The Wood Carver

 

   My father was a wood carver. He carved ducks out of wood. Like Michelangelo searching for the block of marble that contained the statue he would sculpt, in a block of wood, my father searched for a duck. He had the right tools. He was motivated. He was inspired.

    For years I never had a reason to quit drinking and by the time I had a reason to quit, reason no longer had anything to do with it. I drank for escape and I ended up being unable to escape from drinking.

    Now, years sober, I have found many of the tools of recovery. There are those who　have inspired me, motivated me. Slowly, patiently, I must carve the frustration, self-pity and despair out of this block of wood. Carve out the envy, anxiety and intolerance. File down the burrs of hatred, jealousy and resentment. Chisel out the suspicion and sarcasm, the mistrust. Get rid of the apathy, the remorse, the self-deception. Cast out the doubt, the blame, the fear. Scrape out contempt and cynicism. Smooth out the rough edges.
　
A.A. has given me the tools. There are those who　have motivated me,　inspired me.
Someday I hope to walk and to talk like a duck. And I pray that I will float.
Drinking kicks you down the steps. The Twelve Steps lift you up.

    Now, let’s go fishin’!


from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Chapter 78)