I’ve had a lot of people tell me, “You should write a blog.” These are the same people that told me, “You should write a book.” Today, when I mention to people, “I’m thinking about writing a blog” they look at me and say, “That’s a great idea.” That’s what they say, but their look says, “Yeah, go ahead. Who’s going to read it? Everybody’s writing a blog. I’m not going to write a blog. You go ahead.” So, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
I have no idea if this is following appropriate blog protocol or whether if violates some arcane 12-step rule, but I’m just going to write whatever pops into my head about whatever is going on. Since a great deal of my life has to do with recovery, that’s generally what I will be writing about. I don’t use social media (Facebook, Twitter, etc.) to talk about my own personal recovery. I don’t even celebrate sobriety dates there. I know some people do and that’s what works for them.
Over the last few years, I’ve become fascinated with the conception of the addict/alcoholic as a hero. Each person suffering from addiction makes a Hero’s Journey. Some make it into recovery and many do not. Those reading this may relate. Many of us have heard “It’s the journey, not the destination.” For those who have suffered the alternative life of the active alcoholic or addict, this journey can be harrowing, terrifying and virtually death defying.
For those who have made it to recovery we’re still on a journey, but it becomes more manageable day by day. We’re on this journey every minute of every day. Not always conscious of the journey. We take it as it is, accepting what comes and living in constant anticipation of what’s ahead. Those in recovery seem to need a little more help with not only their realization of the journey but with their course as well.
Sadly, alcoholics and addicts spend a large portion of their lives guessing what “normal” is. We believe we’re supposed to. If we are fortunate enough to find recovery, we will spend the rest of our lives making little course corrections to our journey of life to stay even. Each day the alcoholic or addict stays clean and sober he or she is beating the odds by an astronomical amount. It takes courage and commitment to do that day in and day out. It truly is The Hero’s Journey.
It isn’t hard to convince an alcoholic or addict that he or she is being heroic. We are by our very nature grandiose. It’s more difficult to understanding that one must prepare each day for the journey ahead. For many addicted individuals that journey continues to be arduous.
Because I’ve started this project through the lens of the hero’s journey I will share a story of my own. This isn’t from the “early days of my sobriety” it’s from what’s happening right now as I write these words. It’s a story that serves to remind me that I’m still on the journey of recovery even though I haven’t had a drink or used a mood-altering substance in many, many years.
To put this in context, I’ve moved a lot. Over nearly 30 years I’ve moved approximately 10 times. That averages one move every three years. This may not be a lot for some, but personally it’s a lot for me. As I have attempted to navigate an ongoing program of recovery over that same period I can say that moving this often has created challenges for this alcoholic.
Because we want them to succeed, there is a lot of advice given to the newcomer regarding what to do early in the recovery process. You’ll hear things like “Go to 90 meetings in 90 days.” Or “find a home group and find a sponsor and start working the steps.” And mostly because “we have no opinions on outside issues” and “ought never be organized” pretty much every newcomer who puts himself or herself out there will get an “opinion” about how they ought to “organize” their program of recovery.
What I don’t see so much is any “opinions,” or more importantly any experience for “long timers” who find themselves moving around and ending up in different places. I can tell you from personal experience that AA is not the same “all over the world.” As a matter of fact, it can differ from county to county and city to city. Is it fundamentally the same from place to place? I would say yes. This is fortunate. For if we want the “I am responsible…” commitment to remain vital, AA’s fundamentals need to remain vital as well.
So, what about the guy who moves around? Starting over in a new place is really a challenge especially for someone who has been sober for a while and has established a strong support group in his home area. It’s possible to maintain some support long distance, but eventually that’s going to become inconvenient and less and less effective in helping the alcoholic remain properly centered. You need a recovery program close to where your feet are.
What are the inherent differences between meetings and what are the things that could potentially trip me up? (read that as “stop going to meetings.”) First, the people aren’t right. I know, that sounds simplistic but let’s work it through. You go to a meeting in a place you’ve never been before. Maybe it’s on the same night you used to go to your home group meeting. It could be at a church or an Alano Club or in the basement of a travel agency. It’s all pretty much the same for your first meeting in your new location.
When I watch television shows or movies where characters go to meetings there is always a good group of people hanging around talking before the meeting starts and the drunks are always straight out of Central Casting. Usually the same age as the character and sporting a similar history. Now in reality, this first meeting in your new place won’t be like that. When you arrive there might be one or two people setting up chairs, making coffee and putting out Big Books or other literature. One or both may greet you, ask you a few questions like, “where you from?” or “is this your first meeting?”
Once they find out you’re not new and have been around for a while, they’ll welcome you and then move on with their work. As the meeting time nears you take your place or seat anywhere in the configuration. Other people will filter in and eventually the meeting will begin. In this first part of the meeting is where many of the true differences will occur. Some will have readings. This can vary in complexity and length from anything between the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions to a couple of pages shy of the first 164 pages of the Big Book.
Make no mistake, this scenario is in no way characteristic of all AA meetings but merely serves as a possibility when facing the prospect of starting over in a new location. One of the other realities that may need to be faced is that in some areas of the country there just aren’t that many meetings. Remote, rural areas often depend on a few hardy individuals and their “pigeons” to carry the message from small town to small town. I’ve got such strong admiration for the guys who do that and their additional commitment to making sure that whenever someone needs a meeting there is a meeting at the time and place listed in the meeting directory.
My experience with “starting over” and going to new meetings is mixed. I should point out that the “mixed” refers to me as I’m the common denominator in all these experiences. Here’s my personal timeline. I got sober in Chicago (after spending 31 days in Tucson, AZ), I moved to Los Angeles at nine months (after a two month stopover in western Illinois for summer stock), at three years and some months I moved back to Chicago, at seven years I moved to Des Moines, IA, at 16 years I moved to Mankato, MN, at 18 years I moved to Hopkins, MN, and then at 22 years and some months I moved to White Bear Lake, MN. A month before my 29-year anniversary, I moved to Bend, Oregon where I have been for over a year. Each of these moves has taught me something about myself and how perilous it is for this alcoholic to navigate his sobriety alone.
Several years ago, I had the opportunity to tell my story of near calamity in the Grapevine. That story had its genesis in one of these moves. Because I’ve had the chance to move a few more times since that event I have also had the chance to develop a “multi-function” tool to add to my toolbox that addresses this very thing. There are several things a person can do if they find themselves in a situation like this.
Let me start by saying, “You most likely won’t ‘fit in’ at the first meeting you go to.” As with most of the examples I give, this may not always be the case, but as a student of human nature and the dynamics of the alcoholic’s ego these examples will resonate often. We really do want to be accepted and feel easily rejected by the smallest or most insignificant gesture by someone else.
We have been the person handing out this slight without even realizing it. Every time we focus on our friends at meetings we run the potential of ignoring the new person. This is particularly true for those who may be suffering but don’t look like they are. One of the inherent problems with being the “not new” newcomer is just that, I’m not new. Not like the newcomer who is the lifeblood of the group, the alcoholic who is looking for a solution early in sobriety. You’re the “new in town” newcomer that nobody knows what to do with.
After making a move a few years go to a place in which we would spend the next four years, I set out to “find my meetings.” I was very committed to not repeating the substantial emotional and spiritual drubbing I had taken the last time I moved and didn’t feel “welcomed” enough in my new community to sustain a commitment to my own sobriety. Big mistake!
There was one meeting at a local club a short distance from my home that met on Wednesday night. I went for several weeks and tried my hardest to fit in, but I just didn’t seem to fit in at all. I could have “let it go” and found another meeting, but I wasn’t going to let what happened before happen again. I “kept coming back.” One evening after several weeks my wife said to me, “You can’t go to that meeting anymore.” I said, “Why not?” She responded by taking a reasoned pause and saying, “Because you’re worse when you get home than when you leave.”
It was true. I had been working so hard to “fit in” and not feeling very successful I was bringing my frustration home with me. I was acting all superior because, “Look at me. I’m going to meetings like I’m supposed to and not being appropriately recognized for the effort.” Gee, I must still be exhibiting some grandiosity.
Now I must confess that I was willing to blame the location we had moved to, with the support of my wife I might add, for exhibiting some substantial parochial barriers that may prove too difficult to overcome. But the very next week a member of the group asked if I would do a lead on the Ninth Step for the meeting. I eagerly agreed and had an opportunity to share a little something about myself with the group. Problem solved. It seemed like after that I was fully accepted in that group. I was invited to do things with them and it began to feel as if I had found my “home group.”
This wasn’t the only group I had gone to during these early weeks and months. One of the most exciting things about being back in a metropolitan area was the access to a wide range of meetings every day. It had been a while since I’d been able to really pick and choose a meeting or meetings to try.
I first identified a meeting place in my town where there were noon meetings six days a week, Monday through Saturday. Because of my work, I went to the Saturday meeting. These meetings were held in the back room of an old train depot that had been converted into a coffee shop that was owned by the local school district.
This place offered its own set of challenges. For one, the only thing between the meeting and the rest of the coffee shop clientele was a large, thick curtain. This wasn’t a soundproof curtain. Every time the barista ground the espresso beans you’d lose some element of the group member’s story. Despite this little anomaly, the meeting became very popular and was often standing room only.
Another meeting I attended in my first month at my new location lead to finding another meeting. There is a very large and very popular Friday night speaker meeting in my home area. It was at this meeting that I heard a speaker mention his home group as a Monday night Men’s Group and he invited any guys looking for a meeting to come on over and visit.
I took that invitation seriously and went to his meeting the next Monday night, three days later. This was an all men’s meeting that had been together for over 25 years and most of the attendees had been coming to the meeting for that long. They automatically broke up into groups after an initial lead where the members could choose between a step group and a topic group. They had a way of greeting the newcomer that was led by members with long-term sobriety. Several members would volunteer to conduct a Step One group for the newcomer. It was very impressive having a wide variety of sober experience in one group passing on their experience, strength and hope to the newcomer.
In truth, I’ve begun to think about the fact that there are newcomers at every meeting (hopefully) and that in the end this is the grandest thing about the weekly meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. It’s generally my own self-centeredness that creates the greatest barrier. It’s not about whether I fit in, but rather what am I doing to help the alcoholic who still suffers. I have often experienced the feeling when trying to help a newcomer of not being very effective. This has continued to be a problem for me, but again this is at its core the product of my own self-centeredness. If I truly embrace and understand the concept of powerlessness I would also see that I do the footwork and the outcome is out of my hands. The resistant newcomer is just that, a resistant newcomer.
In my next installment (if there is one) I’m going to talk about what strategies I have used to stay sober as I have continued to move from place to place.
Take good care.
Notes from the Half Measures Seats 