Entirely Ready

In practice, step six turns out to be one of the most difficult of the twelve steps, because saying we’re entirely ready and being entirely ready are two very different things. What we are entirely ready for, actually, is to have the difficulties our defects cause us removed while we hang on to the defects themselves. ~The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous (Kindle Locations 621-623).

Why does giving up my character defects
cause panic, or at least fear, to raise its head?
How does the character defect of playing computer games
help me? They fascinate me, keep my mind sharp,
give me a sense of winning competitions,
make the drivel on television bearable.
How does it harm me? The hours in the day vanish,
accomplishments postponed.
How does near or real tardiness help me?
Smalltalk is avoided so how little I know
of people in my life stays my secret.
I’m “awarded” the recognition
of “most likely to be late to meetings”
and wanting to rage against it
leaves me embarrassed and frustrated.
My character defects comfort me,
changing them scares me, and I choose
to maintain the familiar discomfort.
I haven’t yet believed the good feelings
of their removal matter more
than the status quo.
Garth Brooks tells me,
“So don’t you sit upon the shoreline
And say you’re satisfied
Choose to chance the rapids
And dare to dance the tide…
I’ll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
‘Til the river runs dry…”
I’m not in charge of changing
anything except my
inflexibility. I can stumble haltingly
into the freedom. I’m not in charge.
Delay is dangerous,
and rebellion may be fatal.
This is the exact point
at which we abandon limited objectives,
and move toward God’s will for us. (1)

 

 

(1) AA World Services Inc. Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (p. 69).