In his poem “A Persian Lesson” Walter Whitman wrote: “It is the central urge in every atom, (Often unconscious, often evil, downfallen)/ To return to its divine source and origin, however distant,/ Latent the same in subject and in object, without one exception."

I was too busy dancing, as is said, like a cat on a hot tin roof, that I did not always know I was running away from my Self and my God. Only upon reflection did it become clear to me that the years of active addiction were years involved in a marathon running away from who I am, from my ‘divine source and origin.’

C.S. Lewis said that “in reading great literature, we transcend ourselves, and we are never more ourselves than when we do that. We feel a buoyancy, an alchemical quintessence, a shimmering aliveness that is both still and in motion.”

When I read that, it made perfect sense to me. Those times when I read a great book—spiritual or otherwise— or good poetry, I felt a high, a longing to be and do better. It was after reading those books, poems, folksongs, that I nosedived into depression and Jack Daniels. Those books lifted me up, inspired me, told me what I could be (should be) but then the reality of my dis-ease set in and I just knew I was lying to myself, I could not be like that, I was stupid, I was different in a negative sense, I did not belong in that company much as my heart craved for it.

Bad as the years of active drinking were, the years of a dry drunk were worse. Working the program to please others, doing what I had to do to look good just tied me in knots. Something had to give—a spiritual awakening or return to my friends in the bottle.

Thanks be to my Higher Power, my God, that the spiritual awakening opened those doors for me as it does for all of us. As the advertisement jingle says, “I can see clearly now.” And yes, I knew I had to redo the steps and, this time, with a deep honesty to myself, god, and another human being.

"It is the central urge in every atom, (Often unconscious, often evil, downfallen) To return to its divine source and origin, however distant…" When I first walked a Labyrinth, I understood it to be not unlike my life. There were times, even days, when I felt close to God, to my spiritual roots, and just as quickly I was far from the center.

“Séamus," said one of the men who sponsored me (I didn’t need one) "just because you’re not drinking doesn’t mean you’re sober. You’ve got a lot of work to do on yourself. You need to deflate that ego of yours before you can do any work on yourself or hear what we have to say.”

I couldn’t tell him “I want what you have.” I was afraid that that would make me sound weak. Step one was reasonably easy once I understood the meaning of “unmanageability.” Steps two and three were no real problem. Step four was where I found myself “at the turning point. Half measures availed us nothing.” I’d done this step a couple of times while sharing nothing of importance.

The urge to return to my divine source and origin, while I would not have stated it that way at the time, was an urge to come clean, to be cleansed, to become the Prodigal Son and come home and ask for forgiveness.

With the remaining steps the slate was cleansed, behavior and attitudes changed, I was in familiar territory in spirituality as I was in seminary before I met John Jameison (The Catholic whiskey in Ireland).

Having had a spiritual awakening as THE result of working these steps I became alive, I felt comfortable being back in my spiritual skin and with the source of my being. God, my Higher Power, was now my guide and from whom I would ask “Abba, where do we go from here?” “Abba, what is your will for me today?”

I am no saint as yet. My ego has to be kept in check, and I still have to bite my tongue at times, but I am at peace just being on this journey to perfection and with, as St Paul says, “a great cloud of witnesses” who help each other to come back home where, as Jesus said, “The kingdom of God is within you.” 

Séamus D.
Séamus D. is a long-time friend of Bill W, and a semi-retired Episcopal priest in the New Orleans diocese.