In his book, Recovery—The Sacred Art: The Twelve Steps as Spiritual Practice, Rami Shapiro writes: “When you see yourself in hurtful behavior “snap the photograph” freeze that action, and look at it. Literally stop for a moment and take in what you are doing. The “photograph” captures the pain, shock, or hurt on the other’s face or in her body language, and you can look at it objectively… and this moment is your opportunity to do something different, beginning with making amends.”

“You don’t remember doing that. You scared the life out of us.” I sat there with my stomach churning. A few years earlier this would have been an occasion for a drink. But now, thanks to the program, I was learning how my attitude and behavior affected others.

Shapiro’s idea of taking a picture of the other at the time we are inappropriate is a wonderful idea. It gives me an ‘on the spot’ look at what my attitudes and behavior is doing to another. Looking through that lens I see a person with a look of concern, a look of bewilderment; a look of pain and hurt; and I understand that I am the cause of that expression. It is in seeing this more clearly, I now know I have to make amends promptly.

This is a program based on progress not perfection. Early in the program I continued to say and do things which I should not have said or done and which I regretted. I justified my behavior as I was not yet living the program and barely working the steps.

With recovery, reading the big book, the 12X12, talking to a sponsor and others in recovery, going to meetings and listening to others, I finally got the message that there is much more to sobriety than not drinking. Sobriety is a way of life and that meant changing my attitudes and behavior.

In order to change I had to gather evidence of my behavior. Taking in that mental picture of the concern, the fear, the pain, of the other was not an easy thing to do.  I did not like looking at the concern, the fear, the pain I was causing another just because I wanted things to go my way. Looking at a picture of the negative result of my negative attitude and behavior was painful and I did not need a trigger to another drink. Amends is the cure.

As I slowly made progress, I realized I was taking fewer and fewer pictures. I had gotten tired not only of taking them, but also of remembering them. “That was what I did to …” I had to remind myself. Those pictures which stayed with me were the evidence I needed that I had to make change. Those pictures were the catalyst for the change.

One of the joys of recovery is taking fewer and fewer pictures of what I do to others because the program has taught me to be a better human being, to be the person I was born to be and become. As I grew into the program, I came to realize that my annual “chip” was my camera. Holding that chip in my pocket, silently reciting the serenity prayer, I changed my attitude about the situation in which I found myself and about which I would otherwise have had a lot to say.

Promptly making amends is like developing a picture. At first its blurry, then it comes into focus and then there it is in black and white or full color and it can’t be denied. It reminds me of Monday mornings when individuals arrived at the court house demanding justice for being wrongly stopped, that they were not drinking. Then they sit and watch the video with their lawyer and there is silence. They don’t have to say anything – except- yes sir, that’s me.

I still have to make amends. I am not nor will I be perfect. However, progress in this daily program has taught me to, as the children at taught at school, Stop, Look, listen. Stop my mouth, look at the other, listen to what my gut and my mind is telling me “Be quiet; It’s not the end of the world;  It’s no big deal; This too shall pass.” But, when my ego overrides my brain then I have to develop the picture, take a look at the pain and concern I caused – however slight – and make amends and go on living one day at a time.

Séamus D
New Orleans