Welcome to Sober Sunrise, a podcast bringing you AA speaker meetings with stories of experience, strength, and hope from around the world. We bring you several new speakers weekly, so be sure to subscribe. We hope to always remain an ad-free podcast, so if you'd like to help us remain self-supporting, please visit our website at sober-sunrise.com. Whether you join us in the morning or at night, there's nothing better than a sober sunrise.

I live with a constant frustration. Since I awoke spiritually 35 years ago, I've been living with a sense that where I am, God is every day. And that means I have 35 years worth of stories to tell you of the extraordinary that occurs in the human condition when you're spiritually awake. We've got six to eight hours of actual time on the ground here. So I'd like to make it effective. My plan, as always, is we just start walking through here and I'll share my experience with you. But please feel free to chip in.

I made a list of the people I knew one day to find out what my relationship with them was. In most cases, it was drinking. That was the relationship. Those just had to go because we don't really have anything in common because I don't drink anymore. There were some others where there were other things, but I had to limit that.

For new people, we will tell you the shift is very simple. You just go to a lot of meetings. Hang around with us for a while. It doesn't mean you're going to reject them, but hang around with us for a while until the strength that you need is there. Then you can make a choice. If you have something else going with them, if they're really friends, they will understand that.

Most of my old buddies, the few I've run into on the street, have all said essentially the same thing: "We're really glad you quit drinking." And I love some of them to this day, but we have nothing in common. One of my dearest friends is a pot smoker to this day. We can stay friends. I can't go to his house. I've asked him, "When I come in here, you're forcing me to smoke, too. And that puts my life at risk. So I can't come here. We'll have to go somewhere else." I won't stop him. That's his business. If we're going to meet, we have to meet somewhere else. I haven't seen him for years. That was unacceptable, but my life's on the line. I'm not going to risk it.

If you'll stick around long enough, we can help you walk through that because it is tough. Well, of course it is. That's your whole life. That's what you picked. You've got to make some new friends. Guess who's in this room? Same bunch. If you get the right sponsor, you'll be so busy you won't have a chance to even think about it. I don't know if that helps, but that's the only answer I know. You just change all that.

I've been thinking a lot about what you said yesterday about not needing to relapse, and I agree. I also liked how you made the distinction between being in recovery and just being sober. I can't quote you exactly, but my history's been that I came to AA about ten years ago and had some different experiences. I don't think I've been in recovery until I got sober this time, and I feel like I'm finally getting some recovery. But I also feel like I needed to get to the place where I was seven months ago in order to finally have willingness. And I'm scared because this is the longest I've been sober. I've been without alcohol longer than this before, but a lot of stuff's going on in my life that I don't want to drink again.

I see relapse around me and it frustrates me because I've done it before myself many times. I'm working a fourth step and I feel some freedom from that, but it's also hard. A lot of the stuff that I have to look at is frustrating too, because I see myself doing the same thing over and over and over again. Lately I've been feeling a lot of fear around where I'm at. It's not like I've been craving a drink because I haven't. I feel like that compulsion, for now at least, has been lifted from me. I feel like if I keep doing what I'm doing, that will continue to be that way. But maybe it's that I've set myself up to fail or I don't know what it is. I'm not going to try to understand it. I just thought I would throw that out there.

Our founders made clear two really important things. One is that Alcoholics Anonymous are over 100 men and women who have recovered. Then later on they tell us who won't recover: people who cannot or will not completely give themselves to this simple program. And you're right in the middle of it. So you're safe and protected. It's only when we stop and don't give ourselves completely. This is a complete process. You don't stop at the third step. You don't stop at the sixth step. As long as you're involved in it, you're accessing spiritual power and you're going to be okay. But it is scary.

The only history I have is that I'm going to screw this up on my own. Well, you're not on your own anymore. Completely give yourself to this simple process. Rarely does anybody fail at that. Thank you for bringing it up. Talking about it means you're free for now. You get scared this afternoon, but we're here, you know.

The day does come when I know I'm not going to sabotage this. It's all part of slowly awakening. Just stick close because we'll laugh at you. And once you start laughing at yourself, you'll be okay. If you can laugh at yourself, you're okay.

I was about five years sober. This wasn't a thought of a drink, but I was terribly disappointed because I didn't get to go do something I wanted to do. The depression hit. This was one of those killer depressions that come along. Fear, terror. This whole AA thing's been a lie because I've still got that little piece of "I've been a good boy. God, how come I don't get to go to the movies?" Steps wouldn't work. Talking to people didn't work. It just made it feel worse. Intuitively, I went home and literally pulled the covers over my head and went to sleep and I was fine in the morning. Sometimes that's all it takes. Total surrender.

My whole life was ruined because I didn't get to go to Denver and go to the movies. It's like my five-year-old granddaughter. It was Wednesday or Thursday. She's playing with the boys in the backyard—her little brother and some neighborhood kids—and they're playing ball. She wanted the green ball. The kids wouldn't give her the green ball. She came up on the porch and sat by me and she said, "They've ruined my life. They just ruined my life. They won't give me the green ball."

Let's take a break then. Everybody can talk with each other. We'll see you after lunch about one. The whoopie pies will be wide awake for a while.

One of the things I liked about the Alcoholics Anonymous presentation is this: I've been on a spiritual search since I was little. I have always known my answer would be spiritual, but I was a spiritual thief because I'm lazy. I've had a lot of exposure to a lot of different things, and almost without exception, to get to the truth you have to go through several degrees. "We'll teach you this much. But there are secrets and mysteries. And once you get prepared for this one, we'll move you on to the next one." And it's just not true. I rebel at that. I comply, but I rebel.

It's like school. I'm a reasonably intelligent person, but I didn't want to do all that work and I thought it was silly. I didn't want to be noticed. I was an awfully good C student. Now and then you have to throw a B in there. And if she's cute enough and you're in that class, you'll get an A. But I'm a C student because I don't have to work at that. I can do that without doing any work at all. That's the way I would approach things. I want an instant answer.

Now, the other side of that is that in God's world, and in the relationship we're going to develop here, everything is on easy and understandable terms. All I have to do is be willing. And I look at this and sure enough, there's not a secret in here. The entire deal is laid out before you even enter into the activities of recovery. It lays out what they're going to be and tells you the order. "I can't go through with it." That's what a lot of us said. This is a tough path, but there's no secret to it. If you want what we have, here's how we got it. And if you don't, that's fine. We really don't mind. But there's no secrets. And I like that very much.

In my working with people, I've discovered something. Over a period of years and making some mistakes in the doing of this, I finally came to understand that my effectiveness comes from the fact that I do not talk to the sickness anymore. I know who you are. You're one of God's kids, and that's who I'm talking to. I can't help you with your sickness. All I can do is help awaken your spirit, and your spirit will take care of your own healing.

So as a sponsor, I'm really kind of a poor sponsor if you need a crisis counselor because I'm not. And I'll tell you that. If that's what you need, they get a hundred dollars an hour and I have a list of them. That doesn't mean that in a real crisis I won't be there. But God forbid you call me at 2:30 in the morning time after time because you're in a crisis. Your lack of good planning does not constitute a crisis for me.

The truth is, it's the spirit of God within you waking up and forming a relationship with God that solves the problem. I can't. I'm really bad at relationship problems. I've never been able to figure out how to have a successful sick relationship. So I can't be of any help to you. I'm sorry. I can show you how to develop a relationship with God. And once that one's all right, the rest of them will be too.

You might as well understand right now that not everybody's going to like you. In fact, sometimes the only way I can measure my effectiveness is by the quality of my enemies. And I had some really high-quality enemies. Now, they're enemies only in the sense that they oppose me. I do not fight back. I'm out of fight. I fought my last battle. I'm done. I have no more rights. I used them all up. If I demand my rights, what that means is you've got to give up some of yours. I just don't have any. I don't even have a right to be here. Rights are a man-made thing. God says it's for everybody. You're all equal. Have a ball.

I think we're funny. We live on God's amusement park planet, and we take it seriously. If you can't have fun on this planet, there's something really wrong with you. This place is filled with amazing, interesting, funny creatures. Human beings being among the best at being funny and weird and strange. The endless variations on the theme is just amazing to me.

I told Jackie one time, "I'm thinking seriously of coming back one more time, but I think I'll come back rich so I can travel and see more of this planet." She laughed and said, "You're doing that now on other people's money." What do you mean? I discovered the difference between rich and wealthy. I'm an extremely wealthy man. I'm wealthy way beyond money. And it's a good thing because I don't know what to do with money except spend it.

I've lived long enough that the government sends me $817 a month as long as I promise not to work. You got it. No problem at all. Work interferes with real life anyway.

I had a fellow call me one night. I really do enjoy the 2:30 in the morning calls because you really don't have to wake up. People who call at that time of the morning do not want answers. They just want to talk. So you get just enough weight to go, "Oh yeah. Aha. Really?" I've thought about just getting a little loop tape, but this guy called me. I get the psychopaths. Well, I know who they are. They're frightened children. So I know who they are. Just "God bless this guy." And you can't think of things like this at 2:30 in the morning. I just trust in God. Whatever you want me to say to this one.

He talked to everybody and couldn't get an answer. So one of them finally said to call me, and it was 2:30 in the morning, but he did. He followed instructions. He was drunk. He had a serious problem. The next day, he had five DUIs he had to go to court on. His problem was, "What do I do?"

Well, you go to court. That's what you do. We talked a little bit, and I just automatically started asking questions like I was taught. One of them was, "Would you like to stop drinking?" He said, "No. I don't think so. I'd like to drink till I'm about 55 and then quit."

And I heard this come out of my mouth. It delights me. I said, "Oh, I'm sorry. You've called the wrong person. Obviously, you don't have a drinking problem. You have a driving problem. And I still drive. I don't know how to quit. So I can't help you. But if you'd ever like to stop drinking, keep my number handy."

I'm thinking, "Wow, did I say that? If I'd have been all the way awake, I'd have missed that one." But those are the kind of truths that are there. I couldn't be of any help to him. Not at all.

Because I've made a commitment that my life is no longer my business. Only the conduct of my life is my business, and it is entirely my business. But my life itself is none of my business. I will go and try to do what I think God would have me do. The directions in this book say that means I'm to work with other alcoholics and show them precisely how I've recovered from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body. That's all I have to do. And that is so serious a task that it's beyond me.

People come to me and they put their lives in my hands literally. I don't know what to do. That's a serious deal. So I have to stay spiritually fit so that the voice of God can come through me. So that I can be responsive instead of reactive. So I can tell the truth even though it may hurt somebody's feelings. The truth must be the truth.

I got an image on that the other day. I want to share with you some of the joys of what goes on in my quiet time. I believe and have believed for years that our job with each other is to pierce each other deep in the heart with the sword of truth. My job is to keep that sword so sharp that it goes in and comes out without leaving a wound. That's a nice picture of what I believe. How do I do this in such a way that it's not cruel?

I'm taught here that the way I do that is instead of talking about you, I talk about me. When I make a fool of me, you get to see what a fool you are, too. And then we can both laugh at it. Instead of me calling you a fool, I look at this old fool. Doesn't always work. I've had them threaten to kill me in my own driveway. Sometimes it goes in and out so sharp they don't even feel it. But that's all right.

I love Bill's story. Let's spend a minute with that. Here's a man who has, by drinking alcohol, put himself in a position where he truly is of no value. Been in and out of the hospital where Dr. Silkworth was twice before. So he had all the information again. I know that whatever information Silkworth gave us here that saved my life, Bill had it. It just didn't get through.

He's drinking quite a bit. According to what I read, he had at least two quarts of gin at hand and another one stashed off somewhere and was giving thought to maybe getting some more so he could get through the night. That tells me he was drinking somewhere between one and three quarts of gin a day. That's a lot of juice.

He's sitting there drinking that, and an old friend of his shows up: Ebby Thatcher. They've been on some great drunks before. Ebby wanted to come over and visit. Bill thought that's a good idea. We can drink together and relive the old times. When you've got nothing going today, relive the old times. Sounds like some of the meetings I've been to lately.

Ebby shows up, and I ask myself when I'm working with others, "Would I fit this profile? If you were looking in and looking at me, would you see this?" Here's what Ebby looked like to Bill. Remember, Bill's drinking. He's not sober. He's drinking. The door opened and he stood there fresh-skinned and glowing. Well, there was something about his eyes. He was inexplicably different. What had happened? Even in a drinking state, partly drunk, Bill recognized there's something different about my old buddy here. Don't know what it is, but there's something different going on here. Would you see that in me?

I saw that in Bruce and Rowan and Phil. I pushed a drink across the table. He refused it. Disappointed but curious, I wonder what had gotten into the fellow. He wasn't himself. "What's this about?" I inquired. He looked straight at me, simply but smilingly. He said, "I've got religion."

The key is "simply and smilingly." I was a gas. So that was it. Last summer, an alcoholic crackpot. Now, as I suspected, a little cracked about religion. He had that starry-eyed look. Do you have that when you're going to talk to somebody? But bless his heart, let him rant. My gin would last longer than his preaching.

But he did no ranting. See, on page nine of the book Alcoholics Anonymous, they were already being taught how to twelve-step. He did no ranting. In a matter-of-fact way, he spoke just facts. This is not extraordinary. Even Bill listened. He told how two men had appeared in court persuading the judge to suspend his commitment. That tells me something else. The two men who came and got Ebby had such a presence and a power that they convinced a local judge to let them have certain bodies if they asked for them. We still do that, you know. I don't know if you all know it. We have three guys from the prison unit out here. They're inmates.

You guys just show them who you are? Look here. These are guys that are doing time. Somebody went over there—probably Brian, because he's such an articulate little fellow—and convinced them that it would be all right to send three of their dangerous criminals to a four-age camp for the afternoon. That's funny, isn't it? That's heavy stuff. If you want to wonder what kind of spirit, what spiritual power is about, you're looking at it. They did certain things to prepare themselves and somebody else did certain things and they're here. I love that. And that's just matter of fact. That's where they're from. They get to go back tonight to their hair-legged boyfriends while we go home. But here we are today.

I stole that from an old-timer. Oh god, that was funny. He came out of San Quentin. This was a tough badass. Got sober. He married a lovely, beautiful woman. We ended up getting to take him into our maximum security penitentiary to give a talk one time. That's how he finished it up. He said, "I want you guys to know this is the message," and he introduced his wife. She stood up, gorgeous lady. He said, "I get to go home to that and you get to go back to your cell with your hair-legged boyfriend. Thank you." And he sat down. Just that's the sword of truth.

We're really glad you guys are here. I'm not making fun of you. They are a demonstration. If you're wondering about the power, there it is. That's not supposed to happen. It's just not supposed to happen. And that's what happened clear back here. Roland Hazard and another fella got the judge to turn Ebby over to them. Ebby was a lost cause. They were getting ready to lock him up forever. What they had was a simple religious idea and a practical program of action. That's what we inherited.

There's a religious idea at the foundation of Alcoholics Anonymous. It came out of a fundamentalist Christian operation, a revival movement. While we are not religiously tied, that spiritual idea is at the foundation of what we do. Most spiritual ideas are. They're all about the same. But that's where we came from. In addition to that, there was a practical program of action that went along with this deal.

He'd come along to pass his experience along to me if I cared to have it. Is that my attitude when I'm going out to work? Or am I evangelistic about this, and "you by God will take what I have to offer, you will get sober," and we'll talk ugly about you or whatever it is? "If I cared to have it," we were invited into Alcoholics Anonymous, not forced.

When I came into that group, we weren't even given credit for going. The guys who put together my prison group took all the incentives away. They talked the administration out of making a list that would be looked at by the parole board. Nobody knew whether we went or not. Strictly voluntary.

He talked for hours. I can do that. You can do that. One of the most fun times at a speaker meeting is when a new person is allowed to talk for the first time, and you'll hear this: "I don't have much to say." Get comfortable. It's going to be a long night.

Childhood memories raised before me. Ebby brought out Bill's memories by talking about himself. Some of the stories I've told and some people here have raised memories. This is how we identify with each other. I didn't do that exact thing, but that sure sounds familiar. How many of you stole money from your kid's piggy bank? Yeah. See, we're not alone. Why not? It's easier to get than robbing a bank. Brian, if you'd have known that, you wouldn't have had to go to prison. Can you see him robbing a bank? If I were a teller, I'd say, "Oh, have a sucker and go sit down and wait for your mother." But he's a fine man, gentle and kind.

I really wanted what they had. I could see in at least these three people—the three primary ones and some of the ones coming in—I could see change. I could see men who, whether I understood it or not, were living a very successful life, a peaceful life and a useful life in a difficult environment.

I had always believed in a power greater than myself. I had often pondered these things. I was not an atheist. Yeah, I'm talking about me now. Few people really are. That means the blind faith in the strange proposition that this universe originated in a cipher and it aimlessly rushes nowhere. Just a quick glance around tells you there are great forces at work here. There is order in this universe. There are principles at work. Do this, this occurs. There must be some kind of intelligence here, and it's beyond my grasp, but there must be. That's clear. Doesn't have anything to do with me, but there must be.

Despite contrary indications, I had little doubt that a mighty purpose and rhythm underlay it all. I know about rhythm. I've sensed rhythm since I was little. I come from a musical family. Life is about music. Everyone is busy singing their song, and if we do it right, it becomes a chorus. If we do it wrong, it's disharmony. I'm not a good singer of music, but I do fine with somebody who is good, and I'm just adding harmonies to it, or in a chorus where you can't really hear me. I'm just blending in. But we're all singers of a song in one way or another, and there is a rhythm.

The business of being on time. Let me tell you, this is fun to me, and also I'm going to tell you what will spark something, I hope, and you can't learn how to do this. Well, I'm here now. I'm here now. I'm on time for everything. One of the things I learned from the Salvation Army is that people respond better if they're fed first. A lot of missions make you listen to the preaching first and then feed you. The Sally always fed us first, then preached at us.

One of the things I like to do is meet with my guys while we're eating. I meet with a small group every Tuesday morning. We go over to the Peeps and have breakfast. Good meeting. Anyway, where I worked was about three blocks from a place that was built to serve people who had garlic deficiencies. It's a little Italian restaurant named Dario's. You can smell it for blocks. I have a severe garlic deficiency. I go as often as I can.

I also, as a result of a misspent youth and a misspent middle age—and misspent middle age is a misspent youth—I have neuropathy in my feet. So there are times I can walk okay and there's times I can't walk too good. This place is three blocks away and we usually just walk because there's no place to park. Three blocks is as close as you're ever going to get to it.

I had this guy come down. "We're going to go to lunch." It was a day I wasn't walking good. So we walked over to my van. I told him to get in. He said, "It's only three blocks. Let's just walk." And I did sponsor talk. I said, "Just get in the van. If you're new, that's what—don't ask why. Just get in a damn car, you know."

We drove up there, and as we pulled up in front, a car pulled out and we pulled in and parked. Now I've come to expect that. I really have. He was amazed. "Isn't this wonderful? God got us a place to park." And I want to slap him. I don't have a parking spot, God. It's better than nothing, but for me that's absurd.

What happened is that we were on time. Had we gotten there thirty seconds sooner, we'd have passed it before the other car got out. We'd been thirty seconds later, the guy in front of us would have gotten the spot. We just happened to be on time. There's a rhythm you get into when you get fully present that really does occur.

Now, I'd rather you believed in a parking lot god than be nothing. But I will slap you in about six months from now. We got to New York. Oh, this is so funny. Jackie and I had occasion to go to New York to do one of these deals with our friend Jerry Elkins. Some of you know Jerry. Jackie and I and Jerry and Gail—I were due in New York to do a thing for Tom Needham. We go early because we love New York. We don't want to live there, but we just love New York. We're country folks. This is a wild place up there in New York.

I sponsored a kid from Birmingham, Alabama, who is a writer and a producer of films who moved to New York. He has an apartment, so we stay with him. It's way too expensive to go to New York and not stay with a friend. Anyway, we're going to stay in Brooklyn Heights and Jerry and Gail have a friend down in the East Village and they're going to stay there.

I was down at Myrtle Beach talking with David Russell, who came out of New York. I asked David if he knew anybody that could pick us up at LaGuardia and drop us off in Brooklyn Heights and down in the East Village. John Cognately was there. David sponsors him. He looked at John and said, "He will get in a car." John said, "Oh, sure. I'd love to."

Sure enough, John picks us up at LaGuardia and we head across the bridge for the East Village to drop Jerry and Gail off. It becomes apparent John has never driven in New York before. He doesn't have a clue. We're also headed into the East Village and there's no place to park there until you get up to about 47th Street. We pull up at the corner where Jerry and Gail are supposed to get off and a car pulls out and we pulled right in.

So I told John about being on time. For the rest of the week it was wonderful. He was precise to the moment. Everything worked out just fine. We had dinner at his folks' place. This is in an Italian enclave in what is it—Hoboken. Yonkers. I get the wrong town every time. Five and a half hour feeding frenzy. Everybody's busy competing with everybody else as to who can make the best and the most. The food just keeps arriving. The hors d'oeuvres were three meals worth themselves. The Italians are running around screaming, "I love you. I love you. I love you," in every way that they can. Just wonderful, animated. Oh, great time.

We slept there and John was going to pick us up at 5:30 and get us to the airport in the morning. At five, he wasn't there. At 5:15, he wasn't there. So his mother called. He hadn't gotten out of bed yet. We just barely made our airplane.

On the way, John said, "I got so intrigued with this being on time that I started to try to manage it and almost blew the whole thing." And that's what goes on here. Don't try to manage this. If you try to be on time, you're going to be either too early or too late. Just be on time. What would he have me be here, now?

You've all read Bill's story. If you haven't, I suggest you do. "The wars which have been fought, the burnings in sorcery that religious dispute have facilitated made me sick." Yeah, me too. I am willing to go anywhere there's a spiritual person talking about spiritual things and have been from the beginning.

We were listening to one of them one time, a truly spiritual man. One of the guys was angry and he stopped the guy. He says, "Look, tell me this. If God's so almighty powerful, why didn't he stop war?" And the answer was simple: "He didn't start it." Our troubles are of our own making. More little clues as to what going to happen inside of me.

My friend sat before me and he made the point-blank declaration that God had done for him what he could not do for himself. Is that me? Yeah. I will tell you right in front of myself. I am nothing. But see what God has done with me. And that's where the power comes from. No other place.

His human will had failed. Doctors had pronounced him incurable. Sounds familiar. The hospital said, "We can't help this one. Just lock him up." So I'm getting identification here. Are you? If you're not, I wonder what the hell you're doing here at the four-age camp with a bunch of convicts. Well, there's only three of them.

Like myself, he had admitted complete defeat. Then he had, in effect, been raised from the dead. Suddenly taking from the scrap heap to a level of life better than the best he had ever known. Had this power originated in him? Obviously not. There had been no more power in him than there was in me at that minute. And that was none at all.

I saw that my friend was reorganized. He was on a different footing. His roots grasped a new soil. I suggest you remember that while this is going on, Bill's drunk. Seriously drunk. And yet he's seeing this. It's important in AA today to remember we deal with drunks. So when they show up at the meeting, that's what we're there for. I've been to meetings or heard of meetings where they actually won't let you in if you're drunk. What the hell are we about anyway?

If you're disruptive or try to hurt somebody, I'll help throw you out. But if you're drunk, come on in. One of my favorite people was an old Indian that used to come to our meeting drunk. He would always sit right next to the chairperson at the long table—chairperson here and then down the tables—and as soon as the meeting started, he'd go to sleep. Then when the meeting was over, he'd jog himself awake and hold hands and say the Lord's Prayer and go back to the street.

Some of the members were kind of testy about that, but you know what I saw? For one hour each week, he had a safe place to go. For one hour where he didn't have to worry and he could sleep. And twice each week he got to pray and be among some people. Who knows what he heard while he was sleeping? I don't. The main thing is he had a safe place to go and sleep for an hour a week. We should have had a meeting every day. If that's all I get out of it, that's all I get out of it. I got a lot out of it.

It's those damn cookies. Don't worry about it, Casey. They're making fun of you. There's the promise that I was looking for. I didn't come to get sober. I came to be changed. And here we begin to get it. He's on a different footing. Inwardly reorganized. And Bruce was very helpful with that. He says, "We can't fix you. There's too many parts missing. And most of the ones that are still there are warped."

I love warped. I was and am warped. There isn't a box made that I fit into. You got to put packing in around it, and even then I'll find a way out. The only funny people I know are warped.

I met two adults in my life I didn't want anything they had. Jeez, they were serious about everything. What I want to be when I grow up is a kid. In fact, I don't ever want to grow up. I think I'll try very hard to die before that happens. I'm making a good game on it, aren't I, honey? Getting younger and younger. I care less and less about what's going on in the world and more and more what's going on in the world.

Bill went in for conceptions such as creative intelligence and all that. Mine was: "He who there is one, he built all this deal and then he rested and he's still resting." All those conceptions are just dodges, the ways for me not to have to really get in and find out