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Source: Lorna K – From New York, New York – Date Unknown.mp3 File: lorna-k-from-new-york-new-york-date-unknown.mp3 Duration: 01:11:58
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Alright, good evening ladies, my name is Lorna and I'm an alcoholic, hi, and I'm delighted to be here and thank you so much and I have Dolly to thank for that and I know when someone is organizing one of these conferences they have the choice of many speakers and it's not lost on me that I was chosen here this weekend and I was saying to Dolly earlier, you know, God Almighty, you've chosen some amazing speakers here, every single one of them has been really incredible so I'm delighted to be here and I'm glad I made the effort out of Sandy Torn, New York to get here. I was very fortunate that I'm a few blocks north of where the power went out on Manhattan so, you know, I was spared so I gave my apartment to a refugee from the Lower East Side this weekend so she's very happy, she and her dog are in my apartment. So I, you know, I don't know, I'll start off with this story. I am a little behind the times and I never saw the program The West Wing and I just, I'm watching it now on Netflix, I'm watching The West Wing and there's this one story that came out of it, you probably all know and you'll probably roll your eyes when I tell this story but I thought it was so profound, the, what's his name, Leo told this story and he said, you know, there was a, an alcoholic was walking down the street and he fell into a hole in the ground and the priest came along and the alcoholic yelled out, you know, can you help me, help me and the priest wrote out a prayer and threw it down into the hole and then the, a doctor came by and he yelled out, help me, help me and the doctor wrote out a prescription and threw it down the hole and then another alcoholic came by and he said, help me, help me and the alcoholic jumped into the hole and the guy said, you idiot, now we're both in the hole and the, and the other guy said, yes but I've been here before and I know the way out. I thought that was great and since you're all so big book here, I thought you'd like to hear a story about the big book. A few years ago, the original manuscript came up for auction at Sotheby's in New York and what had happened was Lois had this original manuscript and there was a man that had worked with her for many years and he lived up at Stepping Stones in the little cottage there and as a thank you, she gave it to him at some point and he got old, he got ill, he needed funds so he sold this thing. He put it up for auction. The auction house understood that it was an important American document and they gave it all the trappings that it should have had.
It was put in a catalogue of fine manuscripts and letters and I think it had 5 pages devoted to it and it, the, I think the estimate on it was something like 2 to 500,000, something like that. So, the day of the auction comes and it's not in the main auction room, it's in a subsidiary gallery in the auction house and the place is packed with AAs and we're all standing there, the big book, the big book and the sale starts and the auctioneer was not the expert who had catalogued it, he was just the auctioneer. So, it's going up and up and up and up and on the phone and it, the hammer comes down at, I think it was about 2 million dollars, something like that. The hammer comes down and you know how we are, every, all the AAs were gasping and weeping and going, oh the big book and hugging each other and Bill Wilson and I was in the auction business and I saw, I looked at the
[00:05:03]
auctioneer and I saw him turn to the record keeper and he asked, did this guy write anything else? Well, I suppose the best thing to do is to stay classic and to tell my story. So, I'm, my husband had finally walked out the door and I thought it was the most interesting thing he'd ever done actually. It really caught my attention and I was broken hearted, just broken hearted and I wanted to get this poor wretch back so that I could torture him some more I guess. But no, I really was terribly upset and I was in a sauna one night with a girlfriend of mine down in the West Village and she said to me, you know Lorna, last night I went to this meeting called Alanon and all the women sounded just like you. And as soon as she started talking about alcohol, something clicked, something felt right to me. And so I, the next day I looked up and I went to one of these meetings called Alanon and it was suggested there that one go to open AA meetings. So, I thought right, let me go into the nest of the AAs and see what they're all about. So, the very next night was a Thursday night and I did something that I was to do quite a bit. I worked on Madison Avenue at 76th Street, I worked for Sotheby's and I worked and right opposite where I worked was the Carlisle Hotel and in the Carlisle Hotel was Bemelman's Bar. And a lot of us after work would go over to Bemelman's Bar. Now, I liked to fast all day. Of course I called it being ever so busy, but I fasted all day because I loved that first vodka and orange juice on an empty stomach. You know, I didn't want to eat the peanuts, I didn't want to talk to anyone, I just wanted that boom. And this particular evening, this Thursday evening, I'm there with my friends and I said, oh, it's almost 7.30, I'm going to a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. I'll be back. I toddled up the road to 90th Street between Madison and 5th to this meeting called Lenox Hill. And in those days, Lenox Hill was the silk stocking blue blood meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. The lawyers and the Park Avenue ladies and all the, you know, the older ladies with blue hair, sort of like I am now. And I walked in and I wondered who were the alcoholics. I couldn't see who they were. Everyone looked, you know, pretty regular to me. And I sat down and the meeting began. And it was an open meeting and it was the sort of meeting where people like myself who were not alcoholics could attend. It was three speakers. So the first fellow got up and he stood at a podium.
Actually, he stood at one of those, it just had a pedestal and a place to put your books, I guess. And leaning up against that pedestal was a board and on the board was the Gothic AA script and it said, but for the grace of God, dot, dot, dot. And I suppose we in the meeting were supposed to look at this poor wretch standing up there and realizing that but for the grace of God, we could be him. Anyway, he started and he said, this is what he said. He said, my name's Don and I'm an alcoholic. And I thought to myself, oh, good God, we don't all want to know. Surely, there's some things you keep to yourself.
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Does your mother know? I just was like aghast at this declaration from him. But I sat there and I was mesmerized by his talk. I was moved. I was sad. I was joyous for his accomplishments. I celebrated his life. I had absolutely no idea. It was called identification. No idea whatsoever. And after Don, two other fellows got up and told equally as interesting stories. I just thought it was the best. And I honestly think I don't have to talk anything more about my story because I think that is what qualifies me as an alcoholic. I think if you like coming to these meetings and listening to how people ruin their lives, crawled on the bathroom floor, vomited on their clients, you know, parked cars up trees and spent time in jail and you find it interesting, there's something the matter with you. Well, that was in 1976 and I still find it fascinating. I like to go to lots of meetings. I like to listen to the stories. I like to go to coffee shops afterwards and talk to people about it. I like to get on the phone and talk about it. It's endlessly interesting, endlessly interesting.
And before I go any further, there's something I forgot. I want to, Jen gave me a fabulous introduction and I lost my manners and I didn't say thank you, Jen, and thank you so much for picking me up though there she is at the airport. And she might have had an interesting weekend. I too have had an equally interesting weekend. And she's been the most wonderful host and she left a wonderful basket in my room full of goodies which some of which I left in there because I couldn't, you know, you say you're never going to eat it and then you find you have eaten it. And I, it was just, it's wonderful and I've had a wonderful, wonderful weekend so far here. It's been terrific. So, Jen, thank you. I owe you a great debt of gratitude. So, anyway, I was at this meeting and afterwards I went back to Bemelman's.
You know, what did I know about anonymity? I didn't know the sacredness of anonymity. I thought it was a jolly good job that you kept quiet. You should keep quiet, all the stuff you got up to. But I said to my friends, well, you'd never guess who is an alcoholic. And I told them all sorts of details about their stories and I'm just, you know, my friends are like. But anyway, I, so that was my introduction to AA and I would go on a Thursday night.
I went and you were very kind to me. You never said, what the hell are you doing here? You just let me sit there. I guess I looked a little odd. But anyway, that was, I often described my bottom that I was, there was no bell clanging reality about my bottom. I wasn't in hospital. I wasn't in, there weren't very many, there wasn't such a thing as detox. I think there was one place in Connecticut at the time. But I wasn't falling down drunk.
I had a very good job. I was the first woman art auctioneer in America. I had, you know, I had some sort of fame, I suppose, within a small art circle. And so, no one ever, ever, ever said to me, Lorna, you drink too much. You should do something about your drinking. People said to me things like, shh. And do you mind? And what you thought was amusing is really rather spiteful. And we'd like to invite you for dinner, Lorna, but the last time, you know, Cordelia came and you were terribly rude to her and she was awfully upset and I'm sorry. It was things like that. And I brushed it off with, well, I don't give a damn, that kind of, I couldn't care less about them. However, my bottom, I often feel I came into, I was like a plane coming into land without its landing gear.
In coming into land without its landing gear and I bumped and scraped along the runway for a long time and when, by the time the plane came to a stop, the wings were torn off, the passengers were strewn all over the place, there were panties and bras on bushes and things, it was just a mess, there was nothing heroic or dramatic about it, it was just a mess.
[00:15:26]
I have a very female story in that it was icky, it was shabby, it was like, oh my God, I didn't do that, did I, I didn't wear that, did I, oh God, I didn't say that, did I, and I, the bottom for me was this, you know, I want to say, first of all, it took me two years in AA to understand I had alcoholism. I did not walk through the doors thinking I wanted to get sober, I didn't, couldn't understand getting sober, what is sober, I didn't, it was a language I could not identify with, it took me two years, I knew that my life was a bit shabby and a bit weird and I thought it was just a phase I was in.
The fact that I've been going through that phase since I was four seemed to elude me, but, however, I, it was that year, early in that year when I, I think it was May when I first went to that AA meeting and then in June I was in London with my company and, you know, there's a certain, I'd just become the first woman art auctioneer, there's a certain uniform that you're required to wear at work, you know, if you're, if you're a film director you probably wear jeans and a jeans jacket or something like that, if you're working in a bank you're required to wear, there's uniforms.
So, I'm working, selling hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of art and I'm at Sotheby's on Bond Street in London and I'm conducting an auction and it was a very hot summer and I'm 30 years old and I'm wearing a sundress and it wraps around here like this and I had much bigger breasts, they've gone because I had a double mastectomy, but I mean I had, I was very well endowed. And I'm standing up there conducting this auction and I'm doing this, you know, auctioning on the back of the room and the side and these men are sitting there mesmerized, I had nothing on top at all, nothing here and it just, you know, I was always thoroughly inappropriate.
Anyway, that summer I was in London, my firm had a big gala dinner at a very fancy hotel in London and all the big name collectors were there and the heads of museums and Lord and Lady Do While Diddy and all these people were there. And while they're up dancing, I'm going from table to table emptying their glass into mine and I can remember thinking, you know, my behavior doesn't quite go with my outfit and I don't, it doesn't quite go with my standing in the firm.
And I couldn't quite get what it was that was odd and I'd say, well I don't give a damn and they're all square in any case, they wouldn't understand, you know, I'm so special and unusual and got a very fine mind. Anyway, I left London and I came back to New York and I have this, you know, they say we will not regret the past and I wish to shut the door on it. My father was standing at the garden gate waving goodbye to me because I was coming back to New York and I was so wrapped up in myself and my miserable life and the broken marriage and of course I was having an affair with someone that I wanted to marry so that was kind of mucky.
I wanted the husband back but I'm having an affair and my father's waving goodbye to me and I couldn't be bothered. I was like, yeah, yeah, yeah, bye and it was the last time I was to see him and that, it fills me with regret that I was so self-involved.
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And in this culture actually, that image informs my actions a lot especially in this day and age when I could so easily and I'm often trapped by the cell phone that I'm not paying attention to who's in front of me whether it be the checkout girl in the supermarket or whomever, I'm paying attention to this. And it has caused me to be very rude, very ill-mannered and when I do it, I remember that incident back in 76 and in 76 was also the Bicentennial in New York and I came back to New York because I was anxious to see those tall ships going up the Hudson River.
And I got here and I didn't know where the Hudson was. I didn't know where the river was. I live on Manhattan Island. I could have walked right or left and I would have hit a river, right? Anyway, the whole of America was celebrating and I was all by myself. I'm 30 years old. I'm in an industry where a lot of people knew me and I was so isolated, so isolated. And, you know, this guy that I was having this affair with, he had the one thing in the world I wanted and it wasn't love of me or fine manners or culture or anything like that, the things that were important to me.
He had a maid and I was desperate for the maid. I wanted someone to run my bath, brush my hair, lay my clothes out, tell me to get up, tell me to go to sleep, you know, just handle me because life was becoming all too much for me. It was becoming overwhelming. I had very long hair and this hair drove me insane. And most women have long hair so they can do things with it, put it up, put it down, put combs in it, put it back.
This hair drove me so crazy. I braided it tight as could be and I wore it in braids across the top of my head. And I wore it like that because I could keep it up for three and four days at a time. I didn't have to deal with it, you know, and I fancied I looked like Heidi. But, you know, I just looked crazy. And so I was very, very anxious about the maid and, you know, I let that guy, that fellow, touch the sacred temple in order to get to the maid.
In some circles, that's called prostitution. But what do we care? I mean, there's nothing sacred about my body or the intimate act or anything. It's sort of coffee, bagels and intercourse. I mean, really, it's all the same, really. So I'm back. I'm here in New York. And one Sunday, I had this guy came back from Paris, this lover. And we met for brunch. And it was very hot. Oh, I missed the big part.
I got up that morning and I fixed myself a carafe of vodka and orange juice. And I poured a tumbler full of it. And I drank this tumbler. And I remember holding the glass. You don't have water for me. Is that for mine? Thank you. There you go. Thank you. Someone else's. It doesn't matter. I remember holding the tumbler out like this and looking at it and thinking. Leslie Kennedy?
[00:25:00]
Sorry, I'll take this. Okay. Is everything all right? Good. Where was I up to? I just wanted to test to see if you were listening. So anyway, I looked at this tumbler full of booze. And I thought to myself, good God, I'm drinking in the morning. This is a morning drink. And there's a saying that the beginning of wisdom is to call something by its correct name. And I've had a drink in the morning many, many times.
But I'd called it brunch. I'd called it toasting the bride or gallery opening or summertime or Wednesday or something. But I'd never named it. I'd never named it what it was, that it was a drink in the morning. And with that naming of it, the disease came running. With that possibility of health, the disease came running. And it said, oh, Lorna, you know, the sort of woman you are. The kind of job you have to hold down.
Just the you of being you. Why do you make life so difficult for yourself? Why don't you do this every morning? It would be so helpful to go to work with this little lining of courage in your stomach. You're not like the rest of them. You're special. You're different. And I looked at it and I said, you know, you're right. I should. So I got, oh, I hope I get your disease. So I got into the shower and I'm taking a shower and I cannot release this glass from my hand.
And I'm soaping myself up trying to keep it out of the shower. And I met the guy for brunch and it was a disaster. And by this time I'd had, you know, pretty much all of that carafe to drink. And we split up angry. And I ended up on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. And I'm sitting there on those steps and I've never felt so lonely or miserable or terrible in all my life. You know, people were going, I don't know if you know that scene in New York, people going in and out of the museum and life is happening all around me and I cannot get to it.
I knew it was there but I just couldn't see it. I just couldn't feel it. And I don't know if any of you have ever suddenly gotten very bad news on the telephone. You've lifted the receiver or something and you've gotten very bad news. And there's that moment of what shall I do? I didn't know whether to turn right, to turn left, to go into the museum, to come out, sit down, stand up. I just didn't know what to do.
And this voice came to me and said, go to one of those meetings, go to one of those meetings. And I got myself together and I went to this meeting at the Moravian Church on Lexington Avenue and 30th Street. And I walked in there and it was like Hollywood imagined AA in the 50s. It was so hot that August and there were men in there in raincoats. It was a Salvation Army kind of place. And a woman was speaking and I was so drunk by this time.
I'd had all this stuff in the morning. I'd had more drinks at lunch, at brunch with this fellow. And it was hot and the braids were tight and I just, you know, oh. And I sat down and this woman started speaking and to me she looked like a hag. She looked, she did, she was very used looking and she had all broken capillaries on her face and just a mess. And it was like God appeared to me in that form because she started telling her story and she told her story up to where I was at that very moment.
And then she went on for another 15 years. And suddenly I got to see coming attractions. I got to see with that great clarity that she was me and I was her. And the only difference between us was time. Moment by moment by moment by moment I was going to die. By moment by moment, I was going to be her, and suddenly I thought, oh my God, I've been going to AA meetings because I belong.
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It's not the husband, it's not the lover, it's not the country, it's not the work. I drink. That's what I do. I drink. And it was so horrific to me, that realization. I ran out onto Lexington Avenue, ran into the nearest bar and knocked some more back. And just trying to like squash the whole idea. No, I didn't see it. I didn't see it. I didn't see it. And the next night I walked into a meeting where you hadn't seen me. And I said, you know, I'm here for myself. And that's become my journey.
And I didn't know how you knew I was a newcomer. I couldn't, you know, when I first used to speak, I used to think to myself when I'd finished speaking, the next time I speak, I must get my story straight. But there's no getting it straight, because I see it differently all the time. I feel it differently. I'm 36 years sober, and my story is still being revealed to me. You know, I just made, as I said last night, I made an amend to my sister last year at 35 years sober, and I had no idea I owed her an amend.
No idea whatsoever. And I've done, you know, the steps back and forth, and da-da-da-da-da-da. Things are only revealed as they're revealed, and we cannot push, we cannot force the process on someone. We have to allow that process to happen. Some women have come into the program, and I've had to help them do ninth steps immediately, because the guilt and the pressure was so, and long before they even realized that they had a problem or God in their life or any of the other highfalutin stuff, it just, they've got to get this burden off their souls. So I, you know, I just didn't know, and I had such mixed feelings, because part of me thought that you took one look at me when I walked in the rooms, and you nudged each other, and you said among yourselves, well, thank God Lorna's here, because she adds such great tone and class to AA.
And we can hold our heads up high, and now we can walk out of the darkness of anonymity into the spotlight of fame, because she will lead us. And, you know, and what was happening, you were patting me, you know how you do when you were saying, you keep coming back, sweetheart. You're in the right place. And I didn't know what it was about me that made you think I was new. The fact that I was festooned with jewelry, and jewelry on all over the place, long before all this fad came out, and I had gobs and gobs of makeup on, and I couldn't be bothered to take it off every night. I was like Elizabeth I, I just slathered more on every day.
It was all too much, that's why I needed the maid. In the end, I was dressing out of thrift shops, and I would buy things in thrift shops, because I could not face a department store. And I'm only telling you this, this only, this story was revealed to me years of sobriety. This was revealed to me how I was. You know, I thought I was the cat's pajamas when I walked in. And I felt that way that you, on one hand I felt that you thought I added great tone and class, and on the other hand I thought, I hope they don't kick me out. I hope they don't find out that I really don't drink.
That I haven't really had a drink, and I don't know how to make a martini, and there's all sorts of things I don't know about alcohol. And if they find out, they might say, sweetheart, you know, we're a busy organization, and do you mind? And we notice that you always sit up front and you eat a lot of cookies, and come back when you've got a story to tell us. But you didn't say anything like that. So, I got spared a great deal. I, you know, I really looked bizarre.
[00:35:02]
Oh, so there's shopping in thrift shops, and one day at work, a co-worker came to me, and very quietly, very softly, you know how we speak when we don't want to disturb the nutcase, she asked me, Lorna, it seems that I've got a maids thing going on here, she asked me, Lorna, why are you wearing a maids uniform? And as soon as she asked me, I took a look at this, and I realized, oh my God, it's a maids uniform. And it was that salmon color, and it had the little cuffs here, and the collar, and the matching belt, and it had a zip up the front. And I bought it because it made me look neat and tidy.
I was desperately trying to keep it together, you know, and this was a way of keeping it together. And when clients, when I went out to see clients, they must have been astounded that I was the expert in charge of this collection, and that, you know, it's a wonder they didn't give me their coat to hang up. But, and I was too young to be eccentric. I just was off the wall. And I think the only thing that saved me was this accent. I really do. I think it was the only thing that saved me.
And, you know, my boss, they do, alcoholism is often described this way, that we're sitting in a train, and we're sitting by a window, and the window, as the train goes along, the window allows us to see the scene like this, what the window allows us to see. Then the train comes to a stop, put the drink down. We get out of the train, and we step back, and we see that we were in a carriage. And then we step back even further, and we can see that it's many carriages to this train.
And we see, as we step back even further and further, and maybe up a hill, we can see where it was coming from, and where it was headed. And my heading was, my boss would have called me in, and he would have said, you know Lorna, you do a great job, and you make a lot of money for the company, but you're a loose cannon, and we never know what you're going to do next, what you're going to say next, how you're going to come to work dressed next.
We can't take the risk. And you know, I have had to drop that very loser phrase in sobriety of, this is the loser phrase. Well, that's just the way I am. As soon as I've said that, I've made my life about this big, you know. I have no idea the way I am. I've never been in this day sober before. I have no idea of the possibilities. Anyway, you know, to think of time and getting on with this, I moved along, I've talked about it.
Actually, I often say, you know, I got spared in my look that I didn't come in, I managed to avoid tattoos and piercing. They just weren't around in the 70s, because I'm sure I would have had the last supper put on my chest or something. I wouldn't have been satisfied with some dainty little ring in my nose. I would have had a plate in my lower lip. I would have gone to such extreme. Anyway, I'm in the program, and I get a sponsor, and I think we all get the person that's right for us.
My sponsor never told me to work the program, never pushed me at all in the program. All she did was hold out the high road for me. She never, ever told me that I have to work it, because she knew I was out to lunch, and there was no thing of working. And her belief was inherent in every work will eventually become boredom, and that, you know, you get people that are new in the program, and they're enthusiastic, and they're running meetings, and they're going to institutions, and they're doing this, and they're yanking people out of bars.
And then we hit a wall, and my sponsor told me to fall in love with AA, to develop a love affair with AA, and that's what she wanted me to do.
[00:40:16]
And she said, you know, you develop a love affair by being around the lover, and you go to lots and lots of meetings, and you have your life. I didn't go to the movies, I don't think, until I was about three years sober. I didn't do anything but go to work and go to meetings. That's what I did. And I was talking to Penny before, you know, meetings, my evening was my meeting. I didn't do anything else, and I had a very full life. That's what it was.
And I fell in love with Alcoholics Anonymous, and it carried me through, because in the, I hope that no one, well, if you take offense, I don't know what to do, but for me, you know, I think it's wrong thinking to say the most important person in the room is the newcomer. I don't believe that at all, because sometimes someone's sitting there with long-term sobriety, and they're suffering. They're suffering, and they don't speak up about what they're going through, because how's it going to look for the newcomer?
And it can be death, and the newcomer should see that no matter what, if we're miserable and we're having a terrible day, we don't drink. And the, you know, my sobriety, something happened to me when I was 14, 15 years sober, something like that. It switched, and I can't tell you why it switched or what happened. I think it was a call, a deepening of my spiritual life, going on a deeper level. It's, if you had asked me up to that point, what's the most important thing in your life, I would have shot back, my sobriety is the most important thing in my life.
It's not true. It's no longer true. My sobriety is not the most important thing in my life. The most important thing in my life is my love, is Alcoholics Anonymous. I do not wake up every morning thinking, ooh, another day to make amends and to love my fellow men and to do service and to just be a light unto the world. I wake up some mornings thinking, oh, God, no, and I've got to talk to this one, I've got to talk to that one, and I'm not always, you know, I'm deeply shallow.
I don't always wake up with this abundant feeling of gratitude and for the enormous gift that's been given to me. I don't. I lose sight of it. I lose sight. My faith isn't that adherent. I need you. Some days I need you to have that faith, but I have never, ever wavered in my love of Alcoholics Anonymous, never. And I'm so grateful to that sponsor for making me have a love affair because we all know in every relationship there comes a time when you're looking across the breakfast table and you're thinking, what did I do?
And I could have gone with him instead of this one. And you need that love, you need that passion, you need the, I, sorry, I'm so sorry. I needed that passion and that love to remember what it was. You know, a lot of you know that I was very friendly with Mother Teresa, very close with her actually, and she went through a very dry period in her spiritual life. And it was the remembrance of her early love that saw her through, that gave her the faith to carry on because she remembered that she was in love.
And, you know, there are 8 million stories in the Naked City. This is just one of them and this is just what happened to me and how the program was given to me. So, you know, I had the perfect sponsor, as I said, because I couldn't see that I drank. I could not see. It took me ages to understand that, oh, maybe that was passing out at the dinner table. Maybe that wasn't just falling asleep. Maybe I was weird in my dress because I was peculiar, you know, just peculiar.
[00:45:00]
of alcoholism, how alcoholism had manifested in me, what the weirdness of my thinking and my… But how much longer do I have? You can talk all night, honey. No, but how much longer? I don't know, 20 minutes? All right. So, I do want to share one story and then I know a lot of you would like to hear about Mother Teresa, but I almost drank when I was 32 years sober, so that's 4 years ago. And this is what happened to me.
I think it's important to share it and it's a great message that I need to hear. It's not so much that you need to hear it, I need to hear myself saying it. I had been invited to this Epicurean dinner in Kentucky and I was very enthusiastic to go because I was riding at the time horses and I wanted to go and there were going to be a lot of horse people there at this dinner. So, I had, you know, I have a mental, physical and spiritual disease and physically I had been through hell. I had been diagnosed with breast cancer, I'd had a double mastectomy, I'd been given chemotherapy, this wonder chemotherapy and one in 10,000 it affects their heart, I was that one in 10,000, my heart went into failure, I got blood clots, I'm just rambling on this, but I mean that was an emergency, an emergency, an emergency and I was told to get my affairs in order and that's actually why I wrote this second book because I thought I was going to die and I thought there's some things I want to say before I go. But I, so that I kept, I got better, then I fell off a horse and broke both my wrists at the same time, try operating, don't ask, without your use of your hands. So, I fell on Madison Avenue and broke my knee and I was at this Epicurean dinner on the smash knee incident and even after the smash knee I had heart surgery last year and, you know, just, I do hope it's, I went to the Jubilee for the Queen this year and I was there three days and I fell and broke my left knee and I had to miss the entire Jubilee and Her Majesty wouldn't do it again for me, I mean, she's like that.
So, anyway, I'm going to this Epicurean dinner, right, and I'm all gung ho and I'm down there and I'm on crutches, but I'm going. And this, how it worked was that there were about 18 of us at this two-night affair and they had five chefs and the chef would come out, one of the chefs would come out and explain why he or she, explain the dish that he or she had prepared and then they would explain why they had chosen the particular wine to go with this dish. Now, I'm a good AA, I'd called ahead of time, I talked to the host and I'd said, Harry, whatever his name was, I said, I can't have alcohol in any form, I can't have it in a glass, I can't have it in food, I can't have it in dessert, I can't have it, even if it's cooked up, I can't have it. So, he, it was very nicely taken care of, everyone else had this battery of wine glasses around their plate, I had a goblet which was constantly filled with Pellegrino water. It was a beautiful table, mahogany shining table with the silverware going out like this and the beautiful candelabra and the flowers in the middle, very elegant, very nice, couldn't have been nicer.
So, we're going along and we're on the second night now and we're talking horses and we're having just a lovely time and the pasta dish is served and the chef comes out and explains the pasta dish and explains the wine and the woman sitting opposite me suddenly says, oh, this wine is fantastic and she turns to the host, the host is here, I'm here and she's there and she says, Harry, all the wines have been superb but this one and then he agreed with her and they're rhapsodizing about the wine and how it's come out of his own cellar and when he bought it and all this and suddenly she looks across the table at me and she says, Lorna, are you not drinking? And I, why she hadn't
[00:50:02]
noticed before, I can't imagine, but I said, no, I'm not drinking and she said, well, I don't usually drink but this wine is extraordinary and she said, and what it does to the pasta is amazing and by this time the disease is slithering across the table, it's slithering around the silver candelabra and across the flowers and around the goblet of Pellegrino and it comes and it comes up here and snakes up and it nuzzles into my cheek and it whispers in my ear, Lorna, this wouldn't be a slip, you don't want to have a drink, you just want to enhance the pasta.
You don't have to worry about it being dangerous for you, you will not lose your sobriety and so it talked to me this way and there was nothing, nothing that said, you're in danger, you're on thin ice, be careful, nothing whatsoever said that and you know there's something in our literature that says there will come a time when nothing stands between you and a drink except your higher power and in that moment my higher power was the thousands of meetings I've been to and it was you, it wasn't God in that form of, I didn't pray, I didn't think of it, nothing happened up here, nothing happened and all I did was I put my knife and fork down and I did this, I sat back in the chair like this, I just sat and the moment passed and I pushed myself up like this and I picked up my cutlery and I went on eating and I hadn't ordered the wine because I could easily have turned around and said, excuse me, I've changed my mind, I'd like to taste that wine and the next day I was in my room packing to come back to New York and that whole scene flashed in front of my eyes and I broke down and I wept, I just wept and wept, I couldn't believe the cunningness of it, I could not believe how, it was just like Eve in the garden, you know, she didn't want to go against God, she just wanted to have some knowledge and that's what, I couldn't believe the treachery of alcoholism and I just was horrified and when I came back to New York I could do nothing but talk about it, nothing but talk about it and of course I had to analyze it and talk about it and what had I done, where was I lacking and this is what I understood that, you know, I have a mental, physical and spiritual disease and physically when we come in, we're told get the alcohol out of the house, check labels, don't go into bars, you know, don't have anything to do with alcohol, check the food you eat, all sorts of things like that, that we understand the physical thing of staying away from that liquid, then we get on and we do fourth steps where we can take an inventory of ourselves and look at ourselves and look at our character defects and realize that we can't change ourselves, we need power, we need work in that way and so we surrender six and seven and we surrender and then we realize, oh my God, you know, I've trampled through the lives of other people and we need help to write eighth steps and to work ninth steps and then it comes into daily maintenance and spiritual, then the concentration goes, not that it should always stay there in such intensity because we can rely that God is going to be there for us, we can rely that it's true, we don't have to keep on doing and asking the same old thing every single day, I'm sure God goes, oh hey, you asked me that yesterday, you know, can you ask me something different? So, and it goes into our spiritual life, you know, to make amends, to be aware when we're on the cell phone, to be aware how we are in society, in the world and with others and I lost sight of the physical, I lost sight that I've been
[00:55:07]
under anesthesia five times, that I'd lost my breasts, that I had heart problems and, you know, not only am I an alcoholic but I'm British, so there's all that, get up, do it strong, you know, stiff upper lip and all that and no, I'm missing an arm but I've got another one, you know, and don't complain, don't cry, you know, I had a mother that if I said, you know, I'm cold and she'd say, no, you're not, don't be so ridiculous. I, you know, I, so I had to look at how I had negated myself physically and that I live in a vehicle, I live in a sacred body and it needs care, it needs attention, it needs to rest, it needs to eat, I, it's a sacred thing given to me and I must take care of it. So that was my, I really would love to share that story because it was, I always thought a slip would come like, you know, Les Mis and they'd be, the French, they'd be standing at the barricades, they'd be standing on the barricades and they'd, you would be there with signs going, easy does it, stop, stop, stop and the first drink and you'd be there warning me with the flags and this but the disease slithered through the barricades. I thought there would be alarming signs about picking up a drink and there weren't.
So that's my tale and I want to talk a bit about the gift that, I don't know why Mother Tracer and I were close, it just was, that's the way it was. I think because I argued with her a lot and I didn't see eye to eye with her and she'd never had an auctioneer fall into the mother house in Calcutta and I'd never seen the likes of her before. So we just, you know, we were always arguing about things and I was sharing with someone today, you know, I don't know if anyone in the room is Catholic here but I, on my first visit to India, Mother asked me, are you Catholic?
And I said, well, I was born Catholic but I don't know how I feel about the virgin birth, I don't understand devotion to the sacred heart of Jesus and I really don't like the Pope and she went, oh, you're Catholic. And it was actually ever since then that I thought, yes, what am I talking about? I'm Catholic, that's what I am but it didn't stop me, it has never stopped me from investigating other religions and other modes and spirituality and I'm in a program where the co-founder Bill Wilson explored and, you know, talked and went and invited us to explore all kinds of spiritual traditions, there's a great richness out there.
But anyway, Mother was fascinated with Alcoholics Anonymous, fascinated. And sometimes I'd say to her, you sure you don't have a problem? I mean, really? And we'd get together and we'd be talking about something and she'd always bring the conversation around to AA and one time she was in New York, you know, and I was with her in Midtown and we, I mean, she wasn't shopping at Saks or anything and she was in a limo without riders, you know, the President has motorcycles and I was in the car with her and she stopped and dropped me at an AA meeting, now I ask you, really. So, she was just so in love with AA and the wonderful thing about her was, well, first of all, Mother had success with every form of suffering in the human condition but she could not help the alcoholic and she could not help the alcoholic.
And she could not help the alcoholic because she did not have the words of eternal life that you and I have. And those words are, I know how you feel, let me tell you what happened to me.
[01:00:06]
And she knew she didn't know. And so, and she was very respectful. And in the mother house, in the chapel there, the main chapel, there's just sacks on the floor. And you kneel on the stone floor with just sacking on it. And there's a big statue of the Blessed Virgin on a pedestal. And underneath that pedestal is where Mother put things that were important to her, meant something to her. And pride of place on that pedestal was our little plastic card with the Twelve Steps and the Twelve Traditions and the Serenity Prayer and the I am responsible.
And she just was so respectful and about AA. And Krishnamurti, who was a great Indian saint, he didn't die. He died in the 70s, I think. And he spent a lot of time in America and he was a wonderfully well-educated man and just an amazing human being. And he said that it had taken over 2,000 years for the true face of Christianity to appear in the world and the teachings of Jesus to be manifested. And those teachings were in the Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous.
So this real, you know, we are carriers of the, and I think I can, you know, most groups I go to, you mentioned Jesus, you can clear the room. But it's been my great passion and what I follow. Anyway, there was a time when mother was really ill and we thought it was it. And so I dashed off to Calcutta and I went straight to the hospital where she was. And she was in this tiny room and I, she was so surprised to see me.
But there she was in bed propped up against some pillows and she had on her nightgown, it wasn't a nightie. It was a night, just a robe and a little kerchief on her head, the white kerchief that they wore. And she was sort of sitting up propped up against these pillows. We were talking and very shortly after I arrived, a young Indian priest came in to offer Mass. And they set the table up, you know, that the patient eats off.
They set it up at the bottom of the foot of the bed and he laid it out at the altar. And facing mother in bed, he said Mass. And this room was very, very small. There's mother in bed here. I'm squashed here and Sister Monica is in next to me here. And there were two other sisters on the other side of the bed. That was all that was in this room. So it's not lost on me that I'm having Mass with Mother Teresa, you know, in her nightie.
So the time comes for communion. And he comes around the side of the bed with the chalice. And I push myself to give him some room. Mother pushes herself off the pillows like this and she sticks out her tongue. And he dips the host in the chalice of wine. They were doing that in the 80s and 90s. Dips the host in the chalice of wine. Gives it to mother and she takes it very reverentially on her tongue.
And there she is in prayer. And I'm thinking, you know how the computer of the mind goes. I'm thinking, oh God, not here. Don't let me make a fuss about the wine here. Here's this saint dying in bed next to me. And don't bring all the attention onto yourself, you know. Lorna, let it go this one time. Let it go. There's no one from AA here. They're not going to know. And it's bloody Mother Teresa for God's sakes.
It's everyone would understand. Take it. And it's the sacred blood of Jesus. So, you know. And then in that next flash, all of you pass before my eyes. And Bill Wilson, standing in the Mayflower Hotel, having had a disastrous business deal, goes out. And he's standing there. And I don't know if you've been to that hotel.
[01:05:01]
It's so amazing to see how close the bar was to the phone. I always thought it was down a long hallway until I saw it for myself. And he stood there. And I'm sure that if Bill Wilson had had a successful business deal, we wouldn't be here. You know, we are born out of pain and the darkest time. And anyway, he stood there and he was all alone. There was no one to see him making that choice. And he went to the phone.
And because he went to the phone, I'm here this evening. And it matters what I do. It matters what I do in the hidden moments of my life. It's not always seen. And it's not always will I feel the karmic results of my actions or the consequences of my actions. I do not know. But I suddenly thought of all the thousands that have gone before me and hopefully all the millions that will come after me. And it matters what I do.
It matters. And if I'm not here to tell my story, this story will never be told. So I put my hand up. And I said, no, no, no. No wine, please. And he's a young priest and he's all confused. And I said, I would like communion but don't dip it in the wine. And he's already holding up this dripping body of Christ. And I told Sister Monica, you take it, you take it. She's got it. And then he gives me the plain host.
And then he walks around the bed to give communion to the other sisters. And I'm standing there feeling exactly the way I thought I'd feel. I'm feeling awkward. I'm feeling like I stood out. It always has to be me. Why do I have to make a big deal about myself? And Mother's hand came across the covers. And she took my hand and she pulled me down to her. And she whispered, well done. You must continue to protect your precious gift.
So I want to just leave with that. I want to say that, you know, every so often I get that surge of, oh, my God, the preciousness of the gift, the gift that I'm here and I'm sober. I have the same worries that everyone else has. You know, I think, will I get money? Will I have, you know, I haven't had a relationship. I was saying to someone last night that since sort of Elizabeth I was on the throne, I don't think, you know, Shakespeare hadn't even written his sonnets the last time I had a relationship.
So I have this and, you know, my career which is non-existent and all that. And staying sober is my career. Building empires is what I do on the side. And I just, you know, I need you here. I need to hear the amazing things I've heard this weekend. And I need to see you. And I want to tell you this so that you know how you are. I'm a circuit speaker. I go around and I speak. And it's one of the loneliest services I do because I'm usually greeted as the speaker.
And even this dolly this weekend said, I can't believe I'm speaking to the speaker this way. I'm so casual with you. And it's wonderful. And people don't talk to me because I'm the speaker. And everyone's talking among themselves and with their friends. And it's lonely. And I sit in some airport and the flight is gone. It's missing. I had to get up at 6 o'clock in the morning yesterday to make sure I got to the airport for a 10 o'clock flight, you know, to here.
And it's a lonely kind of service, I want to say. And so, and packing up and flying and doing all that stuff. But this weekend, I really, it's one of the most, and I thought Columbus, Ohio. Cleveland, sorry, Cleveland. Sorry, sorry, sorry.
[01:10:04]
And I thought, you know, Ohio, it's a battleground state. And I just, and I tell you, it wasn't one of the things that I thought, oh, yippee. It's not, it wasn't like getting an invitation to speak on Maui or anything. I'm in Cleveland, really. And it's been extraordinary. You've been lovely. So many of you have come up and said hello to me or said you can't wait to hear me speak. Now you probably regret it.
But I just, you've been, it's a memorable weekend for me. My wonderful host, Jen, we found a knitting store. And we've just had the best time. And we've had very in-depth conversations. And I won't forget this. And some people come up to me and say, oh, you remember when you spoke and blah, blah, blah. And it's like, I can't remember. But this I will remember. And I want to thank you so much for going to meetings, for doing service, for putting money in the basket.
Don't ever let the basket pass by without contributing. If you don't have money, throw in your watch, write a poem, you know, cut a lock off your hair, do something. But contribute to life. Be a participant in the program. And so, you know, if you weren't here, my life would just be a continuation of the steps of the Metropolitan. So I thank you deeply for your sobriety. Thank you so much. Thank you.