Second Time Around
Moved to task the Internet Committee to strengthen local website meeting information so that the burden of facilitating contact with newcomers and members becomes more of a local function than a SAICO function.
Dan N. was my sponsor. He died on June 22nd at his home in Kimberling City, MO. Having tried unsuccessfully to work the program on my own my first five years in SA, I decided after a terrifying night of acting out that I needed to work the Steps with someone who was successfully staying sober, had a way of solving his problems that worked, and had a peace of mind that I didn’t have. Dan had what I wanted, and was willing to share what he had with me.
Although I had finally gotten sober for several months, I was still very disturbed by old resentments and fears, and was dragging my feet on the Step I was supposedly working on. One day, after expressing frustration over my stagnation to my sponsor, he suggested that if I did some sort of service it would raise the ante in my program.
I’ve always had an approach-avoidance relationship with working the Steps. I always feel great after having done some writing on a Step, but it can take quite a long time for me to stop the squirrel cage long enough to actually sit down and start writing. The fact that I took five years to work the first three Steps in the program tells me that I wasn’t in any great hurry to recover from my self-destructive behaviors and attitudes.
I left the ways of the old life behind. Now I ride with the gulls in the stream, Among the wayward sirens singing. To whom do you prefer to turn?
It was fear that brought me into recovery, But fear will not keep me sober.
When I sit in meetings listening to others sharing their personal issues, I have a tendency to compare myself to what they are describing. In doing this I miss the point of my recovery. My personal truth is that listening to someone else’s difficulties makes me feel comfortable that there is a group where I can express the same frustrations. I really loved that at first.
Yesterday God gave me an Eleventh Step prayer. At the time, I was in my head, fussing over one of my sons, making an inventory of all the things I wanted for him. It was a typical dad-list, including things like a better job, a better education, a better place to live, and a meaningful relationship.
Last week a guy who had just moved to the area attended our meeting for the first time. Afterwards he commented, “It is so nice to walk into a group I have never attended and feel immediately at home.” As good as it must have felt to him to say that, it felt even better to us to hear it. What greater compliment could a group receive from a newcomer?
I suffer from a sort of hyper-vigilance. Something in me wants to identify and define every object, every person, every angle and surface in my physical environment. My ears are open; my eyes are taking in the very texture of things around me. This drive to know everything that’s going on around me could be a useful trait if I were Batman and dwelt in Gotham City.
