A Dose of Humility

Since I have nothing else to do I figured I'd post again. Unusual for me!
Yesterday I went to my regular BB meeting and as God would have it we were reading Step 9 starting with the section about how we have to make direct amends. A mumbled apology will not satisfy. The line that got me! What also stuck out was the spiritual part that we must stand on our feet, we do not crawl before Anyone and that our main purpose is to be of service to others. Several people shared on the promises that start to come if we are thorough as well.
Since I got sick in 2002 I have had nothing but time to give to others and my sponsor has told me time and again it's a blessing to be of service to others! I rarely ask others to be of service to me.
I'm still laid up form my surgery. I'm not only on crutches and can barely walk but I can't drive either. I've had several doctors' appts. the last week or so and have a few more coming up. I also need to get to my meetings. I think you can guess where this is going.
At the same time my sponsor left the state for the winter so I needed to get a winter sponsor. Man oh man! Talk about piling it on!
So here is where the training comes in.....
I asked for help!!!!!!
I actually lined up a ride here and a ride there trading a cup of coffee and some fellowship for a lift to the doc or a meeting.
I lined up a winter sponsor so there's no lag time. I am one of those who should not be without guidance!
The thing that amazes me most is at the meeting yesterday a woman came up to me and told me she felt she was a bad AA friend because she hadn't picked me up for anything yet! Little does she know she's getting a call this morning!
Just because I've been sober for a long time now does not mean I don't have to practice some humility, swallow my pride (the I can do it myself attitude) and ask for help. Being laid up is a good reminder forceful of that.
Thanks God, and Thanks AA for teaching me H.O.W.
HJ&F in Ohio

Who says there's no meeting bank?????

I had major surgery a few days ago. The Doctor removed a joint implant the was put in about a year and a half ago. Go figure that an alcoholic would have an allergic reaction to the material! So aside from the pain factor I was told I'd have to be non weight bearing for the next 4 weeks. I hate crutches.
I'm one of those who are blessed to be able to get to at least one meeting every day. When I was working I only made about 5 a week. I look at meetings as my gas station. I fill up as often as possible. If I can't get to one at least I know my tank is pretty full.
Till today it had been 4 whole days since I'd been to a meeting. Thankfully I had been making regular deposits in my meeting bank so I was able to draw on those to keep my sanity. When my friend Helen picked me up today I hobbled out to the car,into the meeting and refilled.
I firmly believe that I have a meeting bank and never know which meeting will carry me through that rough spot so I better keep going to as many as I can.
PS. Since it's gratitude month Thanks to All of my fellow Alcoholics for keeping me sober One Day At A Time
Have a Happy Thanksgiving

A LESSON RE-LEARNED FROM OUR GPS

Last Christmas our grandkids gave us a GPS, thinking it would aid our travels. Michael and I looked at each other, saying, " What are we gonna do with this? How long have we lived without one and get around just fine!" With a closed mind, and a few glances at the manual, we made a couple half-hearted attempts to start it and decided the darn thing didn't work anyway.
Dutifully we displayed it in the car when we went back east; not that we used it, but as a visual testimony of appreciation of the gift. When one of Michael's nephews asked how we liked it and told us how much he used his, we had to confess that we didn't think it worked. He looked at it, tapped the screen a few times, and said, "There, you just didn't have the fweeewww activated. It tells you all about it in the manual."

Shortly thereafter we set a destination in an unfamiliar city on the GPS and to our astonishment a little figure of our car crawled along the highways on the screen and a reassuring voice told us, "In .03 miles turn left onto U.S Route 20." At one point Michael decided he didn't like that route and defiantlyturned onto another road. Patiently the voice said, "Recalculating route,"and started giving new directions. Before we knew it we arrived at our destination without a hitch. For the next few trips we intentionally made wrong turns trying to confound the thing, but each time it calmly redirected us. Often we mused on how a machine could keep track of millions of cars going their million ways and still know where we should make our next turn. Eventually we gave up trying to figure it out and now we just rely on its directions being the best choice.

Laughingly we decided the process evolved a lot like our introduction to AA. At first we were suspicious of AA's ability to better our life. We avoided reading the instructions (the Big Book) and couldn't believe The Program would show us the way out of our misery. Often we defiently went our own route and found it took far longer to get to a state of peace than it did for others who followed The Steps as suggested. When we asked for help, got a sponsor, and stopped trying to figure out how The Program works, or our Higher Power, it has worked just fine.

Hello to our friends in the East. We drove many miles through snow so we got our taste of winter, and today thought of you all as we sat by the pool enjoying extended summer.

Carrying the Message

Yesterday morning I went to a "new" meeting for me, a 7:30a.m. early risers group, and wow...there were THREE people whom I remember from my very first days of AA, when I was getting to meetings, but drinking inbetween. I couldn't remember a thing those fellow travelers had shared, but I vividly recalled the feeling of welcome and hope they gave.

I told them this, and all four of us grinned with joy, as I let them know it took nearly five years before I could get sober in AA, but that it did happen, the promises did appear, and here I am, carrying the message of recovery. How great, also, that there were two newcomers there, not free of alcohol yet, but coming to meetings. When I share my story, when I broadcast it like a handful of grain, I have to remember that it is freely scattered, and that I have no idea who will hear what, if anything, but that hopefully those newcomers in my presence will absorb the message of hope I now have.

My "job" is to keep showing up and helping to carry the message, so that our awesome program can continue to flow like this stream in Madera Canyon.

Servant, not Master

Last week, I was asked to post something and all I could come up with was a poem (Behind the Counter) that appears below. Today, reading an entry in the little recovery booklet, As Bill Sees It, I became inspired to add another thought. On page 259, titled "Servant, Not Master," the reading emphasizes spiritual matters over material goods, an issue that this alcoholic struggles with in life. What Bill Wilson writes, follows: "One of A.A.'s Loners is an Australian sheepman who lives two thousand miles from the nearest town, where yearly he sells his wool. In order to be paid the best prices he has to get to town during a certain month. But when he heard that a big regional A.A. meeting was to be held at a later date when wool prices would have fallen, he gladly took a heavy financial loss in order to make his journey then. That's how much an A.A. meeting means to him." I liked that. For the sheepman, the selling of his wool was the servant, not master, in his life. How can we learn from that A.A. loner? Follow in his footsteps and serve, rather than be served. That is something for me to think about, in my own desire to stay sober.

Back To My Roots

This summer vacation my husband and I decided to return to our home state of New Jersey for two weeks of fun in the sun at the beach. I'm a firm believer that just because I'm on vacation does not mean I'm on vacation from AA.
I was lucky enough to be able to get to a meeting almost every day at 7 am. To my delight they were literature meetings. Big Book, As Bill Sees It, Step, Grapevine, etc... What a way to start the day! The regular attendees numbered around 40-50!
For those of us that have relocated in sobriety it's always a tough deal. For me I'm still dealing with the feeling that there is no AA like Jersey AA and I've been in Ohio for 12 years!
Being a small person with a BIG personality (that's the description I've heard recently and have adopted!) it only took me couple of days of handshaking to get to know most of the room!
I have many fond memories of my early years in sobriety running around the state going on speaking commitments,detox commitments,picnics, checking out new meetings and all kinds of other outings with a whole crew of other newcomers. N.J. is much smaller than Ohio and lends itself easily to in state travel. Oh! and did I mention that I was almost 20 years younger as well?!
Anyway I felt really grounded knowing that no matter where I go there you are and for that I am truly grateful. I know that all I have to do is reach out my hand and you will be there for me in the spirit of the fellowship.
When I moved here to Ohio I made a commitment to do a 90 in 90, get a Sponsor right away, find a Home Group and get active.
The most amazing thing about going back to my roots was in coming home to Ohio I realized I have roots here too. It took a while but I love the fellowship I have found here. I have made many fast friends just like the book promises as I trudge the road of Happy Destiny. I have a Sponsor I wouldn't trade for anything and of course the world's best Home Group.
I guess to sum it all up I am home in Alcoholic's Anonymous no matter where I go!
Thanks AA.

Behind the counter 

Even though I rail against

this job at times,

I do the tasks well,

serving this one and that,

answering their requests

for meat, cheese, directions.

 

There is a nobility in service,

the masters say:

“Feed people. Serve people.

Love everyone. Tell the truth.”

Do my colleagues do that?

I think they do, mindfully.

 

Not like me, with too much thought.

I know I am here to be taught.

 

Just yesterday, a customer

I call “the hello lady”

got angry, again,

called me ‘the slowest woman in town.’

Maybe she was referring to someone else

in the line that she overstepped.

I took offense, yet, returned with

all she needed - kindness.

 

The cross-dressers are the best.

Today, a man in a purple scarf waited for me

as I served him.

It felt as if I were the one honored, instead.

We shared a smile and a conversation,

and I don’t even remember

what he bought.

 

At times I fill up with memories

of arrogance when I rushed through my own life,

overstepping boundaries,

ignoring a kindness, or a query.

My own needs were oh, so urgent,

When time, I thought, was in my control.

 

The cell phone folks are the worst.

I vow to drown mine!

 

Like pets in the kennel, 

the customers are all different.

Some are polite, or curious,

While others just snarl and bite.

It’s not their fault, it’s the nature

of the lives we lead.

Yet everyone, even you, eats.                        

 

by Pat Magee 12/04 

JEWELS FOR AMENDS

My mother died during the worst period of my addiction. When she married my father, she took over a house that already contained my grandmother, Dad's oldest brother, two small children of Dad's sister who died in childbirth, and the multiple duties of a farm wife. She was a loving person who never complained and always had a song or a smile on her lips. I was the third (and destined to be middle) child, the first girl. It soon became apparent that I was never going to be the cute little curl-um and dress-um-up child I believe she had longed for, but once that became clear, she let me be the person I willfully chose to be. And willfullness marked the next decades of my life. I thought I was better than my roots, and once I left home for college I chose a lifestyle of which I knew my parents, who did not drink, would never approve. I eloped after college and during the next years my husband of that time and I slid through the levels of an alcoholic marriage. I brought her grandson for brief visits but basicly denied her a relationship with him in an futile effort to hide the chaos going on in my marriage.

Eight years after her death I got sober. Once I divorced myself from chaos and started to appreciate the values I had been raised with, I felt a powerful remorse for how I neglected my relationship with my mother. How to make amends to such a gentle spirit? By that time I had found the comfort of a new marriage blessed by my family of origin, and Michael and I had found the serenity of a small house in the country with a large garden and fruit trees and berries in abundance. I treasured the peace of coming home to our "farm" after a stressful day working with addicted adolescents. I remembered the hours my mother had spent in a hot kitchen canning vgetables and fruit from our garden to provide for our winter fare. I could see the pride she took in the colorful rows of cans that lined our cellar shelves. Best of all were the days she made jams and jellies and we kids got to eat the foamy skimmings the next morning on our toast. It occurred to me what a fitting tribute to my mother making jelly would be. So each fall I go through the ritual of gathering the fruits and vegetables, experience the hard work of peeling them and preparing jars, scalding my face over the bubbling sweet liquids as I stir the jellies feeling connected to my mother. And surely, as with most amends, I receive more than I give. Not only do the rows of colorful jars delight my eye and give me a feeling of acomplishment, but also these "amends" become gifts for my grandchildren and special friends.

Doing What Works

This little Screech Owl uses the sprinkler near my fishpond for a refreshing shower nearly every afternoon. I really did a double take the first time I watched, just assuming that owls and water don't mix. I think he discovered something that works for him.

Early on in the program I had misconceptions about the effectiveness of the suggested livestyle offered freely to me, too. How could a bunch of such simple behaviors give me a life free from alcohol and its killer effects?

Now, I know from personal experience that the AA program works, when I use it. Today, things are going smoothly, thanks to a higher power, going to meetings, working with others and not drinking. Where I recognize my alcoholism in times like this is that thoughts come (and go) that I don't need meetings, that a particular incident is too small to require a 10th step from me, that I don't have time for this and that anymore...glad I can laugh at myself and keep doing what works. It is kind of humorous, this thinking...kind of like, "I don't need to brush my teeth anymore, because I did such a good job on them last year." Yea for meetings and fellowship that help me realize I'm not the only one whose brain needs restoring to sanity.

HARVESTING THE PROGRAM

This morning we walked through our garden, as we do most every morning, and found two tomatoes had turned from a stubborn green to orange overnight. First tomatoes of the season; what joy! This summer has been unusually cool in the northeast and heat loving vegetables are slow to mature. For us, gardening is a nurturing activity. It gives us plenty of physical exercise, it encourages us to eat a healthy diet, it lends a spirit of anticipation to each day as we wait for the seeds to grow and at this end of the cycle for produce to ripen, and as we do the mindless activity of weeding or cultivating, it is a wonderful place to meditate.

Another perk of gardening is that it keeps us constantly aware of our powerlessness in the face of nature's whims. Gardening is not a necessity for us; it's a hobby, but when I was growing up, the food the garden provided was what the family ate, and what we froze or canned, was a major part of our winter food. Now, if we have a year when crows destroy the corn, or rabbits eat every beat, bean, or carrot before it has a chance to grow, or the garden drowns from too much rain, or dies from drought, I wonder how my family always had vegetables on the table, and we never went hungry. Our garden makes us grateful for a sobriety that has taught us the joy of simple pleasures.