Thursday: Wax on Wax off


Our book is meant to be suggestive only, we realize we know only a little.


It was said tonight that back in the early days of The Book being published, there weren’t very many options of how one was going to get sober. And I know, from stories told to me, about people who got sober way back when, told to them by other people who got sober WAY WAY back then, for some, all they had was the book.

And they got sober.

Bob talked about a woman in Iowa, from the early years, whose husband was a drinker. And she wrote to New York for the book. That wife, received the book, and read it herself, so she knew what was in the book.

Then she left it out for her husband to find, he eventually got sober.

When it comes down to brass tacks, if you follow what the book says, and you finally surrender yourself to (A power greater than yourself) and you do what the book says, you too will get sober, despite yourself.

I heard it said tonight that for our man, suggestions were not his favorite. After several drunk tanks, rehabs, JAIL, and Detox, he had that “Mirror Moment” in the McDonald’s restaurant bathroom, right up the street from my home.

God, as we understand him … The book calls it “The Great Spirit of the Universe.”

You can read all about that Great Spirit of the Universe RIGHT UP at the TOP of this blog.


In today’s world who wants to follow suggestions ? People can do whatever they think they need to do, but follow suggestions ? No Not For Me …

Our man took our suggestions and saw them as a few simple rules. And that worked for him. What did they tell him ?

Well, for starters, he had to get to meetings. Then he should shake a few hands. Then learn to make coffee, and set out tables and chairs …


When Daniel-san wanted to learn karate, Mr. Miyagi told him to wax the car. Wax on Wax off. He did that grudgingly. After a while of waxing that car, Mr. Miyagi told him to paint the fence. UGH, really, is that what you want me to do ?

Yes, Wax on Wax off. Paint the fence, Up Down…

All Daniel-san wanted was to learn Karate. What he did not know, was that the lessons of waxing and painting WERE crucial teachings of primary Karate.

Why do we do these stupid simple, innocuous jobs, daily, nightly, weekly, monthly and yearly ? Because in doing these simple things, it comes as no surprise, that yes, you too will get sober.

This is a Spiritual Program. The book does not mince words. If you read this book, and you find yourself within its pages, and you believe, you are one of us, then we have a solution that will work for you too.

The prayers in the book have purpose. Logic. And Truth.

You cannot find it, or keep it. Until you learn about IT, and you realize what IT is. And then, you work steps, diligently and honestly, and THOROUGHLY, then you can give it away.

And the Spiritual Principles of Searching and Being Found. Seeking and Finding. Being part of and finding ones self within a group, you get to give it away.

Everything that we do, every day, ROTE, Over and Over, brings us to the same place.

To a room. With others like us. sharing, talking, making coffee, LISTENING.

The lessons of the book come full circle, when we make what is within the book, OURS. And then we learn how to change. To become who we are meant to be. That psychic change begins to happen for you.

And if you follow the book, to the letter, You Too Can Change.

And your life will never be the same.




Khaled Ansari was waiting for me in our chartered cab, fifty meters away. He sat in the back, with both doors opened for the breeze. I wasn’t late, and he couldn’t have been waiting more than fifteen or twenty minutes, but still there were ten cigarette butts on the ground beside the open door of the cab. Each one of them, I knew, was an enemy crushed under his heel, a violent wish, a brutal fantasy of the suffering he would one day inflict on those he hated.

And they were many, the ones he hated. Too many. The images of violence that filled his mind were so real, he’d told me, that sometimes he was nauseous with it. The anger was an ache in his bones. The hatred locked in his jaws, and made him grind his teeth on the fury. The taste of it was bitter, always, all day and night, every waking minute, as bitter as the taste of the blackened knife he clamped between his teeth, as a Fatah guerilla, when he crawled across broken ground toward his first kill.

‘It’s gonna kill you, Khaled, you know’

‘So I smoke too much. So what the fuck. Who wants to live forever?’

‘I’m not talking about the cigarettes. I’m talking about what’s inside you, making you chain-smoke them. I’m talking about what you’re doing to yourself by hating the world.

Someone told me once that if you make your heart into a weapon, you always end up using it on yourself.’