“We were really in full flight from reality.”
— Steps and Twelve Traditions, Step Four
There’s a phrase in Step Four of AA’s Twelve and Twelve that hits me every time:
“In full flight from reality.”
It’s meant to describe the mindset of the alcoholic, but I’ve come to believe it applies far more broadly. Not just to those of us who drank too much — but to anyone with a mind, a story, a fear of being exposed, or a desire to escape.
Because full flight from reality? That’s not just an alcoholic’s condition. That’s the human condition.
The Many Exits from Reality
We all have our exits. Some are obvious: drinking, drugs, binge-eating. Others are so common they pass as normal: busyness, judgment, doom-scrolling, obsessively fixing other people’s lives.
One of my personal favorites? Judging others.
Because when I’m judging you, I’m not looking at me.
That’s one of the slickest ways I know to escape.
There’s a line I often repeat, because it speaks to this tendency to seek discomfort in stillness:
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“That’s what’s wrong.”
We become addicted to activity, crisis, and commentary. Stillness feels like failure.
Technology has amplified this dysfunction. We’re told it will make us more efficient, more productive, more optimized — and yet we sit there scrolling endlessly.
If you’re a woman, it’s often Target ads and lifestyle influencers. If you’re a man, it’s sports, news, or something a little less safe-for-work. Either way, it’s not reality — it’s a distraction.
The First Reality: Life or Death
Reality starts with one question: Are you alive — or not?
That’s the first cut. If you’re dead, this conversation ends. But if you’re alive — really alive — then the next question is:
What does it mean to live?
Not just to survive — with food, shelter, or a social life — but to actually live.
That’s where things get harder.
It means asking:
- What do I want?
- What am I good at?
- And how do those two things come together in a way that matters?
These questions form the riddle of being human. And most people don’t answer them — they avoid them.
Because the answers require real work: self-inquiry, risk, humility, and honesty. It’s easier to judge others than to discern what you want.Easier to stay “productive” than to be purposeful.
Instinct, Imagination, and the Human Tangle
Bill Wilson described instincts gone haywire — for sex, security, and social standing.
What began as natural human needs, he said, become distorted by fear, desire, and ego.
That distortion leads to dysfunction. And you don’t need to be drunk to suffer from it.
Today we might say it differently. Psychology talks about needs. Neuroscience talks about reward systems. But the idea remains:
We are driven by ancient instincts — and derailed by modern minds.
Because here’s the rub: we don’t just have instincts — we have imaginations. And these imaginations are powerfully vivid and mesmerizing.
We want not just love — but perfect love. Not just safety — but certainty. Not just success — but admiration.
The imagination distorts our instincts until we are chasing shadows. The alcoholic uses alcohol to escape the pain of this impossible chase. Others use work, drama, performance, approval, and yes — technology.
The Work of Coming Back
AA offers a path back to reality — not just sobriety.
Practices for Return:
- Inventory
- Amends
- Meditation
- Service
But most importantly, it helps us wake up.
Wake up to our own lives. Wake up to our values. Wake up to our part.
And while the program can help show you how, it will never tell you what. Only you can ask — and answer — what you want. Only you can do the real work of living.
But in the rooms, you’ll find people who’ve done that work — or are doing it. People who can say, “Here’s how I got there.” That’s the power of experience, strength, and hope. The core of the program. Bill and Bob talking.
Stillness Isn’t Emptiness
What if you don’t need to do more?
What if, just for today, the goal isn’t to fix yourself — or others — but to feel what’s true?
What if the next step isn’t forward or back — but inward?
What if, as the old line goes:
“Nothing’s wrong. That’s what’s wrong.”
Maybe we’ve mistaken stillness for stagnation — and in doing so, fled the one place where real life waits:
Right here. Right now.
