In December 2013, after months of planning and anticipation, eight SA members finally gathered in Istanbul, Turkey, at the intersection of Europe and Asia, in the shadow of St. Sophia Cathedral and the Blue Mosque. Four more unlikely countries coming together would have been hard to imagine—we were three from Russia, two from Iran, two from the UK, and one from the US.
I’m Dennis and I’m an alcoholic. I’m sharing with you in this issue of ESSAY because I have the extraordinary honor of serving you as a trusted servant—as a Class A (non-sexaholic) Trustee. I’ve believed for some time now that trusted servants are those who earn the trust of those they serve, rather than the other way around. With that in mind, I would like to share a bit about myself, in the hope of earning your trust.
My name is Tom M.; I’ve been sexually sober since December 2007. As I work the Steps and continue in the SA fellowship, I find that my life is so much better. An important part of my recovery has been the serenity prayer. A key concept of this prayer is that I need to “accept the things I cannot change”—and, since I can change very little around me, I need to focus on acceptance.
I’m now eight years sober, thanks to the grace of my Higher Power, the help of my sponsor, and the encouragement of program meetings. I have not seen many beatific moments in my recovery, but there has been steady, plodding growth as I work my program one day at a time.
This autumn, I’ve been raking leaves in the yard and on the driveway. As I pull the piles of leaves together and get ready to put them in the wheelbarrow, I find the same refrain running through my head: “I want to quit doing this!” In practice, I just keep raking.
Hamburg, Germany at Christmastime! I had the good fortune to visit this beautiful city in early December, as part of a trade delegation of about 35 folks—mainly elected officials, business people, and government types from our region.
When I came back to SA in 2010, I think I was spiritually dead. The White Book’s description of spiritual death described me exactly. Although religious, I was deeply depressed and isolated. I had just crashed my way out of yet another career and yet another marriage. I was ready to die. I had survived a suicide attempt.
As hard it was to admit that I am an addict, it was equally hard to admit that I am insane. However, based on Google’s second definition of insanity—“extreme foolishness or irrationality”—I clearly am. Everything about my addiction has been foolish or irrational.
The other day a friend called me with a question. He said that, at an SA meeting he attended the day before, he discovered that he had the most sobriety in the room. He asked me whether he could learn anything from a meeting where he has the most sobriety. I told him that—no matter how much sobriety I have—God is able to speak to me through other members with less sobriety.
Dear God, A simple and profound “Thank You” for this gift of sobriety (as defined in SA 191-193)—for in the middle of a daily task, I am struck with simple and utter gratitude for not having acted out for the past nine months.
