One-Hundred, Do I Hear a Hundred Dollars?
An open letter to my Oklahoma City SA and S-Anon friends! You provided a first class convention, hotel, meeting location, and down-home hospitality for the July 2004 convention.
Danger: Taking Recovery for Granted
When I was a boy growing upon the farm, I was a very private, shy person, and it was very hard for me to ask anyone about sex. So when my neighbor introduced me to sexual activity, I was ashamed to talk to anyone except the priest in the confessional.
Dear ESSAY
Here is a selection of comments we have received with renewals for the ESSAY.
What’s Going On in SA
At SAICO in Tennessee, we are entering the summer season with a positive, upbeat outlook on life. The weather is better and things are looking up. The deficit that we had to carry for the last two years has shrunk to about $1,000 since the first quarter.
Recovery in Africa
After 20 years in AA, I joined SA in 1997. Because I was knowledgeable about the Twelve Step program, I thought this would be easy. I just needed to admit I was powerless over lust and that my life was unmanageable. All would be well. I was totally wrong.
Step Six
Step Six requires quiet contemplation of the work we have done. There are several questions on pages 75 & 76 of the Big Book. These are not rhetorical questions! The foundation is complete willingness. The cement is our common solution. The cornerstone is coming to believe in a Power greater than ourselves. The keystone is Step Three.
Rule 62
New Format for an SA Meeting Good evening. My name is _______________, and I am a recovering sexaholic. Welcome to this meeting of Sexaholics Anonymous.
A Channel of Peace
This opening phrase of our version of the St. Francis prayer offers me a degree of comfort and hope unlike any other prayer. Whether sitting in my chair for morning meditation or out walking the dog, those words begin by centering me on “Lord” rather than “me.” For this addict, that’s the best possible first step toward serenity.
Expectations Are Premeditated Resentments
I identified with this expression the first time I heard it. How often had I worked myself into a lather of rage because people weren’t doing things MY way? How often had I sunk into despair because I was sure life was not working out well? The answer to each question was, “Every day!”
Birth to a New Life
I just hit nine months of sobriety. I knew it was getting close, but I didn’t expect it quite this soon. This got me thinking: what good is counting anyway? I once had sixteen months, and it vanished overnight. I actually have only 24 hours—since yesterday. Tomorrow, it could be gone in a few minutes.
