I was reminded this morning about sponsorship. Which also reminded me of being sponsored.
There’s a tale about Bill W., which was passed down the oral tradition line, about the word “pigeon”. That’s what people called, what is now designated as “sponsee”, those of us, who had a sponsor. The story goes that Bill used to meet his those he sponsored in a small park in NYC. As he sat waiting for the man he was supposed to meet, he looked up at a statue there and noticed that the pigeons in the park pooping on it. Hence the name “pigeon”. I still call people I sponsor “pigeons”. Eventually “friend” as time passes.
I read a piece in the book “The Language of the Heart”, where Bill described sponsors as the half blind leading the blind. Seems so apt a description. After all, we only know what we know, wherever we are along the path we’re on. Further along the path, what we seem to know may change.
My sponsor said that he owed me the truth as he knew the truth today. He also reminded me that I owed him the truth in turn. That’s where the poop comes in. He also told me that his truth might change tomorrow, as he himself learned more.
From my sponsor I learned what AA was and what it was not. He told me it was not a hotel or flop house. It wasn’t a bank to make loans. It wasn’t a lonely hearts club. What it was was a place where men and women met and stayed sober together. That was the bottom line: Staying sober together. It still is.
When I think of sponsorship, I still think of my sponsor and his example. When I have the opportunity to sponsor someone, I try to do what he did for me. I know that I’m not in charge of someone’s life. I’m not there to make decisions for them. I’m not the arbiter of their sex life (it’s in the BB). I’m not their priest or minister. I’m not there to form their idea of a higher power. Their personal life is their own, unless they invite me in to talk about it. Otherwise it’s myob. My only purpose is to help them along the pathway to sobriety and talk about my experiences with the steps.
My sponsor could be blunt and to the point. He could call me out for my untruths. And he would. But he saved my life and I would probably say he gave me a chance to save my soul.
He kept me sober.
Anyway, I was thinking about this today.