In a letter, the eighteenth-century master Hakuin tells of watching a cicada casting its skin. It managed to free its head and then its legs and one wing. But it was unable to free its other wing.

Moved with pity for the suffering of the creature, Hakuin reached out and helped free the other wing with the tip of his finger. But the result was not what he had expected. Even though the wing was free, the cicada was unable to use it. Because Hakuin had interfered with the struggles of the cicada, it could not fly.

When we attempt (to paraphrase the AA Big Book in another context) to do for another recovering addict what we believe he cannot do for himself, we can interfere with the spiritual development of that person in the same way that Hakuin destroyed the cicada's chances of flying. In its treatment of Step 10, the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions says, "Someone who knew what he was talking about once remarked that pain was the touchstone of all spiritual progress." Sometimes we have to be willing to fill the role of onlookers in the presence of others' painful spiritual struggles.

They say that if you scratch a recovered alcoholic, you'll find an unrecovered Al-Anon underneath. Particularly if we are old-timers, we can find it hard to resist the temptation to offer help when no actual help has been requested. When we see other people struggling, it's usually all right to ask them if they would like help. And it's usually not all right to help them before they've asked.

A constant practice of Step 10 is useful in many ways -- not least its ability to make us into non-enabling friends instead of enabling busybodies.