"When we retire at night, we constructively review our day. Were we resentful, selfish, dishonest or afraid? Do we owe an apology? Have we kept something to ourselves which should be discussed with another person at once? Were we kind and loving toward all? What could we have done better? Were we thinking of ourselves most of the time? Or were we thinking of what we could do for others, of what we could pack into the stream of life? But we must be careful not to drift into worry, remorse or morbid reflection, for that would diminish our usefulness to others. After making our review we ask God's forgiveness and inquire what corrective measures should be taken."
Each one of these questions warrants a post in its own right! But not today.
As with most of "the program", step eleven is a step of action and this is an obvious set of instructions and an obivious followup and extension to step ten.
I must admit that I do not follow this set of instructions rigorously!
There are two reasons why I wish I would.
The first is that the practice is always rewarding, even if it is at times harrowing. To be fair it is, as per step ten, something which has, over time, become integrated into my being - I just do it without thinking. That said, a formal review, along with a quiet request for assistance, cannot hurt.
The second, and the one that I need to be reminded of by reading this passage is:
"....we must be careful not to drift into worry, remorse or morbid reflection...."
This can be a slippery statement for me: What's the difference between "morbid reflection" and "constructive review"? It's easy for me to get stuck in the rut of "analysis paralysis", and risk wallowing in my muck, but then, I can easily run away from review too.
I mentioned in an earlier post that I avoided AA because I had the view that AAers used "God as an anaesthetic." This is one of those statements where I risk this too, although in this case it's the words, not the principle of this step, that I'd be hiding behind.
"Oh no, no, no. I better not review that particular encounter because all I'm doing is morbidly reflecting"
"Hah!" is often the appropriate response, or perhaps at times a more gentle "Well perhaps you could look a little closer just to see where your part in it is." would suffice.
That said, sometimes it's not immediately obvious to me on the day something happens just what has happened. My experience is that it will surface eventually.
The allocation of a space at the end of my day gives it more of a chance to surface when it's ready.
