Tradition 12: Anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our Traditions, every reminding us to place principles above personalities.

 "The key phrases in Tradition Twelve are anonymity, spiritual foundation and principles above personalities" (Alanon Paths to Recovery p. 235) The AA 12x12 (p. 184) states, "The spiritual substance of anonymity is sacrifice," the giving up of "personal desires for the common good." Originally anonymous based on fears related to the stigma of alcoholism, anonymity expanded to refer to the effort to "give up our natural desires for personal distinction."  I don't think of myself as someone who craves "personal distinction" but I am fairly attached to my identity - as a sober woman, a wife, a family member, a friend, a writer, a traveler, a runner. A huge component of recovery has been in the discovery of that identity, much needed. But now, as an elder, how can I deepen my understanding and practice of anonymity as a spiritual journey. Yes, I am the wife, co-worker, etc etc etc, but those are roles, descriptions.  

I confess that I tend to mentally check out when the meeting topic is a Tradition, but in a recent discussion of Twelve, I was riveted as members shared about anonymity as a gateway to discovering our personal identity, free of labels, free of the stories we tell ourselves about who we are or who we should be. Being in a place of life transition, I'm very conscious that my external identity is shifting. Who will I be, and what might change as I leave my career?  

When I first got to program, I defined myself by who I was sleeping with, my very existence dependent on attachment to someone else. Later, I probably over-identified with my history of growing up in a home with alcoholism, and all that I felt was missing. I also claimed identity by my own "war stories," attending an Alanon meeting and pulling down my sleeves to cover scars from the needle, then in a NA meeting, pushing the sleeves up so others would see I belonged. AA was a mystery - I knew I was alcoholic (no doubt whatsoever) but it was a particular substance that brought me to my knees. How was I to talk about that? (I learned, over time, that it wasn’t the details that mattered, but the place of “pitiful, incomprehensible demoralization” that we all know too well). And then, though I've never been one to talk openly about my work in meetings, my career has been a big component of how I present in the world. 

The spiritual concept of anonymity asks me to bring all that external energy of “what-will-you-think-of-me?”,  "who am I supposed to be?" and my various labels, back to my heart. Remove my name, my evolving versions of family history, my career, where I grew up and live, and what is my true nature? The designations and experiences certainly contribute to my sense of self, but when it is just me, on the couch with my journal and a cup of tea, do I drop the story and stay true to myself? When a friend wants to talk, or just hang out, do I drop the story in order to be truly present? How well do I listen? How well do I show up, even if that is virtually these days?

The concept of anonymity encourages me to discover my truth, sometimes through trial and error, knowing that what's true today might not be next week or next month - it's a matter of paying attention to my inner compass and steering back towards center when I feel myself off course. A benefit of long term recovery is that I recognize that “off-course-ness” quicker, but I'm certainly not finished with the growth called for in the Steps. I am not a believer in "one and done." For me, the Steps (and Traditions) provide an on-going path for deepening my connection to my spiritual resources. I do sometimes coast, but this year, especially, has been a time of deep breaths and deeper writing as I've navigated my husband's illness and recovery, my ex's passing, the pandemic, the horrific event in Minneapolis last week and the on-going demonstrations,  and yes, the ending of my career. The stay-home-stay-safe orders play into my introversion. I'm excellent with pen-to-paper, and the "we" of the program matters. I can learn from Tradition Twelve while remembering that anonymity doesn't mean alone.

This post feels a little disconnected, but that's how I've been feeling, crying at the grocery store as the clerk tells me about her daughter dying, crying as the television shows both the horrors of hatred and violence and the beauty of kindness. It has been tougher to stay in my place of centered calm when it feels like the world is in chaos. Like many of us, I am heartbroken, on many levels. I so want humanity to be better than we too often are. I will not presume to have answers, but will continue my internal striving towards peace and hope, in the belief that the energy I generate impacts those in my sphere and beyond. We are all connected.

NOTE: “I’ve Been Sober a Long Time – Now What? A workbook for the Joys & Challenges of Long Term Recovery” is a 78 page workbook, 8 ½ x11 format, with topics (such as grief, aging, sponsorship) that include a member’s view and processing questions. Available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 N.E. 20th or online through this blog page. If you would like to purchase online, you will need to go to the WEB VERSION of this page to view the link to PayPal or Credit Card option.   Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com if you’d like more information