Missing Meetings

I am very fortunate with AA meetings. There are about 300 in my driving range, so I'm told, and if I need to miss one of my regulars, dozens more are available. I'm almost anxious to get to my women's group tonight, because it has been more than a week since I've made a meeting.

The last time I went this long is maybe never.
So, guess what's happening to my stress level...

The desire to drink isn't present, and I talk to others in recovery every day; I even work with one. But, boy, it is not the same program for me. Something most helpful happens to my body, mind and spirit when I am in an AA meeting, even when my brain wanders or says the topic isn't for me.

This alcoholic hasn't a clue how some people "do this" without meetings, and she doesn't want to find out.

A WE(E) PROGRAM

AA is called a "we " program because together we can do what we could not do alone. This Summer, Michael and I have been watching a "we" program in action. Shortly after returning to Ohio, Michael and I were enjoying our usual 5 o'clock cuppa, sitting on our swing and surveying all that needed to be done on our 7 acres. We were contemplating a semi hollow tree that we have avoided cutting because it gives such beautiful shade when Michael said he thought he saw a paw poking out of an opening where we had a limb cut off last year. A few minutes later a bandit face poked out, then another, and another,... and another. As we ate our evening meal on the porch, we watched what appeared to be their first excursion. First one shimmeyed up the trunk with all four legs extended sideways and belly flat to the to the surface. When he reached a main crotch he started chittering to the others. Soon two more joined him and the three called encouragment to the last smaller one. That littlest one attempted twice then backed into the hole crying. At that point two of the bandits crept back down, enticed their sibling out of the hole and with one in front, one behind, helped him up the trunk. Until dusk they amused us by climbing out to the shakey tips of branches, learning to maneuver around each other, and gaining confidence with each new trick.

Two days later they were in the chicken yard. We had already considered the fact that they are apparently without a mother and their presence means future trouble if they managed to live, so we went out making threatening gestures and Michael barked like a dog trying to frighten them away. These tiny babies looked at us with their intelligent, pleading eyes like we were crazy. Two of them scrambled back up the fence post, one climbed a small lilac bush in the enclosure, and the tiniest one put his head in the corner next to the building making himself as small as possible and shivvered. I looked at Michael and we just walked away saying , "Well, they will come out the open gate when we leave." The two on the fence post called to the others and the one in the corner joined them, but the one in the tree found the little branches very bouncy and he couldn't decide how to let go. Did the three abandon him? No. The three climbed back inside and joined him in the tree. These tiny creatures, not much bigger than kittens, scared as they might have been, were going to stick together.

The next day I startled them from under the current bush when I drove by on the riding mower. Admiring their will to survive I told Michael I could spare a few currents, and we might as well let nature take its course. A few days later we spotted them eating mullberrys under the tree down by the road and two mornings later as I gazed out the window welcoming the dewey morning I saw 4 tiny humps moving along the backside of the chicken fence later to appear beyond the building marching in a row toward the hedgerow in the direction of the pond. It has been three weeks now that we have been sure they are on their own, and they are making it. One has to admire their resoursefulness and take a lesson from their mutual support. A good AA lesson: Learn to let go and support each other.