The Transformation of Steps Six and Seven

Even though Steps Six and Seven are sometimes called the forgotten Steps because so little has been written about them, they may be among the most crucial of all the Twelve Steps. When we work them—or, more accurately, when we let them work on us—we make a fundamental and all-important change. We move from a reliance on self-direction to a reliance on spiritual direction.

In working these Steps, we admit that we can’t recover on our own; we have to ask for help from a Higher Power. And we don’t ask for this help in a way that suggests we don’t have to change. Instead we say, I know I’m going to have to change, and I can’t do that on my own—I need a power greater than self to make that happen.

As many people discover, this transformation isn’t something that happens only to those of us in recovery. It is one of the most crucial actions any human being can take to live a truly meaningful life: a life of service.

When many of us worked Steps Six and Seven for the first time, we felt great relief and release. We let go of a great burden that had weighed us down for years. We crossed a threshold that led to hope and healing—and the possibility of a new life.

Then Steps Eight and Nine helped us move into that new life by removing the weight of our harms to others and bringing us to the realization that our Higher Power “is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.” Now, as we work Step Ten, we see that it makes our new life sustainable. Step Ten is the ongoing practice of Steps Four through Nine, with an emphasis on Six and Seven.

Step Ten: Not a Threshold, but a Way of Being

Steps Six and Seven are at the numerical center of the Twelve Steps. The first six focus on the past, while the commitment we make to allow change in Step Seven begins to move us forward on the Road of Happy Destiny.

Steps Six and Seven also form the fulcrum of the core action steps, Four though Nine. They enable us to shift from what was to what will be.

The Big Book’s two paragraphs on these Steps refer to two key elements: an essential attitude, willingness, and the time frame for living into that attitude: now.

But now is not a one-time event. The time is always now. Think of Step Ten: “Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.” That means willingly practicing Steps Four through Nine again and again, moment by moment, one day at a time.

As part of Step Ten, we do regular moral inventories—as well as an on-the-spot inventory whenever we feel we might have harmed someone. If we have in fact caused harm, we make things right with the affected people, with our Higher Power, and with ourselves as soon as we can.

I’ve already mentioned Joe and Charlie, the old-timers who led highly regarded Big Book workshops across the country for many years and who published a book version of those workshops, A Program for You. They had a tremendous influence on my understanding of the Big Book—especially regarding the importance of working the Steps in order. Joe and Charlie suggest that we view Step Six as a guide to no longer doing what we want to do, and Step Seven as a guide to doing what we don’t (yet) want to do, but know we need to. Or to put it another way, in Step Six we abandon what’s no longer of use to us; in Step Seven we vow to do what will be useful to us and others.

Now, as we work Step Ten, we stop caring so much about what we want and don’t want to do. We drop our focus on ourselves and make an ongoing commitment to do what is sane and loving and responsible, over and over. We focus on being fully present and preparing for a life of service that we commit to in Step Twelve. We bring the spiritual essence of the Program, which is embodied in Steps Six and Seven, to each circumstance we encounter.

Step Ten provides a doorway—a new dimension—for working Steps Six and Seven more deeply and profoundly. Over time, we discover that Step Ten is the key to long-term sobriety.

Bonita: Working Step Ten on the way to Reno

          I was a serious meth user for several years in my teens. Fortunately, by age seventeen I knew I had to choose between sobriety and an early death. I started going to meetings in eleventh grade, and I’ve been clean and sober now for more than eight years. I’ve got a wonderful partner and a great career, and I’m endlessly grateful to the Program, my sponsors, and all the others who have helped and supported me.

                My job involves a lot of traveling. A few months ago, for the first time, I had to drive through Nevada. I stopped for lunch at a hotel restaurant in Reno, and afterward I put about ten bucks into the slots and won 180 dollars. I thought, Great. That will cover lunch and the next payment on my college loan.

                Two days later, driving back home, I stopped for dinner at the same hotel. Afterward, I did the same thing—put about fifteen dollars into the slots. And again I won—about 90 bucks. It felt good.

                A few weeks later, I had to make the same trip again. By the time I crossed the Nevada state line, I was thinking about stopping at the same hotel and playing the slots again. I noticed that I was feeling some serious excitement and euphoria and anticipation.

                I shook it off and played some tunes on my phone. But the fantasy of pulling the handle and winning big returned. Only this time I got so lost in it that I almost sideswiped somebody in the next lane. That’s when I knew it was time for a Step Ten.

                I looked at the driver in the next lane, who was giving me the finger. I mouthed “I’m sorry” and slapped my head. He nodded, put his hand down, and pulled away.

                I stopped at the next roadside restaurant. I sat down with a coffee and silently prayed for help. Even though I’d never had an issue with gambling before—the most I’d done was buy a lottery ticket now and then—I knew I was in trouble.

                The solution came to me before I finished my coffee. I bought a sandwich to go, ate it in the car an hour later, and drove straight through Reno and across the Nevada border, stopping only to use the ladies’ room.

The everyday practice of Step Ten is clearly described on page 84 of the Big Book: Continue to watch for selfishness, dishonesty, resentment and fear (Step Four). When these crop up, we ask God at once to remove them (Steps Six and Seven). Those last eight words contain the essence of Steps Six and Seven.

The directions for Step Ten continue, We share them with someone immediately (Step Five) and make amends quickly if we have harmed anyone (Steps Eight and Nine). Thus, in just a few sentences, the Big Book’s Step Ten directions clearly lay out the practices of Steps Four through Nine—now applied to what arises in the moment, and to the conditions of everyday life.

As we live according to the wisdom of Step Ten, we continue to spot and respond to our wrongs, shortcomings, and character defects. Over time, we tend to spot ever-smaller ones—partly because we have now addressed the larger ones, partly because we’ve become more attuned to spotting things as they pop up. We see things that we might not even have called wrongs or shortcomings or character defects a few years ago. Once we’ve gotten rid of the biggest rocks, we can begin to see and feel the smaller ones.

In the story about Mary and Ramon, each swimmer drops a single large rock and immediately begins to lead a less burdened life. That’s an accurate description of most people’s first Step Six and Step Seven. But many of us feel like we need to keep dropping rocks every day. And they’re not always little rocks—sometimes they’re huge. On some days, we have to drop multiple rocks. And sometimes the rock we dropped days or months or years ago shows up again, and we have to drop it once more—in some cases, multiple times.

That’s why Step Ten is so helpful—and so vital.

Larry: Momentum lost can be regained

          Last year I fulfilled a dream I’ve had since I was a boy—I began singing in an Anglican choir. For eight months, it was one of the most fulfilling things I’d ever done.

                I live out in the country, and my church is in the city, about forty-five miles away. This meant driving ninety miles on Wednesday nights and Saturday afternoons for rehearsals—and, of course, on Sunday mornings and high holidays.

                I’ve been in recovery over eleven years. I know that I’m still powerless over alcohol, but I no longer want to drink. Alcohol and a self-centered life nearly destroyed me and my family. I go to two meetings a week and haven’t missed one in years.

                But I did miss a Wednesday night choir rehearsal. I came down with a stomach bug, so I called the choir director and she agreed that the best thing was for me to stay home.

                I went to Saturday rehearsal as usual, but on Sunday our car didn’t start, so I missed church. Then, three days later, our water heater sprang a serious leak a few minutes before it was time to leave for the city. By the time I had everything cleaned up, I knew I’d arrive shortly before rehearsal ended, so I stayed home.

                After that, my momentum was gone. When Saturday morning came, I was surprisingly resistant. All I could think about was the ninety-mile trip and how long and tedious it would be. I really didn’t want to go—even though I still really enjoyed singing. I found myself thinking, Maybe I should quit the choir.

                Something about that thought made me stop and examine it. Its tone was vaguely familiar. After a minute or two, I recognized the voice. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in years. It was the voice that had said, early in my recovery, Maybe you should quit the Program. Go have a drink instead.

                That’s when I realized that sustained momentum is part of what drives recovery. And Step Ten is partly about sustaining momentum. I threw myself into the car and started driving to church.

                I made sure to get to every one of the next several rehearsals, and kept checking myself daily to see if my momentum had returned. It took a few weeks, but eventually it did.

                I thank God that, over the last eleven years, I never lost my momentum in going to meetings or practicing the Steps.

When we first practiced Steps Six and Seven wholeheartedly, they transformed us.

Step Six followed us from our past. It helped us to honestly see our limitations and our humanness. It enabled us look at where we didn’t want to go—but knew we needed to.

Step Seven led us into the future, into a new way of being in the world. It shifted our perspective from our rear view mirror to the open road before us.

Step Ten uses Steps Six and Seven to ground us in the present—where our human-ness and our being-ness come together.

As we practice Step Ten, day by day and moment by moment, it continuously transforms us and all our relationships. We move from establishing a relationship with our Higher Power to experiencing that Power in all our relationships. We move from hearing each Step resonate in our head to feeling it in our guts, bones, and blood. We move from learning the Steps to living them.

Most of all, we move from a focus on our own growth and transformation to a focus on how our behavior affects others. This change in focus is what I call the Ripple Effect.