Speaking At A Meeting.

Last night, after the meeting, I was standing with my sponsor, and a woman who I hadn't seen before came up to say to me, "You could be a stand-up comedienne." She smiled at me, and walked away. I turned to my sponsor and asked, "Why would she say that to me, I didn't say anything funny tonight, did I?"

My sponsor said a few things about my delivery, and honesty, and left me feeling somewhat more understanding of what that had been about, but not much. I don't plan what I'm going to say, I just open my mouth, and start speaking about the topic, and allow my Higher Power to direct the flow. Most times, if you were to ask me afterwards what I'd said, I couldn't tell you.

It's like writing a blog post here - I may have a slight idea of what I'd like to get across in my writing, but once I've begun, it goes where it will, and I follow. When I was new in Al-Anon, I felt very anxious about speaking at a meeting, and it seemed of paramount importance that I get it "right." I judged myself so harshly, that it was a small jump in thought, to assume that everyone listening was doing the same - judging.

I've learned that what other people are thinking of me is none of my business. My job is to clean my side of the street, keep it neat and tidy through practising the Steps and Traditions, and whatever other people get from my shares is not up to me. This allows me to not worry if the newcomer is hearing what they need to hear - they have their own Higher Power, and things will work out for them with my only input being my sharing at meetings.

I've often begun speaking, thinking I was about to talk about one thing, and found myself a mile down a side road, talking about something else entirely, which somehow is closely related to the topic, but for some reason, seems to be what I need to talk about that night. There have been many times when I've surprised myself by what I've shared - I may not have realised I had that outlook, or still carried that doubt or guilt, until I hear myself saying at a meeting that this is how it is for me right now.

Today and yesterday I was worrying about the future, how long do I have to live? What will my health be like in six months? What end am I facing?

I had to stop and say to myself, "Live in the moment!" repeatedly, and force my mind into that place, as I mixed our home-made muesli in the giant tub we keep for just that purpose. Later, we went out for a nice long ramble around downtown, and to the bead store, where I bought enough findings to make myself four pairs  of earrings. I've always wanted to make my own earrings, but have never gotten around to it. Now seemed like an excellent time.

Walking and talking with Robert brought me sharply into the present - his company is such a gift and a pleasure, that I can easily revel in the moment. Tonight, I have my new step group to enjoy. Life in the now, is a glorious adventure; it's my choice as to whether or not I live there.

When I speak at a meeting, I try to allow myself to be a conduit for my Higher Power; I do my best to keep my ego in the back seat, and let my HP do the steering. I am no longer overwhelmed with insecurity, and I don't give what I've got to say, nearly the level of importance I once did.  I've said most of it many times before, in the 30 years I've been in program, and I'm grateful for the chance  to listen and learn.

Active Listening.

In one of his July emails, my brother mentioned that when his father (my adoptive father) was a small child, he thought there was a holiday by the name of "Forchuly." He was raised in the Bronx, and that's how everyone sounded to him, when they were talking about the Fourth of July.

It started me thinking about how difficult it can be to understand someone at a meeting, when they have a very soft voice, or don't enunciate well. Over the years, there has been the odd person who may as well have been speaking another language, for all I was able to understand a word of their share. At first, this annoyed me. Why didn't they speak clearly, or raise their voice a bit? Time and experience has taught me that for some people, that is all they can manage; fear, or a wobbly self-image, inhibits them.

I may not be able to hear what they say, but that doesn't mean I can't project the same acceptance and love towards them as I would to anyone else - we are equals in the rooms of Al-Anon. 

When I chose many years ago to volunteer for the local Crisis Line, I was trained in what they termed "active listening." It requires effort to learn to listen with our focus and attention solely upon the other person, and not upon what we want to say next, what we need to get for dinner, what happened at work to cause us anxiety.

I'm grateful that I did my stint on the Crisis Line before I joined Al-Anon; I think it helped me to listen more carefully than I may have been able to otherwise. When I was a newcomer, I had no concept of how to go about implementing the wisdom imparted to me, and, many times, I was in such a state of anxiety, anger, depression or frustration that I heard what was said at the meeting, then forgot it all the moment I walked out the door to go back home to the alcoholic.

But that early training in focused listening has stood me in good stead. I believe it has helped me in my sponsorship, in relating to others at meetings, and in being empathetic to those who still suffer.

Listening to newcomers takes me sharply back, to the terrified and confused woman I was when I was new.

I try to extend a warm welcome. I don't leap upon them to fill their ears with all the advantages of Al-Anon, because I was so shy and self-conscious that I found all that warmth and love a little too much to take at first, and would rush out the door after the Serenity Prayer, so as to avoid being hugged. I had no trust, and hugging relative strangers made my weird meter leap to "overload."

Listening well is an art. I think many old-timers in program are good listeners. We all need a safe place, and someone with whom we can speak, knowing that our privacy is assured, our sorrows are shared, and we can unburden ourselves in the knowledge that we won't be interrupted.

 An Al-Anon meeting is a safe place.

Spiritual Nudges.

For the last couple of weeks or so, I've been thinking about going back to a Tuesday night meeting that I always enjoyed. I have cut my meeting attendance down to once a week, but I've been thinking about this meeting lately, and remembering how satisfying it was for me, because I really like a lot of the members, many of whom attend faithfully each week, giving the meeting good continuity. It's a meeting with a lot of laughing, which I think is a sign of health and humility.

Then, yesterday afternoon at the office operating committee meeting, my first since the operation, I met up with one woman for whom this Tuesday night meeting is her home group, and after giving me a big warm hug, she asked, "Are you going to be coming back to our meeting again soon?"

Her question, coming on top of the meeting having been in my thoughts quite a bit, made me decide to start attending again. Once the decision was made, I realised that I am feeling a fair amount of delighted anticipation. I enjoy the positive nature and good humour expressed there. When I moved back here, I'd gone to a meeting within a night or two of arriving, but didn't like it particularly, as I was pretty much ignored. Now, this doesn't matter for me, because I've been in Al-Anon for 29 years, I knew there were another 10-12 meetings in a week here for me to check out, and I know full well that each meeting has a different flavour. But it bothered me because no-one asked if there were any visitors or newcomers, and I believe that's an important part of welcoming newcomers to our meetings - that we make the effort to acknowledge and welcome new people, trying to ease the way for them to feel comfortable and at home in the rooms.

This Tuesday night meeting was the second meeting I went to when I was first here, and as soon as I entered the room, a woman smiled at me, patted the empty chair beside her, and invited me to join her. She asked if I was new to Al-Anon, and when she found out I was a long-timer, we had an amusing conversation before the meeting began. It's a warm, welcoming meeting, whose members do their best to make it safe for all who attend.

There's a strong emphasis on the Steps and Traditions, and I always felt good when I walked back out to my car afterward.

So I'm going to pay attention to this spiritual nudge, and next Tuesday evening, I will be sitting in a church basement, listening carefully to all the people whose experience, strength and hope is such a gift and a blessing for me.

I've taken the pockets apart on the winter coat I'm sewing for myself, there was something about them which I found unsatisfactory, but only slightly. Nevertheless, over the many years that I've been sewing for myself, I've learned that I'm far better off to unpick and re-sew, than tell myself it's good enough - were I to do the latter, it would bother me for the life of the garment. Patience is a virtue.

Part of Al-Anon's teachings are learning when I need to let go, and when I need to re-do.

What Do I Have To Offer?

In Al-Anon, a sponsor can be of invaluable help. For those of us who start out with firmly closed minds and determined ideas, a sponsor can, with a combination of direct speaking, humour and encouragement, create a safe enough environment that we can begin to step out from behind our social mask of "Oh, fine thank you!" to reveal the true feelings we carry. These may include rage, fear, frustration, loneliness, or despair that we will ever attain the serenity about which we hear so much.

When I was first asked to sponsor someone, I was terrified; I couldn't see what on earth she thought I had to give. I still often felt like I was barely managing to maintain my newfound serenity. When I asked her, a long time later, it turned out that she liked my ability to laugh. She felt as though she'd lost her sense of humour completely, and she wanted it back more than anything else she could imagine; she wanted to be able to howl with laughter. This member felt that she'd evolved into a dry and serious woman who could barely muster a fake chuckle, and she wanted to be able to laugh until her eyes were wet, and her stomach muscles hurt. She remembered laughing like that in childhood, and early adulthood, before her marriage to an alcoholic. The constant financial problems, other stresses, strains and heartbreak, had slowly eroded her ability to find humour in everyday life.

When I hear those who have a strong program declare that they don't sponsor, because they don't belive they've got anything to give to a sponsee, I will sometimes tell them this story. Perhaps they have the idea that they need to be deeply involved in Al-Anon, with many years of experience, and lofty things to share at meetings, before they will be of value as a sponsor. For me, it was my ability to see the humour in the small things we observe, the silly choices we can make, the ironies of our behavior, that were attractive to my first sponsee. She wanted to hang out with someone who laughed often, in the hopes that she'd be able to regain her sense of humour, and she did. We used to have long involved philosophical discussions punctuated by helpless laughing fits. She told me many times over the years that it was my ability to laugh at my own craziness which made it possible for her to loosen her iron grip on her self-control, and let go of her desire to be perfect.

So please, don't refuse to sponsor because you don't think you've got anything to offer - what you have in abundance, may be just what another member so desperately needs.

Revealing Ourselves.

When new to Al-Anon, I was astounded by the way people would speak up in a meeting and reveal their emotional lives, and their thinking. I could not begin to imagine myself doing that - tell all these relative strangers about my crazed obsessive thinking? I was unable to believe that I could do that, and still be accepted and unconditionally loved. I was sure that their opinion of me would plummet instantly were they given any access whatsoever to the madhouse between my ears.

The first 50 times I mustered the nerve to speak about anything in a meeting, my voice wavered and wobbled, my hands shook, and I drove home afterwards berating myself for having been so honest about my insanity.

I had no ability to grasp that anything I might say would be of any use to anyone, because back then, I had no understanding that it isn't what I am thinking of saying on the subject that matters, but the fact that I can be a conduit for a message from someone's Higher Power. This often happens when I start out talking about one thing, and find myself finishing up speaking about something else entirely, which was nowhere in my head when I began. 

Those seem to be the times that someone will come to me after the meeting and thank me for what I said, and I barely recall what it was that I did say, because it wasn't coming from me. I was being used, as my Higher Power has used so many other people in program to teach me what I need to
learn.

When I reveal myself in a meeting, I am opening myself to the miracle of Al-Anon, and I am practising humility. One thing I've heard time and again from newcomers to Al-Anon, is that when I admit that I still do whatever it is, still struggle with this or that, and they find out that I've been in Al-Anon for 28 years now, they feel much more comfortable with their own character quirks, and their own struggles.

Revealing myself honestly is what makes this program real to newcomers. This is one of the few places in life where a person can admit to being bonkers, and the roomful of people listening will burst into a warm and delighted laughter.

Like Finding A Lost Friend

Reading a new post from Mr. Sponsor Pants  today enlivened me, he's another of what I think of as "long-time dedicated 12-Steppers" who has most likely, not much clarity on the way his sharing changes lives.

When we are willing, in a meeting, on a blog, in sponsorship, to reveal the primal us, we give to another, a gift impossible to name - shared humanity, perhaps. Safety in knowing that for all of us, the new and the old-timers, those of us who struggle furiously, those who paddle and splash a bit to see what happens, and those who open both hands against our "knowing" because the wisdom tells us to do it, counter-intuitive to what the me-brain wants, that we are not alone, there is always someone who has walked that path before us, who is willing to turn and extend their hand.

That hand may be sweaty, sticky, or cold to the touch, but the fingers curl around our own, and we feel the Spirit in the offering.

Thank you for all who give of themselves, however they may do it, for the sake of the ones who come behind, and the sake of their own sanity, it matters not why, it is the giving.

I pray to stay open and honest.

Stages of Spiritual Growth

I've heard it said that spiritual growth in 12-Step consists of three phases - the first phase is "Help me!" We come into Al-Anon self-absorbed and seeking relief from our pain. As the introduction read out at meetings states: "Living with alcoholism is too much for most of us..."

We've often reached a stage of helpless anger and frustration, with no idea of what we need, but knowing that we need help. We become willing to surrender to the understanding that we can't make the alcoholic stop drinking..

The second stage of spiritual growth in 12-Step is "Grant me..." we reach this stage when we have some idea of our character defects, how they make our lives more difficult and hinder our search for serenity. At this stage, we've given up the blaming, ratiionalising, justifying, and see ourselves without harshness or judgement, simply with clarity - "this is who I am." We ask to be granted relief from our character defects that we might find peace, yes, but also that we might be a better person - we begin to look outward as well as inward, to understand what it might be like for others to deal with us.

The third stage of spiritual growth in 12-Step is "Use me."  We reach a place of quiet knowing that just as our Higher Power uses people in our life to teach and sustain us, so can we too be used. Before a meeting with a sponsee, I say a little prayer: "Please make me worthy of this person's trust."
I'm asking my HP to help me to set aside my own character defects so that the message can get through to them as they need it. I know that I have some useful techniques to offer, but the wisdom is 12-Step wisdom, not mine. I didn't originate these teachings, I received them from my sponsor and other people in program, and I'm grateful to have the chance to pass them on, but they don't make me wise. I'm not an expert in Al-Anon, I'm the same flawed human I ever have been, but I have heard some neat stuff, and if you have the time to listen, I'm excited to tell you about it.

Thoughts about Sponsorship.

To sponsees:

A sponsor isn't doing their job if they aren't irritating you on a regular basis. This might be because they're harping at you about getting together to work the Steps for your first time, or it might be because they insist upon pointing out certain annoying facts, such as, "Isn't that the twelfth job you've had this year?"

Don't pick a sponsor who reminds you of a family member. Ditto for accepting a sponsee. I did that once, and found myself gritting my teeth when she'd use the same phrases which made steam erupt from my ears when I heard them issuing from the alcholic's lips.  It's good to have a little detachment in this relationship.

Be willing to listen, if you want to learn. Allow yourself to be teachable.

To sponsors:

Remember how afraid you were, when you were very new. Be as kind and loving as you are able - dish out love in great heaping armfuls. Be willing to repeat yourself endlessly without getting angry if the message isn't getting through - it took you a while, didn't it? Make them laugh. Laughter helped me to swallow some difficult realisations about myself, when I was working with my first sponsor.

Pray to be a conduit for their Higher Power. Read the books so you can say, "Courage to Change has a great reading on that," and find it to show them. They're going to need that reading some night when it's too late to call anyone, and they can't find their way alone.

Open yourself to the wisdom of humility.

Recognising Our Own Patterns of Behavior.

Last night we had friends over for dinner, one of whom brings his beautiful springer spaniel.  After dinner, we were sitting around the fire, and we watched as his dog picked up a stuffed rabbit, and headed off down the hall, in that mysteriously purposeful way dogs have, even indoors. We asked, "Where's he going?"

Our friend answered, from where he was sprawled in the depths of a chair, "He likes to snoop."

That got us talking about dog behavior, trying to figure out why our little female dog won't share any of her toys with our male dog, yet his dog can walk into our house and do whatever he pleases, even with her favourite toy, a small stuffed rabbit. If this rabbit gets mislaid, falls to the floor and gets kicked under the couch, she cannot rest until it's retrieved. She comes home from a walk, and runs to make sure it's still safely on the couch where she left it. Yet our friend's dog can walk up and pull it from right under her nose, and she will watch, unconcerned. It can be squeaking non-stop under his vigorous chewing, and she will fall happily asleep on my lap.

But just let our male dog try to wander over and have a little sniff of this rabbit, and she'll leap to correct him with a loud snap! barely missing his nose. Our friend joked that he has enough trouble trying to figure himself out, he's given up trying to figure out the dog.

Later on last night, I was thinking about trying to figure ourselves out, and how intensely difficult that can be, when we have no guidance, or understanding; how pride will always manage to convince us that we don't need to do any changing, because hey, we're fine as we are, right? It's someone else's fault that we aren't happy.

Today, I was reading in the Al-Anon ODAT, page 296:

"The search for self-understanding is a difficult if not impossible, thing to achieve fully. But we can learn a lot about ourselves if we have the courage to face our real motives, without deceiving ourselves with evasions. We can, if we don't allow uneasy guilt feelings to obscure our good qualities, which we must recognise and build upon."

"...the courage to face our real motives, without deceiving ourselves with evasions."  Time and again, what I hear from sponsees, when they get to this point in the process, is: "It's so hard!" And I reply, "Yes, it is hard. It's excruciatingly painful, like peeling a few layers of skin off without anaesthetic. But if you keep going, if you are willing to do this, on the other side, it's freedom, it's a blessing, it's a gift."

I had to be willing to say to that prideful self, that angry fearful self - "Enough. I've had enough of you being in control here - I want something different." I thought that humility was humiliation, and that it was kind of nutty to be always wanting to be more humble. But the more I work this program, the more willing I am to be wrong, to be mistaken, to accept that I have screwed up one more time, and I've been "deceiving myself with evasions"  - when I see that again, and am willing to accept it, make an amend, and work to free myself of that pride, that lack of humility, my daily life, each chance I am offered to become more loving, and to share that love with others, it's impossible to describe the feeling - we have to take it on trust, when we're new, because we can't picture it at all.

I started out in Al-Anon, believing that I hated people - truly, I feared them, and my pride was propping up that shaky fearful self in an attempt to project something that other people would respect. I don't fear people the way I once did.  I want to be loving, to give love and compassion, give whatever comfort and support I can, to be a conduit of God's love. That is truly the best way I can imagine living, and it's so far removed from what I once would have considered success ... not even on the same planet. The joy I have received from this, I can't even describe to you.  Joy, peace, and humility - that's my serenity, and I have received it all through this wonderful program for living.

One Day At A Time - Or One Hour. Or Ten Minutes.

I came across a wonderful quote about writing,  from E.L. Doctorow, but I think it can apply equally as well to working a 12-Step program. He said:

"Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way."

Al-Anon can be like that - we may only be able to see as far as the headlights of illumination given to us by other members, but we can make the whole trip that way the first time, until we become able to light our own way.

Let It Begin With Me, Ch 2.

We're going to a dinner party this evening, at the home of friends we've made since we moved down here. We will be leaving early, so that we can each go to our meetings - a newcomer took the key to open up for my home group this week, and I don't want to leave them sitting all by themselves - attendance can be rather sparse this time of year. I think of this quote from Al-Anon:

"When anyone, anywhere, reaches out for help, let the hand of Al-Anon always be there, and Let It Begin With Me."

I remember my own gratitude, when I was new to program, and living with active alcoholism, that meetings still took place during the holiday season, Those meetings were an hour of sanity and peace - a needed respite from a wildly chaotic home life.

People not in program don't understand, and I don't expect them to. They say, "You can miss a meeting for once, can't you? Especially this time of year?"

I reply, "Actually, no, especially not this time of year."

When I was new, living with active alcoholism, in such awful pain and distress - when I reached out for help, the hand of Al-Anon was always there.

Long-time members left their families and friends for a while, on Christmas Eve, or Christmas day, and went to a meeting.

They drove through bad weather, and holiday traffic: went in to the halls or churches, stamping their feet and shivering with cold, greeting each other with gusto and delight, set up chairs and tables, books and pamphlets, so that when I, (and others just like me) came hesitantly into the room, in the hopes of finding a meeting, we were met with warmth and love - the hand of Al-Anon.

My first year, I was unsure of how it worked, and arrived at the rec centre, wondering if I was going to find a locked room, as I walked down the seemingly endless corridor, to the last room on the right - the door was closed, and had no window - I couldn't tell if it was occupied, or not.

I will remember to my final days, the gush of tears, and the sob which escaped me, when I was halfway down the hall, heard a burst of laughter, and then the door swung open, and out came a woman carrying a coffeepot, heading for the kitchen a few rooms away. She was wearing a Santa hat, a piece of tinsel as a scarf, and she greeted me by calling, "I hope you brought your appetite, girl, there's enough Christmas baking in that room to collapse a table!"

She disappeared into the kitchen, and I ducked into the women's washroom, to get a grip on myself.

After I'd washed my face in cold water, (while telling myself that my eyes didn't really look like little boiled tomatoes they were so red,) I went into the meeting room.

Someone plopped a Santa hat onto my head, another member gave me a tinsel scarf, a third handed me a paper plate, a napkin, and gave a gentle push towards the baking table.

I walked around it, mopping up my tears with my napkin or my sleeve cuff, feeling a gratitude I cannot even begin to describe. I wasn't used to being loved "in a very special way," but even then, so new to Al-Anon, I understood that these women were demonstrating the love and generosity of the Al-Anon program at work in their lives.

Those women, and what them being there that day, meant to me - a lonely desperate newcomer - are one reason that I will be leaving tonight's party early, to attend the Al-Anon meeting.

"When anyone, anywhere, reaches out for help, let the hand of Al-Anon always be there, and Let It Begin With Me."

My Higher Power's Fingerprints Are All Over That.

When I got this computer built for me, I asked for a very fast media program to be installed, because I do a lot of burning of 12-Step speaker cds, for both my, and my husband's, sponsees. His tend to be in rather shaky financial situations if they are newly sober, and might not have their own computer- so they appreciate the AA cds as a resource. When they're having a hard time in the small hours of the night, and don't want to wake someone up, they can put in a cd, and hear program wisdom and humour. It's great to be able to laugh at 4am, when you cannot sleep, and your demons are stirring in their various closets.

One of my husband's sponsees sent a gift for me, home with him last night  - as a thankyou for the cds I've made and shared. When I opened it, I said,

"Oh, you told him how I feel about these, eh?"

"No, no, I didn't, I didn't know he was getting you anything."

There was a short pause while I scarfed a chocolate, and my husband thought, then he laughed, and said:

"His Higher Power told him."

What I find delightful about this little incident, is - I'm not much of a chocolate lover. My spouse can bring home a massive box of mixed chocolates, and I can easily look them over, and not find one that appeals to me. I can buy a chocolate orange, eat one piece, and find it too sweet.

But these, these chocolate seashells with a truffle centre, are a mad passion - I'm crazy for them. I admire their beauty of design, and I adore the taste. I don't know what it is about them, but they are a special love of mine, and a little treat of the holiday season.

A couple of days ago, when we were out grocery shopping, my husband said, "Why don't you get yourself a box of those seashells?" and I found myself replying, "Not yet."

He laughed, and asked what on earth I meant by that? I said I didn't know, but I just didn't want them yet.

Last night, when I opened the present from his sponsee, and saw the box of chocolate seashells, my eyes filled with tears and I got one of those big lumps in my throat - it was so perfect, and so beautiful, that his sponsee had given me those  chocolates as a thankyou gift.

My Higher Power is always working in my life, and when I'm open to it, I see his fingerprints everywhere - on large issues, and on the smallest, most tender of sharings between those of us touched by alcoholism, and fighting our way back.

Bless you all.

Tears As A Gift.

Music has always had a powerful emotional effect upon me, and bagpipes most of all. This morning in my email inbox, was a link to Amazing Grace played by bagpipes - lovely haunting music which brings me to tears.

As a person who was frozen in my emotions when I came into Al-Anon, with almost nothing left to feel except fear and anger, it was a new and rather alarming experience to find myself moved to tears, by the words of those other brave souls around the table, who shared of themselves so freely. I wept continuously throughout my first few meetings, and those hot tears pouring down my face, with all my efforts to control them completely useless, were, I now believe, a gift from my Higher Power.

Had I not had that experience, which left me rather shaky, but at the same time, understanding that in those rooms was a power I could not articulate, but could feel, I might not have continued to attend meetings. I was very hardened, and closed-off to other people - had I not been ripped open emotionally, so that against all my will, I was exposed in my pain, and in return received such a loving welcome from those women, I don't know where I'd be today.

There's a person in one of my regular meetings, who moves me to tears almost every time they speak - their own emotion is so much on the surface, and their experience of Al-Anon has been so life-changing and so powerful. It humbles me to hear the amazing difference that this wonderful program has made to this person.

It takes me back. I remember when I was that newcomer, whose voice shook, and whose tears were always right at the surface, regardless of how I struggled to subdue them; they would not be subdued. Inside the meeting rooms of Al-Anon, all my usual defenses were ineffective - I could be no-one but my true self. And believe me, I tried. I would promise myself as I drove to a meeting, that this time, I was not going to cry if I shared. And then I'd begin to talk, and my defenses would collapse, and there I'd be, emotionally naked once again. It was agonising, and it was the only way.

Short-Supply Thinking, Chapter 2

When I was very new to sponsorship, and still unsure about where was the defining line between "taking care" and "care-taking," I agreed to sponsor a woman who taught me the difference between the two. (When I stop to think before speaking, to consider my words, so that I do not thoughtlessly cause another person pain,  I'm being sensitive to them, and taking care. When I feel the need to "fix" their unhappiness by any means at my disposal, including twisting myself into pretzel shape, which is hard on the back, and sparks my own resentment, I'm care-taking.)

The first time I saw my new sponsee looking hurt when I greeted another person at a meeting with a bear hug and some silly joking around, I felt a wierd guiltiness. Soon, I found myself engaged in a tiring dance of trying to make sure that my sponsee wasn't feeling that I liked anyone else more than I liked her - toning down my delight to see my friends at meetings, and feeling responsible for my sponsee's looks of hurt. I decided I needed to reason things out with my own sponsor.

That was an interesting conversation, with me endeavoring to give enough information to be able to discuss it, without breaking my sponsee's anonymity. My sponsor listened in patient silence, as she always did, then when I finished, asked me one question: "Why is this your problem?"

I blathered on about being a good sponsor, and various other meanderings, then was shocked into silence by the next question: "Have you stopped to consider that you may be being manipulated?"

Nope, hadn't entered my head. It was as though, once that first uneasy feeling of guilt was stimulated into being, my rational mind went into another room and closed the door, leaving the rest of me engaged in that exhausting dance of people-pleasing.

My sponsor and I discussed ( she spoke, and I listened) the reality that we are most easily manipulated by the methods we, ourselves, use. That was a shocker, and not one I was interested in hearing at the time. I didn't understand how I could go to her thinking I wanted to talk about one thing, and somehow always end up discussing my own character defects - how did that work, exactly? Irritating woman.

I was vulnerable to displays of short-supply thinking, because that was the way I thought, at the time. I didn't quite understand that love is a never-ending spring, and the more widely we open the tap, the more generously does it pour out.

Love isn't a pie, wherein if I have to share my love among 3 people, there's less love to give, than there would be if I was sharing it with only 2 - your piece isn't going to be smaller, because Susie across the table is also getting a piece.

On the contrary, the more loving a human being is, the more loving they become, and the more good feeling there is to go around.

Love is a multiplier of itself - the action of loving, creates more love to give. The harder I work to be a conduit for my Higher Power, and the more I choose love before all other responses, the more love rushes in to fill the space, slopping over the edges, splashing on everyone around me.

Short-supply thinking believes that there isn't enough love to go around, and if you get some, I get less. I've found it to work in exactly the opposite way. If I get some, and looking over to you, decide to give you some of mine, to top up what you got, pretty soon we're both going to be looking for other people with which to share the abundance, because we're going to have so much we cannot carry it alone.

Love is a muliplier of itself.

"It's All Too Vague -Tell Me Something I Can Use!"

Many years ago, that sentence positively burst from a newcomer to Al-Anon, at his first meeting. It was as though he'd been sitting there listening, while the shares went around the table, becoming angrier as he heard each person speak. A gentle request from the chairperson for further information, unleashed a tsunami of words. He'd come looking for help, and all we were doing was yakking about how it had been for us when we'd been new to program, what use was that to him? He needed something concrete, something he could use, a list or something. At that, he began to weep, red in the face, and horribly embarassed. Someone passed him the kleenex box, and we sat in silence, waiting for him to regain himself.

After he'd been in program for a few years, he'd laugh at how angry he'd been with us, and then how embarassed - a middle-aged man, crying in front of twenty women! He'd speak of how he'd left that meeting convinced that Al-Anon was utterly useless, and he wasn't going back. Only to find himself driving to the church at the same time the next week. He'd sat in his car for a few minutes, trying to get up the nerve to walk into that room full of women again.

My sponsor saw him there, opened his car door, and gave a gentle pull on the shoulder of his jacket, saying "Come on, dear, don't think about it for too long, you won't do it, out you get, you can slink in behind me."

He'd said stiffly, "I was a jerk last time."

She said, "You were in pain, as we all were. We love you anyway; come on."

He'd asked plaintively, "What if I cry again?"

She replied, "You'll live. What's worse, embarassment, or no help with your partner's alcoholism?"

He loved to recall this, and say, "It was a no-brainer."

He became a regular at our meeting, and would set other newcomers at ease by passing them the kleenex box, saying gently, "I cried at my first meeting, too; it was the first time I cried since I was six."

I learned several valuable lessons from this man - I learned not to be too vague when talking about what program has given me, when I speak to a newcomer. I realised that we each have our own way of dealing with intolerable pain; some shut down, pull the facade into place, and become unreachable, some are despairing, some are furiously angry.

There is no right or wrong to this - we feel what we feel. If we  keep coming back to meetings, and we keep an open mind, we will find help.

From Courage to Change, page 322:

"Keep coming back" is a phrase we often hear in Al-Anon. Why is it so important? Because many of us have grown so hardened in our fights with alcoholics, or flights from alcoholics, that we literally found it difficult to sit still for the process of recovery. We had to have answers right away or take action right away. Yet we felt just enough relief at our first meeting to come back once more. and then again, and again. Slowly we learned to sit still, to listen, and to heal."

I like that. I was definitely "hardened" - in my anger, my thinking, in my habits. I needed to first accept this, as just the way it was, before I could begin to work to change any of it. Step One was surrender for me  - I admitted that I was "powerless over alcohol, and my life had become unmanageable." This surrender freed me, from the ghastly struggling insanity in which I'd been entangled. Step One was the equivalent of flopping back in my chair, heaving a heavy sigh, and saying, "I give up; I can't do it anymore, it doesn't work anyway."

When I was a newcomer, I didn't understand anything but the fact that at the meetings, I felt safe, I felt heard, I felt understood. That kept me coming back. I'd shoot out of the room after a meeting to avoid all that wierd hugging that went on, but someone would always ask, "See you next week?" as I almost ran out the door, and I'd always fling back over my shoulder, "Yep."

Notice your newcomers; welcome them. They are the new blood of your meeting, and of this great program. They have wisdom to offer which you may not have heard before, and they offer you a chance to pass on the gifts you have received. Don't let a newcomer sit alone in their car, trying to work up the courage to come in again, while you walk past, see them there, and just keep going. Do what my first sponsor did - pay attention, and if they need it, give them a boost over the threshold. Love them in a very special way.

Now, Where Was I Before The Phone Rang?

I had such a productive evening planned for myself tonight - I've got a light black wool fabric laid out on my cutting table, with the pattern pieces resting on it, and had planned to get my new winter coat cut out this evening. I'm so well prepared I've even got the buttons - not usual for me - buttons are often the last thing I consider when making a garment. I had it all planned, but it didn't happen. A sponsee called, and we went off into that wonderful place:  a connection is made between us, we speak with honesty, and no fear of being judged.

When I finally hung up, the phone had reached the point of beeping every 30 seconds to warn of impending failure of the battery ( it's amazing what one can ignore, when the conversation is really engaging) and I felt bone-tired, but satisfied. Doing service work with other Al-Anon members makes me feel useful, in a way that nothing else does, or ever has.

No amount of money earned, or possessions gained, has ever given me the same feeling that I receive, when I share my experience, strength and hope, with others caught in the same desperate straits in which I once floundered. I try to give back to others, what was so freely, and lovingly, given to me.
I get emotional, when I think of the way so many people have kept this incredible program working throughout the years. All that generosity of spirit - it's amazing, truly.

My Higher Power's Sense of Humour - chapter 2.

I think I've found the way to do these continuations-on-a-theme posts, I shall call them "chapters." When I call them "Part 2" or "Con't" I wonder if I'm not fostering confusion, since most times the previous day's post is on another topic entirely. So, Chapter 1 of "My Higher Power's Sense of Humour" can be found here.

Just let me decide that I know what is going on with another person,  and I will receive from my Higher Power, what I can only describe as an ironically humorous reminder, that I can still be stupendously mistaken in my perceptions. This will often be followed with a further pointed little nudge, with regard to what have I learned about acting upon/reacting or responding to, my assumptions, without first checking their validity.

This sequence has transpired with sufficient regularity during my time in Al-Anon, that after the first burst of laughter when I realise I've just received one of these reminders, and the moment of admiration for the neatness and economy of their construction, I've developed the habit of saying, half-laughing, still, (and much like an adolescent being reminded for the 300th time to "Pay attention, I'm trying to tell you something, here!") "Yeah, yeah, I get it, you don't have to belabor the point!"

I might attend a meeting one night, feeling rather out of sorts or grumpy, and think to myself that one person (who is unknown to me, but not to others at the meeting) isn't very friendly, and when it's his turn to share, he'll speak about how terrrifying it is for him, to meet new people: how rather than be able to make small talk, he'll tie himself in knots inside his head, imagining the dozen stupid things he's sure to blurt, causing horrendous offense and resulting intense dislike of him by the other person, so rather than say anything, he won't even make eye contact, he'll just pretend he doesn't see them.

He's then sure to go on, to describe a character defect he possesses, and a coping mechanism he's developed, which is a precise and perfect match for one of mine. I will be sitting across the table, cringing to hear myself described with such
exactitude. This happened recently - as soon as the meeting closed, and people began to mill about, I made my way over to him, to say, "Oh man, could I relate to what you said just now! I do the same thing, and I've been struggling with that for quite a while, but you know, for years, I couldn't even see that I did it!"

We then had a twenty-minute, deeply intense and personal conversation, with many howls of laughter, and a powerful connection felt on both sides. I walked out to my car after saying goodbye, smiling happily to realise, I'd just been graced with one of those reminders from my Higher Power.

An Extra Meeting.

Last night, I was feeling prompted to attend an "extra" meeting. I found myself in that interesting place of arguing with the part of me that was pushing me into my shoes and out the door; I didn't feel much like attending a meeting.  I was tired from having driven over to have lunch with my sponsor. But some part of me accepted the prompting from my Higher Power, and got me there on time.

It was one of those intensely powerful meetings, where every person who shares, seems to be speaking directly to my character defects. Ouch. And not-ouch, too, because when I hear that others struggle with the same issues, I feel comforted, that I am not alone in backsliding on this or that. I feel that I am human, only human.

There is an aspect of my character with which I occasionally have to struggle, not so much anymore, but in times of stress, it will fight to gain some ground, and that is the part of me which wishes to punish in return, when someone I love has hurt me deeply. I heard sharing on that very thing in the meeting last night, and it was welcome, because I've been feeling that gruesome sneaky guilt I feel, when parts of me that I dislike, want to put on a fashion show, and commandeer the runway of my internal dialogue.

I need those reminders that I'm not a cartoon character of evil, just a flawed human being. If I give the guilt any room to move around at all, it will begin to take me over, my self-esteem will plummet, and before I know what's happening, I will be feeling despaired and depressed. I need to have it proven to me, by the loving empathy I feel to hear someone else share about it, that I can also love myself, in spite of my "worst" character defects.

Being in Al-Anon, even for a time, doesn't mean I will not be faced with the normal human struggles, merely that when I am, I will have a repository of experience, both mine, and that of others, from which to choose healthy thinking.

Onward and upward, one day at a time.

Have You Ever Been To A "Bad" Meeting?

A newcomer asked that question when some of us were together for coffee, after a meeting. We asked for clarification, what did she mean by a "bad meeting?"

One where we came out feeling worse than we'd gone in.

For me, once. One single time in all the thousands of meetings I've attended. I've written about it elsewhere on this blog, but can't find it, and am not in the mood to hunt.

It was in a large city a few hours from here, and I've attended it several times over the years of travelling back and forth, and found it a positive and inspiring meeting. This night, it was a relentless recital of misery and hopelessness, around the room, one after another. I could feel myself slowly sinking, as another person spoke and was, in turn, negative and blaming.

When I was walking back out to my car afterwards, I had to make a concerted mental effort to shake off the weight of all that negativity. I went back to my hotel room and read my Al-Anon Courage to Change, until my usual more hopeful and positive mood reasserted itself.  I took my little dog out for her late night relief walk, and stood looking at the patterns of the streetlights shining through the trees and onto the wet road, as I waited for her to do her thing. I felt enormous, powerful gratitude, which was so strong it brought tears to my eyes, that the very first meeting I'd attended had been full of uproarious laughter.

Those women gave me hope, when they howled with affectionate delight, as a member spoke ruefully of the insanity of her thinking, and how she'd thought it quite reasonable at the time...reminds me of an AA tape a friend lent to me, in which the speaker recounts a story of that sort of loopy reasoning, and at the peak of it, the audience is laughing so hard the speaker has to stop for a moment, until they regain themselves, and when they do, says, "Normal people wouldn't find that funny."

I went to my first Al-Anon group every week, not only because the women were so loving and supportive of me, but because they laughed so much. I love to laugh, and somewhere along the path of living with active drinking, I'd lost my sense of humour. I was a bitter, blaming, resentful, angry soul, and those women folded me seamlessly into their positive and loving meeting. I'd never had that kind of acceptance, and it quite overpowered any judgements I  might have made otherwise. Love and acceptance work to thaw and grow us, where nothing else can. I've never forgotten how powerful that laughter was, and how it taught me that, as the suggested Al-Anon meeting opening reads:

"We, too, were lonely and frustrated but in Al-Anon we discover that no situation is really hopeless and that it is possible for us to find contentment and even happiness, whether the alcoholic is still drinking or not."

I try to remember to be an example of that, when I speak at meetings, and write on this blog. I may not always manage it, but I try, the same way others have tried, in the countless meetings I've attended, and the blog posts I've read. A recital of misery may make the speaker feel better for having vented, but it's not exactly "sharing experience, strength and hope."

In a meeting or out, what I need, is for you to tell me about how you had a moment of clarity, which brought you to a place of gratitude. Tell me about the way you suddenly saw how crazed your thinking was, and how it made you laugh out loud. Tell me about how a piece of Al-Anon literature gave you serenity and peace, when you were struggling. Tell me of the way program has changed your life for the better, and you have "...contentment and even happiness, whether the alcoholic is still drinking or not."

Crosstalk, and Commenting Upon Someone Else's Sharing.

MrSponsorPants has a post about this today and it seems timely, as lately I've seen this same behavior demonstrated, on more than one occasion, by more than one person.

I find it excruciatingly uncomfortable to sit in silence while one member chastises another, under the guise of sharing. I'm intensely grateful that this was not done to me when I was new to program, or that if it was, it sailed right over my head. I was so full of self-loathing and self-disgust, that had anyone criticised me in a meeting, I'd most likely never have returned to Al-Anon. (Just considering where I'd be were that the case, gives me the willies.)

Meetings are meant to be a safe place for all, but as MrSponsorPants points out so well, we are sick people. He may be speaking more of alcoholics, but those of us who are codependent, are just as barmy in our own endearing ways.

Some meetings feel safer than others, because some meetings are more closely attuned to the Steps and Traditions of Al-Anon. I've sat in meetings where I felt that there were unspoken messages zinging back and forth across the table during sharings - and not gone back to that meeting, but found another one to attend. I've had enough of that sort of thing in my personal life, I'd rather find a meeting with a more comfortable feel for me.

In the last place we lived, meetings were few and far between, so I didn't have a choice, I had to learn to tolerate whoever attended, and "love them in a very special way." I grew because of it, in a way I wouldn't have, if I'd only ever attended meetings in which I felt relaxed and safe with all the members.

I learned that those who are critical are often lonely in their pain, and that this criticism was modelled to them in their family of origin by being directed at them from the time they were tiny children - this made me more able to see past the facade, to the person crouched behind the barricades, lobbing grenades over their heads in a furious attempt to keep all at a safe distance.

As my friend Wilson once said, "Happy people don't act that way."

Some folks can grow and change, and some can't ever take the first step onto the ladder across the crevasse - their fear is just too great. It isn't up to me to decide how they should behave, although I will do, and then catch myself. I try to be warmer to those people, in an effort both to live my program, and to make the meeting feel safer for them, as well.