The book Alcoholics Anonymous claims that an alcoholic is like a man who has lost his legs; legs which cannot and will not ever grow back. This was painful news to me. Like many addicts, I genuinely believed that a return to the lifestyle I remembered was possible, but without any of the negative aspects. Being told that my future would never truly resemble my past was hard to hear.

Now, with the benefit of lengthy sobriety, I recognize my old life has not returned. Nor could it. I have changed the basis of my life to include the daily influence of a Higher Power. If you removed everything else about me, that fact would remain at my very core.

As I reflected on the first tradition of A.A., it had idealistic ring to it: "Our common welfare should come first; personal recovery depends on A.A. unity." In it, I thought I heard resonance of the Three Musketeers cheer that went, "All for one and one for all!" But I think those fictional swordsmen were fighting against outside enemies. Speaking for myself, my only enemy in addiction was myself.

I looked up the definition in Webster's 1934 Dictionary: Welfare n. State of faring, or doing, well (in such a manner as is desirable or pleasing). That seemed pretty vague. Welfare basically means faring well? Seriously?

To compose a meaningful drawing, I made a special effort to clear my mind. I attempted to picture how a group could support any individual's recovery. I thought about the sturdy stone columns that once supported ancient buildings. Most have since fallen, but many of them are still standing even after thousands of years.

The trouble is, a column is just one single thing, cut from a huge block of stone. Recovery seems more like an interweaving of many experiences, stories, beliefs, and actions. Were all of those woven parts mere decorations? I don't think so. They seemed very essential to the recovery program's strength.

It is an almost painful thing to admit. But my moral core was dissolved by addiction. It was once there, but it vanished in the day-to-day descent into my sickness.

My recovery group showed me a way I could be held in place as my body, emotions, and spirit began to heal. It's strange. I could not get back my original solid core, any more than a man can regrow his lost legs. But my sobriety could be held upright by the process of coming to meetings, working the steps, and using sponsorship. Those things felt weak at first, but they became stronger every day that I relied on them.

Just like in my drawing, what I had once relied upon for strength has been replaced by something completely new and very different. I have become one of many parts of the Twelve Step recovery experience. Each one of us provides experience, strength, and hope for others. This unity becomes a firm support for our personal recovery.

The 1934 definitions of some words surprised me, but not this one. Now, as then, a person with a conscience knows when something is not right. They won't take things that don't belong to them and they refuse to say things that are not true. 

The second tradition urges groups rely on their collective conscience so that their decisions might be guided by a Higher Power. I have been in many Twelve Step meetings where this request baffled people. "What is a group conscience?", they ask, "How is that different from an individual's conscience?"

It's a fair question.

I thought about it as I created this drawing. It shows a baby who has been left outside the door of a church or charity. No one has ever asked me why the baby is there. It's fairly obvious that somebody cares about the infant, but does not feel capable of raising it themselves. Although it is a poignant scene, it has been played out in reality over and over.

Unfortunately, the small child has not been found yet. The door remains closed. Darkness has fallen. The mother is nowhere to be seen. Only a dog remains nearby. It is not threatening the baby. Even though the adult has left, the dog remains standing guard until the danger is gone.

Why? Because it is right. That's something even a family pet can figure out.

In a group conscience, I adopt the same attitude. I don't always understand everything that's discussed. I do remain aware of right or wrong within myself. When I do that, things usually work out for the best.

You join a Twelve Step group by desiring to stop drinking. Others might claim there are more conditions and expectations than that. However, the Third Tradition explicitly states: "The only requirement for A.A. membership is a desire to stop drinking." That principle extends to other groups which are based on particular things other than drinking alcohol.

My personal experience tells me there's not much else that recovery people have in common. Things like age, gender, race, income, education, politics, etc. don't affect whether you have a problem and want a solution. I tried to reflect that in my drawing. 

I realized that people used to wear hats more often back in the 1930s. Both men and women wore them as a part of their formal and informal attire. Plus, certain workers wore distinctive styles of hats, such as police officers, milk delivery people, cab drivers and bus drivers.

I imagined a Twelve Step meeting in the late 1930s and in the years that followed. Then, as now, people came into recovery from all walks of life. I myself has sponsored a teacher, doctor, airline pilot, salesman, computer programmer, band director, musician, and countless other kinds of people.

We all belong and no one will challenge it, so long as we desire to stop.