Sobriety Without Awakening
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Today, millions have stayed sober for years — but feel spiritually dry.
We talk to God, but we rarely sit still long enough to listen.
No app truly helps revive the lost art of daily Two-Way Prayer — until now.
Long before the Big Book, Dr. Bob and the first sober drunks gathered at kitchen tables before sunrise. They called it Morning Quiet Time — reading spiritual literature, sitting in silence, writing down what they heard from God.
This simple daily habit became the heartbeat of Step 11:
“Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God…”
For the founders, sobriety wasn’t the end goal. Staying spiritually awake was.
Today, millions have stayed sober for years — but feel spiritually dry.
We talk to God, but we rarely sit still long enough to listen.
No app truly helps revive the lost art of daily Two-Way Prayer — until now.
11 is not another generic meditation app or sobriety tracker.
It revives the forgotten daily listening practice that helped spark the original recovery movement — Two-Way Prayer.
Every day, 11 guides you to:
Quiet. Simple. Sacred. The way Dr. Bob did it.
I built 11 because I needed it first.
After 19 years of sobriety, I found myself dry inside — showing up, staying sober, same coffee, same stories. The fire was dim, and I was drifting further from the daily miracle that first saved my life.
My imagination wasn’t fired — it was gone. I worked the Steps. I prayed every morning. I tried meditating by pushing thoughts out and struggled.
When I found out how Dr. Bob and the old-timers did it — Quiet Time, Two- Way Prayer, knees to the floor, sharing guidance, testing it with others — I knew I wanted that, too.
I wanted that closeness back. And I knew I wasn’t alone.
So 11 is my small gift back to the fellowship that gave me my life.
Thank you to A.A. for this life-saving program, and for the rediscovered Step 11 that has taken me on a new and endless adventure.
This is my way of showing gratitude — giving back the lost practice, now found in your pocket.
— Geno, a friend of Bill