December 13 - The Hardest Part of AA
Buried in Working With Others, Bill slips in a line so quietly it’s easy to miss: “Put yourself in the other man’s place.” No buildup. No explanation. Just that. And it might be the hardest suggestion in the entire Big Book.
Because that’s not sympathy or surface-level empathy. That’s a full stop on my self-centered way of thinking. It means I stop asking, Why doesn’t he get this? and start asking, What does this look like from inside his head? What is he afraid of? What is he protecting? What does he misunderstand? His fears, his obstinacy, his confusion, his agnosticism — the whole package.
That doesn’t come naturally to me. My default is judgment dressed up as concern. I want people to see things clearly, which usually means seeing them my way. Bill doesn’t tell me to fix the man. He tells me to stand where he’s standing.
That’s the move out of self and into others. And here’s the strange payoff: in the brief moments I actually try to do this, something loosens. I feel lighter. Less bound up. The bondage of self eases, not because I was right, but because I stopped making everything about me.
This practice doesn’t stay in AA. It spills into daily life — family, work, strangers, everyone who rubs me the wrong way. It’s hard. It’s uncomfortable. And it’s absolutely worth it.
When was the last time you realized you never really tried seeing a situation from the other person’s side?
December 13 - The Hardest Part of AA
Buried in Working With Others, Bill slips in a line so quietly it’s easy to miss: “Put yourself in the other man’s place.” No buildup. No explanation. Just that. And it might be the hardest suggestion in the entire Big Book.
Because that’s not sympathy or surface-level empathy. That’s a full stop on my self-centered way of thinking. It means I stop asking, Why doesn’t he get this? and start asking, What does this look like from inside his head? What is he afraid of? What is he protecting? What does he misunderstand? His fears, his obstinacy, his confusion, his agnosticism — the whole package.
That doesn’t come naturally to me. My default is judgment dressed up as concern. I want people to see things clearly, which usually means seeing them my way. Bill doesn’t tell me to fix the man. He tells me to stand where he’s standing.
That’s the move out of self and into others. And here’s the strange payoff: in the brief moments I actually try to do this, something loosens. I feel lighter. Less bound up. The bondage of self eases, not because I was right, but because I stopped making everything about me.
This practice doesn’t stay in AA. It spills into daily life — family, work, strangers, everyone who rubs me the wrong way. It’s hard. It’s uncomfortable. And it’s absolutely worth it.
When was the last time you realized you never really tried seeing a situation from the other person’s side?
December 13 - The Hardest Part of AA
Buried in Working With Others, Bill slips in a line so quietly it’s easy to miss: “Put yourself in the other man’s place.” No buildup. No explanation. Just that. And it might be the hardest suggestion in the entire Big Book.
Because that’s not sympathy or surface-level empathy. That’s a full stop on my self-centered way of thinking. It means I stop asking, Why doesn’t he get this? and start asking, What does this look like from inside his head? What is he afraid of? What is he protecting? What does he misunderstand? His fears, his obstinacy, his confusion, his agnosticism — the whole package.
That doesn’t come naturally to me. My default is judgment dressed up as concern. I want people to see things clearly, which usually means seeing them my way. Bill doesn’t tell me to fix the man. He tells me to stand where he’s standing.
That’s the move out of self and into others. And here’s the strange payoff: in the brief moments I actually try to do this, something loosens. I feel lighter. Less bound up. The bondage of self eases, not because I was right, but because I stopped making everything about me.
This practice doesn’t stay in AA. It spills into daily life — family, work, strangers, everyone who rubs me the wrong way. It’s hard. It’s uncomfortable. And it’s absolutely worth it.
When was the last time you realized you never really tried seeing a situation from the other person’s side?
December 13 - The Hardest Part of AA
Buried in Working With Others, Bill slips in a line so quietly it’s easy to miss: “Put yourself in the other man’s place.” No buildup. No explanation. Just that. And it might be the hardest suggestion in the entire Big Book.
Because that’s not sympathy or surface-level empathy. That’s a full stop on my self-centered way of thinking. It means I stop asking, Why doesn’t he get this? and start asking, What does this look like from inside his head? What is he afraid of? What is he protecting? What does he misunderstand? His fears, his obstinacy, his confusion, his agnosticism — the whole package.
That doesn’t come naturally to me. My default is judgment dressed up as concern. I want people to see things clearly, which usually means seeing them my way. Bill doesn’t tell me to fix the man. He tells me to stand where he’s standing.
That’s the move out of self and into others. And here’s the strange payoff: in the brief moments I actually try to do this, something loosens. I feel lighter. Less bound up. The bondage of self eases, not because I was right, but because I stopped making everything about me.
This practice doesn’t stay in AA. It spills into daily life — family, work, strangers, everyone who rubs me the wrong way. It’s hard. It’s uncomfortable. And it’s absolutely worth it.
When was the last time you realized you never really tried seeing a situation from the other person’s side?
December 13 - The Hardest Part of AA
Buried in Working With Others, Bill slips in a line so quietly it’s easy to miss: “Put yourself in the other man’s place.” No buildup. No explanation. Just that. And it might be the hardest suggestion in the entire Big Book.
Because that’s not sympathy or surface-level empathy. That’s a full stop on my self-centered way of thinking. It means I stop asking, Why doesn’t he get this? and start asking, What does this look like from inside his head? What is he afraid of? What is he protecting? What does he misunderstand? His fears, his obstinacy, his confusion, his agnosticism — the whole package.
That doesn’t come naturally to me. My default is judgment dressed up as concern. I want people to see things clearly, which usually means seeing them my way. Bill doesn’t tell me to fix the man. He tells me to stand where he’s standing.
That’s the move out of self and into others. And here’s the strange payoff: in the brief moments I actually try to do this, something loosens. I feel lighter. Less bound up. The bondage of self eases, not because I was right, but because I stopped making everything about me.
This practice doesn’t stay in AA. It spills into daily life — family, work, strangers, everyone who rubs me the wrong way. It’s hard. It’s uncomfortable. And it’s absolutely worth it.
When was the last time you realized you never really tried seeing a situation from the other person’s side?
December 13 - The Hardest Part of AA
Buried in Working With Others, Bill slips in a line so quietly it’s easy to miss: “Put yourself in the other man’s place.” No buildup. No explanation. Just that. And it might be the hardest suggestion in the entire Big Book.
Because that’s not sympathy or surface-level empathy. That’s a full stop on my self-centered way of thinking. It means I stop asking, Why doesn’t he get this? and start asking, What does this look like from inside his head? What is he afraid of? What is he protecting? What does he misunderstand? His fears, his obstinacy, his confusion, his agnosticism — the whole package.
That doesn’t come naturally to me. My default is judgment dressed up as concern. I want people to see things clearly, which usually means seeing them my way. Bill doesn’t tell me to fix the man. He tells me to stand where he’s standing.
That’s the move out of self and into others. And here’s the strange payoff: in the brief moments I actually try to do this, something loosens. I feel lighter. Less bound up. The bondage of self eases, not because I was right, but because I stopped making everything about me.
This practice doesn’t stay in AA. It spills into daily life — family, work, strangers, everyone who rubs me the wrong way. It’s hard. It’s uncomfortable. And it’s absolutely worth it.
When was the last time you realized you never really tried seeing a situation from the other person’s side?
December 13 - The Hardest Part of AA
Buried in Working With Others, Bill slips in a line so quietly it’s easy to miss: “Put yourself in the other man’s place.” No buildup. No explanation. Just that. And it might be the hardest suggestion in the entire Big Book.
Because that’s not sympathy or surface-level empathy. That’s a full stop on my self-centered way of thinking. It means I stop asking, Why doesn’t he get this? and start asking, What does this look like from inside his head? What is he afraid of? What is he protecting? What does he misunderstand? His fears, his obstinacy, his confusion, his agnosticism — the whole package.
That doesn’t come naturally to me. My default is judgment dressed up as concern. I want people to see things clearly, which usually means seeing them my way. Bill doesn’t tell me to fix the man. He tells me to stand where he’s standing.
That’s the move out of self and into others. And here’s the strange payoff: in the brief moments I actually try to do this, something loosens. I feel lighter. Less bound up. The bondage of self eases, not because I was right, but because I stopped making everything about me.
This practice doesn’t stay in AA. It spills into daily life — family, work, strangers, everyone who rubs me the wrong way. It’s hard. It’s uncomfortable. And it’s absolutely worth it.
When was the last time you realized you never really tried seeing a situation from the other person’s side?
December 13 - The Hardest Part of AA
Buried in Working With Others, Bill slips in a line so quietly it’s easy to miss: “Put yourself in the other man’s place.” No buildup. No explanation. Just that. And it might be the hardest suggestion in the entire Big Book.
Because that’s not sympathy or surface-level empathy. That’s a full stop on my self-centered way of thinking. It means I stop asking, Why doesn’t he get this? and start asking, What does this look like from inside his head? What is he afraid of? What is he protecting? What does he misunderstand? His fears, his obstinacy, his confusion, his agnosticism — the whole package.
That doesn’t come naturally to me. My default is judgment dressed up as concern. I want people to see things clearly, which usually means seeing them my way. Bill doesn’t tell me to fix the man. He tells me to stand where he’s standing.
That’s the move out of self and into others. And here’s the strange payoff: in the brief moments I actually try to do this, something loosens. I feel lighter. Less bound up. The bondage of self eases, not because I was right, but because I stopped making everything about me.
This practice doesn’t stay in AA. It spills into daily life — family, work, strangers, everyone who rubs me the wrong way. It’s hard. It’s uncomfortable. And it’s absolutely worth it.
When was the last time you realized you never really tried seeing a situation from the other person’s side?
