This post could also be called “The importance of meetings.”
Last week on the actual day of my anniversary I almost missed it. For the first
time in years I didn’t feel a big rush on my special day. In past years my
recovery anniversary day was Special. I chose my outfit carefully, I let
nothing bother me, and I wrote a code word on my agenda at work to remind me
that “Nothing matters today—it’s my anniversary.”
But last week there was none of that. I was just not feeling
it. I had to remind myself to remind my husband, and I made myself do an extra
special gratitude list. But still…
…and then today, at my home group, I chaired the meeting,
and it has made all the difference. Part of it was talking, and part was having
friends with me, and part was hearing myself tell parts of my story. But it was
also the experience of what we do in meetings: we give and we receive.
I spoke the gratitude and then I felt it. I spoke the
miracle of recovery and then I felt it. I spoke about who I had been, what
happened and who I am today and I felt the miracle inside me. This incredible
gift, this thing I was too sick to choose or hope for all those years ago, the goodness
of this life and of these practices and habits we have as recovering people. It
came to me when I spoke it in a meeting.
Oh those folding chairs in church basements—where the magic
happens.
No comments:
Post a Comment