than pages 61–64 of the same book, where Bill W. describes a system of thought we commonly call self.
So what is self?
Self is not some separate entity living inside of me. I am self. It is my natural system of thought, and yours as well. It is the way we understand ourselves, other people, and circumstances—what we want, what we don’t want, what we think should happen, and what we believe we need to do about it.
But what if this isn’t unique to alcoholics?
What if self is everyone’s natural system of thought?
That system of thought did not begin when you or I started drinking, and it did not disappear when we stopped. It may have been one of the reasons we drank to begin with: something we couldn’t identify but wanted to get away from.
This may be why you got sober and still find yourself asking:
Why don’t I feel better?
The Actor Who Wants to Run the Show
On pages 61–64, the Big Book uses the example of an actor who wants to run the entire show.
He has an idea of how the production should go. He wants the other actors to behave properly. He wants the scenery arranged correctly. He wants everyone to do what he believes they should do so the production will turn out the way he thinks it should.
His intentions do not necessarily have to be bad.
He may be kind, considerate, patient, generous, even self-sacrificing.
But there is still a problem.
He is directing the show.
When people and circumstances don’t cooperate with his direction, he becomes frustrated, angry, indignant, self-pitying, or depressed.
The Big Book eventually describes the alcoholic as an “extreme example of self-will run riot.”
Notice the word extreme.
What if the alcoholic is not being described as having an entirely different system of thought from everyone else?
What if alcoholism is an extreme example of what happens when the system we call self is allowed to direct our lives with reduced judgment?
If so, stopping drinking does not remove the Director.
It removes the alcohol and allows normal judgment to return.
And that leaves us with another question.
What Do We Do About Self?
The answer on pages 61–64 is not that self needs to become a better director. It is that there needs to be a different Director.
The Big Book puts it plainly:
“We had to stop playing God.”
Then it says:
“God was going to be our Director.”
That is a fundamental change.
Self says, I know what should happen.
Self says, I know what I need.
Self says, I know what this person should do.
Self says, I know how this should turn out.
But I don’t actually know any of those things.
I can use experience, information, wisdom, and good judgment. I can make responsible decisions. I can make reasonable predictions about what may happen.
But I do not know what will happen. And many times, that is the very problem self is trying to solve—or claiming it already has the answer to.
God does know.
And He knows the next moment.
And the next.
And the next.
So perhaps the question is no longer:
How do I arrange my life so I know I will be okay?
Maybe it becomes:
Can I be okay in this moment, trusting God or my Higher Power even though I don’t know what the outcome will be?
That doesn’t mean I stop making decisions or taking responsibility for my life. It means I stop believing that I must control the outcome in order to be okay.
Wanting Something Is Not the Problem
There is nothing inherently wrong with wanting something.
I can want a good marriage. I can want my children to do well. I can want financial security. I can want better health. I can want someone to understand me.
I can certainly want to be happy.
The difficulty begins when a want becomes an expectation.
I want my wife to understand me becomes:
She should understand me.
Then:
If she loved me, she would understand me.
Eventually:
I cannot be okay until she does understand me.
The original want may have been perfectly reasonable. But now I have decided what another person needs to do before I can be okay.
Is this not self directing the show again?
And when reality does not cooperate, I become disturbed yet again.
Acceptance and the Reality of This Moment
Much later in the Big Book, the personal story Acceptance Was the Answer on page 417 describes this problem from another direction.
The writer says:
“And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today.”
He explains that whenever he is disturbed, there is some person, place, thing, situation, or fact of his life that he finds unacceptable. He cannot find serenity until he accepts that person, place, thing, situation, or fact as being the way it is in that moment.
That does not mean everything that happens is good.
It does not mean we accept abuse, remain in dangerous situations, ignore illness, refuse help, or stop trying to improve our circumstances.
It means something much simpler:
This is what is true right now.
I may want it to be different.
I may take appropriate action to change it.
But before I can respond appropriately, I have to begin with what actually is—not what self insists it should be.
That is acceptance.
And now we can begin to see why someone can stop drinking and still be restless, irritable, discontented, or unhappy.
Alcohol is gone.
But self may still be trying to direct the show.
Practice These Principles in All Our Affairs
This is where one of the most familiar instructions in AA becomes much more important:
“practice these principles in all our affairs.”
It is easy to hear that as simply an instruction to be a better person. But what if it is also how we begin living with a different Director?
Self says, I need them to behave differently before I can be okay.
The principle says, No, you don’t. You can practice acceptance.
Self says, I have to make this outcome happen.
The principle says, No. I can practice trust in my Higher Power.
Self says, Look at what they did to me.
The principle says, I can forgive as I have been forgiven.
Self says, I need to protect myself from what I did.
The principle says, No. I can practice honesty in this situation instead.
Self says, I need what I want now.
The principle says, No. Practice patience and see where this is going first.
Notice what hasn’t necessarily changed.
The other person may still be behaving exactly the same way.
The outcome has not been guaranteed, and what happened to me has not been undone.
My mistake has not disappeared, and I still don’t have what I want.
What changed was how I chose to respond to what is going on.
This is what it means to have a different Director—someone or something other than self, with an understanding and direction greater than its own.
Self is no longer being asked to solve the problem it created by trying to direct the show. Instead, I look outside of self for the principle that applies to the situation and practice it.
The principles give me something other than self to follow.
I don’t have to wait until I feel accepting before practicing acceptance.
I don’t have to know the outcome before practicing trust.
I don’t have to stop feeling hurt before practicing forgiveness.
I don’t have to know what honesty will cost me before telling the truth.
I practice the principle instead of automatically following self.
As I continue doing this, self can have less influence over how I think, act, and feel in the moment, while God or my Higher Power gains more.
Why the Moment Matters
Self has difficulty remaining in the present moment.
It wants to answer two questions:
How did I get here?
and
How do I influence where I go next?
Both questions have legitimate uses. We should learn from our past, and we should make plans for our future. But we cannot live in either one.
Self can take the past and turn it into resentment, guilt, regret, or shame.
Then it can take the future and turn it into fear, worry, expectations, or an attempt to control an outcome that has not happened.
Meanwhile, the present moment passes unnoticed.
People frequently ask:
Where is God?
Perhaps there is another question worth asking:
Where are you?
We have evidence of God working in the past and assurances that He will continue working in the future. But God’s presence is experienced in the present. And the present is also the only place where I can practice a principle.
I cannot practice acceptance yesterday.
I cannot practice trust in a situation that will occur tomorrow.
I can only practice acceptance, honesty, patience, forgiveness, gratitude, or trust now.
Maybe that gives “one day at a time” an even greater meaning.
Recovery isn’t lived yesterday or tomorrow; it is lived in the now.
Can You Be Okay Right Now?
Recovery is lived today, in this moment.
Self wants assurance about what happens next.
Will this relationship work?
Will I get the job?
Will my children be okay?
Will I have enough money?
Will this problem go away?
Will I ever be happy?
Those are understandable questions. But we cannot know their answers with full certainty. What we can know is what principle we are going to practice right now. That is the choice available to us.
I can make the next responsible decision without knowing where it will ultimately lead.
I can do what is right without guaranteeing the result.
I can practice the principle and trust my Higher Power with what happens next.
And then, when the next moment arrives, I can do it again.
Contentment Is Learned
The apostle Paul described something very similar in Philippians:
“I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.”
Notice what he said.
He learned it.
He experienced abundance and need. His circumstances changed.
His ability to be okay did not have to depend upon arranging those circumstances according to what he wanted. Contentment does not mean I stop wanting things.
It means:
I don’t have to get what I want in order to be okay.
That is very different from the way self naturally operates.
Self says:
Change the circumstances and then I will be okay.
Spiritual recovery begins teaching us:
I can be okay in this moment even though I don’t know what happens next.
Not because I know the outcome.
Because I am no longer relying entirely upon self to direct it.
So Why Don’t I Feel Better?
There can be other legitimate reasons.
Your body and brain may still be adjusting to life without alcohol. Depression, anxiety, trauma, grief, or other physical or mental-health concerns may require professional help. Seeking appropriate medical or psychological help does not mean you have failed at recovery.
But there is another possibility worth considering.
You stopped drinking.
But self didn’t stop directing.
The same system of thought that may have been operating before you drank, while you drank, and perhaps even contributed to your desire to escape from yourself can still be operating after the alcohol is gone.
It still wants.
It still expects.
It still judges.
It still predicts.
It still tries to arrange the show.
And when the show doesn’t go according to its direction, it still becomes disturbed.
The answer is not to make self a better Director.
The answer is to have a different Director.
Then practice what that Director teaches in the circumstances of your actual life.
Not perfectly. But repeatedly.
Practice these principles in all your affairs.
And watch what begins to change. Maybe the first thing that changes won’t be your circumstances. Maybe it will be the way you respond to them.
Then one day you may notice that you are less angry. Less afraid. Less resentful. Less consumed with getting what you want. Less determined to control what happens next.
You may discover that you can be okay even when everything isn’t going your way. You may even discover the thing you thought you were supposed to find when you got sober.
Peace.
Not because you finally learned how to arrange the show.
But because you finally stopped trying to direct it.
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