Step by step

marking milestones on my spiritual journey

Photo by Patrick Hendry on Unsplash

I have gone forward, not as one travelling in a road cast up and well prepared, but as one walking through a miry place, in which there are stones here and there, safe to step on, but so situated that one step being taken, time is necessary to see where to step next. John Woolman

John Woolman, an eighteenth century American Quaker, wrote these words to sum up his spiritual journey and they have always spoken to me down the centuries.

Today marks a milestone on my own personal and spiritual journey as it is 44 years since I decided to stop drinking alcohol. Addiction had crept up on me gradually, but an incident which put other people, not just myself, in danger had brought me to ‘rock bottom’. I knew that stopping all at once was necessary for me so I told my husband and later my local Quaker women’s group. I wanted them to know my decision so that I could not go back without letting them down. When I read of Thomas Shillitoe deciding to stop all his prescribed alcohol and drugs at once I recognised a fellow spiritual traveller. His dependence on his Inner Guide to keep him on the right path spoke to me too.

Before I reached my crisis point, sitting in meeting for worship, I heard a voice within clearly telling me to stop drinking but also that change is possible - something I had never believed. I also heard the assurance - my time is not your time - which has helped me to keep going, day after day.

I hesitated to share this part of my spiritual journey with other Quakers, partly as a result of two encounters early in my recovery. At an Area Meeting weekend away I approached someone who I knew had considerable personal and professional experience of addiction and who had become known as something of a ‘guru’ on the subject. He told me that he ‘had to’ go to AA meetings four or five times a week, which sounded to me like swapping one addiction for another. He also dismissed my experience as trivial and not ‘real’ addiction, which effectively silenced me.

On another occasion I hesitantly mentioned something of my story to one Friend only to have another Friend ring me up expecting me to act as an ‘expert’ giving help to others like me, whether they wanted it or not. I did not feel strong enough to attempt this but was then condemned for my selfishness in refusing to give help that I had not offered. I was also anxious that if Quakers generally knew about my addiction they might treat me as I had seen others treated, being perceived one-dimensionally as a ‘poor person with problems’ rather than as fully myself.

It was many years before I could talk to others about my experience in the context of the workshops I gave on writing spiritual autobiography, first of all one to one and then in small groups. Whenever I did this what I said seemed to strike a chord with others. It became clear to me that as Friends we can sometimes appear very self-confident and ‘together’ from the outside so that sharing vulnerability is a necessary way of opening up to one another and coming to know each other, as George Fox said, ‘in the things that are eternal’.

John Woolman recognised that the spiritual path is not always a clear and easy way forward. There may be difficulties to be encountered and although we keep going we sometimes need to pause and consider our next step. For me, paying attention to that inward voice that continues to guide me and give me strength is the right way, one day at a time.

I hope that, on this anniversary, sharing some of my own vulnerabilities as well as those of Quakers in the past may strengthen my connection with you, my readers.