Saying `No` Can Be The Best `yes` In Life

May 03, 1987|By F. Forrester Church.

Most of us begin practicing failure at an early age. We get our basic training in elementary school, little leagues and serious discussions with our parents. For me it was the Boy Scouts.

When I signed up, my uniform looked just like everybody else`s.

Two years later, who could tell that we belonged to the same troop? My uniform hadn`t changed, but they had won so many merit badges that theirs were like Joseph`s proverbial coat of many colors.

Blessedly, I grew up with a high tolerance for failure. It continues to serve me well, but back then it was essential.

During two long years, I earned only one merit badge. Not a tent, fish or deer but a needle and thread. My sole accomplishment as a Scout was the blue- and-gold potholder I wove for my grandmother.

It doesn`t hurt to fail at an early age. Things can`t help but get better, and the company is good. Einstein could hardly speak. Edison couldn`t add. Churchill wouldn`t behave. And not a sewing badge among them.

But over the years, failure becomes more significant and potentially more devastating. Especially for those who have a low failure threshold.

One of my young friends won every merit badge in the book. It came easy for him. It was the story of his life. Until he became an alcoholic.

It was then that he scored his first real success. He joined Alcoholics Anonymous.

For many of us, drinking is pleasurable. It releases tension, lubricates conversation and lifts our spirits when we need a lift.

But the same thing that makes alcohol appealing makes it dangerous. Beginning as our servant, it can make us its slave.

When this happens, we must overcome both a habit and a physiological need. Becoming addicted to alcohol is easy. One may want to stop but not be able to.

Yet people do stop. It happens all the time. From some deep reservoir of latent strength they say ``No`` and prevail.

Most alcoholics have known the very pith of human failure.

Marriages have broken up, jobs been lost, health broken.

But then, not with superhuman strength but with human strength drawn to its fullness, a ringing ``No`` is sounded, and with that ``No,`` a ``Yes.`` A ``Yes, I can.`` A ``Yes, I must.`` A ``Yes, I will.``

And with that ``Yes,`` exacting the utmost of human willpower, a life is saved.

Instead of playing for double or nothing, they refuse to throw in their last chip.

Four years ago, my friend was in the hospital in an alcoholic coma. After visiting him, I gave him up for dead. But he surprised me. He lost his wife and his job but not his life.

Piece by piece, he put it back together.

Such triumphs make most of our failures and subsequent successes look like child`s play.

Having succeeded, recovering alcoholics thrive and serve, often without ostentation or any sense of superiority. Not only do they have a special compassion for the failures of others but also they are living examples of our extraordinary power to remake our lives, to light a candle against the darkness and keep it burning.

I can think of no victory more stunning than the recovery from alcoholism or drug addiction. That`s because few defeats are more devastating.

But what about the rest of us? Since all of us fail, the recovering alcholic may have something important to teach us.

The secret is this. At times, the only thing to do with our pride is swallow it.

None of us is self-contained, wholly self-correcting and self-sustaining. Those who have tasted the bitter rind of their own weakness, only to be cleansed by the sweetness of a supportive family or community, are not ashamed of failure. It is nothing compared with the victory that is gained by turning to others and seeking their loving support.

Recovering alcoholics have learned to accept their weakness while looking beyond it for some greater power whose strength they might tap. Among the places this power certainly resides is in other people. I have known no recovering alcoholics who have not, at their point of greatest weakness, turned to others for help.

This reminds me of the one other lesson I learned as a Scout.

When lost in the woods, if at all possible we should find a stream. All we have to do is follow it, and soon we will be home.