Together We Can Make It.

From Hope for Today, page 203:

"Unity was a foreign idea to me as a child. I never felt as though I were part of a family. It felt more like a bunch of strangers living in the same house. At best, my family had poor communication or none at all. It seemed no one was available to help me. In fact, I usually was the receiptient of criticisms and complaints. Instead of feeling united with my family, I felt isolated and alone."

I can relate to that. In order to be able to feel unity with other people, I must be able to at least begin to trust. I didn't trust anyone when I came into program. I was carrying too much pain, and I was too self-absorbed to be able to understand the ways in which my own behaviors contributed to my misery.

I went along for quite a while unable to trust any idividuals in my group, but I could trust the group as a whole, if that makes any sense - the whole being larger than the sum of its parts. I could feel a power in the rooms of Al-Anon, although I couldn't have named it.

And when I was at the tables of Al-Anon, I felt peaceful in a way new to me, and valued. I felt heard. I didn't talk at first, I was too embarassed and ashamed and self-conscious, but when I did speak, no one interrupted me - I was allowed to speak my piece, and I was allowed to decide when I was finished speaking.

I could understand what everyone else was saying, and I could feel compasssion for their grief and sorrow, and delight in their triumphs. Trust established itself like the fog in the Carl Sandburg poem, coming in "on little cat feet," silently padding in, unnoticed, while I was busy paying attention to the wisdom so freely offered.

This reading closes with this reminder:

"A feeling of unity is as close as the nearest Al-Anon meeting."