” … this emerging from isolation through the open and honest sharing of our terrible burden of guilt, brings us to a resting place where we may prepare ourselves for the following Steps … .” (12 & 12, p. 62) “What we’re all striving for is authenticity, a spirit – to – spirit connection.” – Oprah Winfrey (1954 – ) U.S., TV mogul / actor
Under what circumstances have you felt especially connected with your HP or fellows?
Immense is my love for the seasons of the year,
for you are the seasons of my life, forever.
To feel the seasons, to have you near,
the joy of feeling you beside me, always together.
The autumn colours with its splendor,
reflection of the spectrum of life you bring me,
makes me feel the love so tender,
for it is a rainbow I see,
that brings me joy and pleasure,
to have found you at the end of the rainbow, my treasure.
The winter, cold, pure snow,
the serenity of the snow-covered fields and hills.
It is for me to feel and know
the warmth within you that my heart fills,
to warm me on those cold winter days,
which you fulfill in so many little ways.
With a wonder of new life emerging,
nature awakens with a light spring shower,
you bring about life as does spring,
so you fill my heart like a blooming flower.
You make me feel life’s meaning, serenity,
which I shall treasure, through eternity.
So soft is the summer breeze, the warmth of the night,
the days of clear skies, sun so bright.
So soft is your touch, so light,
so sweet is your smile, beauty for the sight.
It is as the warmth and light of the summer that us endears,
bringing us together for all future years.
The seasons of the year once more
renders nature with beauty not forgotten.
The beauty of you which I adore,
for your vivaciousness, I’m smitten.
Seasons – winter, spring, summer, and fall,
throughout the years of past and to be,
I realize the true love of all,
is the lease of life your passion enriches me.
“… in Steps One through Three, we were given the basic tools we need to negotiate the path of recovery.” “On this spiritual foundation, we lay the principles of commitment and perseverance as we work the Sixth Step.” (It Works, How & Why, p. 44)
What experiences have you had with overcoming adversity, lately?
Vikram was a brave king. Once, he had to fight against a large army with just a few soldiers, he was defeated. He had to run for his life.
Vikram took shelter in a forest cave. He was very depressed. His courage had left him. He was blankly gazing at the ceiling of the cave. An interesting scene captured his attention.
A small spider was trying to weave a web across the cave ceiling. As the spider crawled up, a thread of the web broke and the spider fell down. But the spider did not give up. He tried to climb again and again. Finally, the spider successfully climbed up and completed the web.
Vikram began to think, “If a small spider can face failure so bravely, why should I give up? I will try with all might till I win”. This thought gave strength to the defeated king.
Vikram got out of the jungle and collected his brave soldiers. He fought against the large army. He was defeated again. But now, he would not give up his fight.
Vikram, again and again, fought against the large army and finally, after many attempts defeated the large army and regained his kingdom. He had learned a lesson from the spider.
MORAL: Perseverance paves the way to success. (http://www.english-for-students.com/The-King-and-The-Spider.html)
“Self-searching is the means by which we bring new vision, action, and grace to bear upon the dark and negative side of our natures. With it comes the development of that kind of humility that makes it possible for us to receive God’s [or our HP’s]* help.” (As Bill Sees It, p. 10)
How have you been loving when helping someone close deal with pain in their own lives, lately?
ONCE upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“‘T is some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door;
Only this and nothing more.
”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;¡ªvainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow¡ªsorrow for the lost Lenore,
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore:
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me¡ªfilled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“‘T is some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door:
This it is and nothing more.
”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”¡ªhere I opened wide the door:¡ª
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore:”
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore;
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore:
‘T is the wind and nothing more.
”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door,
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door:
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,¡ª
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore:
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.
”
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning¡ªlittle relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.
”
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered, not a feather then he fluttered,
Till I scarcely more than muttered,¡ª”Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.
” Then the bird said, “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore:
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never¡ªnevermore.
‘
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore,
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.
”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
80
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee¡ªby these angels he hath sent thee
Respite¡ªrespite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!”
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore.
“Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted¡ª
On this home by Horror haunted¡ªtell me truly, I implore:
Is there¡ªis there balm in Gilead?¡ªtell me¡ªtell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.
” 90
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil¡ªprophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us, by that God we both adore,
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore:
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore!” 95
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.
”
“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting:
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door! 100
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.
”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
Andthe lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor:
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted¡ªnevermore!
“The point is, that we are willing to grow along spiritual lines. The principles we have set down are guides to progress. We claim spiritual progress rather than spiritual perfection.” (The Big Book, p. 60)
What are some of the indicators you use to gauge your own spiritual progress, lately?
One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley.
A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes, they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen.
The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart.
Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, “Why your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine.”
The crowd and the young man looked at the old man’s heart. It was beating strongly… but full of scars. It had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in … but they didn’t fit quite right and there were several jagged edges.
In fact, in some places, there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing. The people starred … how could he say his heart is more beautiful, they thought?
The young man looked at the old man’s heart and saw its state and laughed “You must be joking,” he said,
“Compare your heart with mine… mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears.”
“Yes,” said the old man, “Yours is perfect looking… but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love….I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them … and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart… but because the pieces aren’t exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared. Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away… and the other person hasn’t returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges… giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too… and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now, do you see what true beauty is?”
The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands.
The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man’s heart. It fit…. but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges.
The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever since love from the old man’s heart flowed into his. They embraced and walked away side by side.
Physical perfection is not always beautiful. (http://www.english-for-students.com/the-most-beautiful-heart.html)
“Before we admitted the truth about our addiction, we knew only the darkness of denial. But when we surrendered … a ray of light broke through the darkness, beginning our spiritual awakening.” (It Works, How & Why, p. 83)
Try and describe one of your own “ray of light” moments that has a glimpse of some spiritual awakening, lately?
“King lion was getting ready to go to war and called all the other animals. But his ministers asked him to dismiss the donkey and the rabbit, because one was too stupid and the other was too easily scared.” (see below)
What do you think might make you less than entirely ready to make the changes you want to see?
“Were entirely ready
to have God remove all
these defects of character.”
THE DILEMMA –
“The key words
“entirely ready” under-
line the fact that we want to
aim at the very best we know
or can learn. How many of
us have this degree of
readiness?” (12 &
12, p. 65)
THE SOLUTION –
“The lifelong process
of the Sixth Step is just
that a process.” “Our job
is to become entirely ready
and to open our hearts and
minds to the deep internal
changes that can only be
brought about by the
presence of a loving
God.” (It Works, How
& Why, p. 42)
“It’s not that
some people have
willpower and some
don’t. It’s that some
people are ready to
change and others
are not.”
– James Gordon, M.D. – holistic healer
The Forest King goes to War :
“King lion was getting ready to go to war and called all the other animals.
But his ministers asked him to dismiss the donkey and the rabbit, because one was too stupid and the other was too easily scared.
‘Not at all,’ refused the king. ‘The donkey has a voice which is even more resounding than mine. He can be the trumpeter.’
‘The rabbit, being so quick, will be invaluable for carrying messages,’ added the king. To win a war you must know how to get the best out of everyone.’” (http://www.english-for-students.com/The-Forest-King-goes-to-War.html)
“He (Vaicya) performed sacrifices, made liberal gifts, was peaceful, devoted to the duties of his own order, and pure in habits and mind.” (excerpt from the Mahabharata below)
Provide some examples of where your actions or words caused either joy or misery, lately?
“There lived on the other side of the ocean a Vaicya (commoner) who had an abundance of wealth and corn. He performed sacrifices, made liberal gifts, was peaceful, devoted to the duties of his own order, and pure in habits and mind. [Vaicya] had many sons whom he loved, and was kind unto all creatures. He lived fearlessly in the dominions of a king that was guided by virtue.
There was a crow that lived on the refuse of the dishes set before those well-behaved young children. Those Vaicya children always gave the crow meat and curds, and milk, and sugared milk with rice, and honey, and butter. Thus fed with the refuse of their dishes by the young children of that Vaicya. The crow became arrogant and came to disregard all birds that were equal to him or even superior.
It chanced that on a time certain swans of cheerful hearts, of great speed and capable of going everywhere at will and equal unto Garuda himself in range and speed of flight, came to that side of the ocean.” …(https://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type0105.html)
How have you been of some comfort to someone else, lately?
Then Joy Stepped In
by Willhemina Stitch
“Said she, ‘I will not live with grief from morrow unto morrow. My heart cries out for some relief, ‘Good-bye, my little sorrow.’ She closed the windows of her home and pulled down every blind. ‘I’m going forth, ‘ she cried, ‘to roam. You, Grief, can stay behind.’ ‘And I’ll be gone the livelong day, expect me back to-night.’
Grief wanly watched her go away into the warmth and light; With quickened step and brightened eyes she mingled with the throng. Instead of pale Grief’s moans and sighs she heard Endeavour’s song. She saw a sister, crossed the road and asked her how she fared: Then helped to lift her heavy load and in the burden shared.
Throughout the day Self-was suppressed whilst Service took its place. When she returned at night to rest – of Grief there was no trace! But Joy stepped forth and sweetly said, ‘May I now be your friend instead? ‘”
