Sought through mindful inquiry and meditation to improve our spiritual awareness, seeking only for knowledge of our rightful path in life and the power to carry that out.”
— Step 11, AA Toronto Agnostics
The book Alcoholics Anonymous opens its discussion of the Eleventh Step with one of the most liberating words in recovery literature: “Step Eleven suggests prayer and meditation.” Not commands, not requires, not demands—suggests. And earlier, on page 63, immediately following the Third Step Prayer, the founders made their flexibility even more explicit: “The wording was, of course, quite optional so long as we expressed the idea, voicing it without reservation.” This acknowledgment reveals what the earliest members understood: there are as many pathways to conscious contact as there are people seeking it.
The secular version of Step 11, crafted by the AA Toronto Agnostics community, honours this same spirit of inclusion. Where the traditional step speaks of prayer and God, this version offers mindful inquiry and spiritual awareness. Where one mentions His will, the other speaks of our rightful path. These aren’t competing approaches—they’re complementary translations of the same essential practice: the daily discipline of getting quiet enough to hear what matters.
What matters isn’t the vocabulary we use but the sincerity of our seeking—and the concrete actions that we take. Some find their conscious contact in traditional prayer, others in meditation, still others in nature, service, or creative expression. The founders knew that spiritual connection transcends any single tradition, which is why the Big Book suggests we might turn to priests, ministers, rabbis—or to “many helpful books.”
This flexibility recognizes that the spirit cannot be confined to a single language or practice. Whether we speak of improving conscious contact with God as we understand God, or improving spiritual awareness through mindful inquiry, we’re describing the same essential movement: from the chaos of self-will toward alignment with something larger, wiser, and more compassionate than our isolated egos.
The secular step’s language of “our rightful path” beautifully captures what the traditional step means by “His will for us”—both point toward discovering and following the life we’re actually called to live, rather than the one our addiction or our fears would dictate. Both versions ask the same question: How do I align my life with what’s real, what’s good, what serves?
Recovery thrives not in doctrinal uniformity but in honest seeking. The rooms hold space for believers and questioners, for those who pray to God and those who practice mindful inquiry, for traditional devotions and contemporary contemplations. What unites us isn’t the words we use but our shared commitment to the daily practice of conscious contact—however we understand it, whatever language helps us get there.
Where do I find my conscious contact?
What practices—whether traditional or contemporary, religious or secular—actually help me align with my rightful path?
How can I honour both my own spiritual vocabulary and the diverse pathways of others?
What would it mean today to embrace the suggestion with openness, recognizing that the specific words matter far less than the sincerity of the seeking?
