Lynn Grabhorn - Beyond the Twelve Steps: Roadmap to a New Life

Other Books by Lynn Grabhorn

Excuse Me, Your Life Is Waiting

The Excuse Me, Your Life Is Waiting Playbook

Copyright 1992

by Lynn Grabhorn

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this work in any form whatsoever, without permission in writing from the publisher, except for brief passages in connection with a review.

Cover design by Garn Turner

Cover art by Turner Type and Design

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Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 00-111727

ISBN 1-57174-267-0

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3

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Many magnificent beings have provided the inspiration for these pages, and I can't begin to adequately express my gratitude. Yet there is one who took me by the nape of my frozen image and forcefed me straight into that fervent, unswerving desire to go beyond. He's a crafty old goat who has stopped at nothing to teach me love of Self. He has pushed, prodded, manipulated, scolded, infuriated, and loved me beyond possible measure. To him, my first teacher whom I love as Life itself, I appreciatively and reverently dedicate this book.

Without sobriety, not only would this new journey be impossible, but I rather doubt I'd be here to take it. So my first and deepest thanks goes to Alcoholics Anonymous and those grand, hard-nosed old-timers of my early sobriety in Hollywood. Of course, anyone with a few days on the Program was an old-timer to me then, like Eddie, who I didn't know from Adam and had about two months at the time. Every night, for the first thirty days of my sobriety, he'd appear at my door to take me to a meeting. And I'd go. How often I've wondered if I would have made it had it not been for Eddie. And Mary Pat, my sponsor, who listened for hours on end to my ramblings, offering just the right words to get me out of my own stumbling way. Chuck C., Clancy, Alabam, Polly Hall, just old-time names to most, but names that meant life to me.

In more recent times, I want to deeply acknowledge Jale Greenlief for her inspiring contribution to the foundations of Adult Children of Alcoholics. Her intense eight-week workshop, in my twenty-third year on A.A., was the turning point which freed me to follow this new path.

And I want to extend a very special thanks to a unique group of men and women who have made so many of these grand teachings available to tens of thousands around the world. While this is only a small portion of the list, among those whom I particularly want to thank are Jane Roberts, who channeled all of the Seth books; J. Z. Knight, who channels Ramtha; Jackie Snyder, who channels Zarathustra; Penny Torres, who channels Mafu; Ken Carey, who channels all manner of cosmic beings; and most of all, Didi Carstens, who channels, among others, Rajni.

Many patient souls extended a hand in editing this book. My friend Joan Babcock from Wisconsin came to Washington for six weeks to work on editing. Didi Carstens gave me a major hand in rewriting a couple of difficult chapters. My sister, Mary Yoder, offered suggestions from the very first draft, while both Kathy Hawn and Julie Shorten helped me to see some different perspectives. In fact, to all who have so lovingly assisted in this project go my deepest thanks and appreciation, beginning first and foremost with Bill W. and Doctor Bob!

You have some time on the Program. Or, as one might say in more casual circles, you've been around a while. You're at that stage where on one hand newcomers look up to you as someone who's been there, and on the other, you feel you can finally hold your own in a conversation with those blasted, beloved old timers.

And what's the Program? Well, it could be any one of the dozens of Twelve-Step Programs to which millions of us now attribute a better life, or even being alive. Or both. Alcoholics Anonymous, Cocaine Anonymous, Al-Anon, Narcotics Anonymous, Adult Children of Alcoholics, Alateen, Nicotine Anonymous, Debtors Anonymous, or You-Name-It-Anonymous; if you've ever sat through a bunch of meetings in some grungy church basement and heard, Rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed these steps... , you're a Twelve-Stepper.

You feel fairly comfortable on the Program most of the time. Not great, really, but OK, except for that relentless gnawing. No matter; you have a moderately good relationship with your Higher Power, you speak at meetings off and on, and you probably still have one or two babies or pigeons, those newcomers who incessantly bug you on the other end of a phone.

Basically, you've got it together. You're sober, or clean, or in a process of releasing, slimming, whatever. You feel pretty good about your Program on the whole. You go to an acceptable number of meetings, take a good Tenth Step now and then, and may even opt for some occasional Twelfth-Step work when pressed. A model member. But this feeling that there's something more just won't leave you alone. Ninety percent of the time you're not even aware of it, but that other ten percent, what is it?

You go about your life pretty much by rote. You wake up in the morning not flying, but OK, and hit work with the same hi to the same boss every day. You dutifully reach for that scrungy coffee cup with your name on it and begin your workday after the usual complaints about the coffee's quality. You listen to the same, unfunny jokes from the bunch, laugh at the appropriate spots (God forbid you shouldn't be one of the troops!), and make the obligatory comments about Susie's new dress and how low it's cut.

Nothing changes, particularly you. There's no excitement, no newness. Maybe you should get more involved with the Program again, maybe get more newcomers to work with, or put in some hours down at Central Office. Maybe it's time for another inventory. Damn! What is it?

Then come the long walks. Are you really looking for something, or is it just spring fever in January? A new church, or dance group, or study group, anything new to fill that void.

Perhaps you should share the feeling at a meeting? No, you guess not. How can you talk about a feeling when you don't even know what the feeling is you're feeling?

So what is it? If you really tried, could you put your finger on it? Empty? Lonely? Or just basically unjazzed? Of course, you don't want to look at it too closely because it might be nothing more than midlife crisis or college doldrums.

Then again, maybe your situation isn't so subtle. Maybe you're one of the Dear-God-how-did-I-ever-get-myself-into-this-mess-and-if-it-doesn't-change-soon-I'm-going-to-kill-myself group. And you go to meetings, smiling your usual answer to the usual greetings, Oh, fine, thanks. I'm just fine.

You keep stuffing the feelings as unrecognizable. After all, you're sober, or clean, or releasing, or off cigarettes and card tables, aren't you? What else is important? Finally, in shoulder-shrugging resignation, you conclude it's probably nothing. After all, your life is a damn sight better than it was before the Program, and isn't that what it's all about?

No! That kind of thinking won't work any longer. Everything is not fine, not by a long shot. By capping your feelings, denying what the magnificent inner voice within you is trying to scream into your sleeping consciousness, you're simply stuffing them farther down to fester yet another day. No, this is definitely not what life is all about.