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.