FAKE IT ‘TIL YOU MAKE IT

I did my best, and God did the rest. ~ Hattie McDaniel

It had been raining all week.  The ground was saturated, and there was a lot of flooding going on. There was a heavy downpour all morning.

Nevertheless, I resolved to attend my noontime meeting, the ‘Brown Baggers‘.                   As usual, I arrived early.

There is always a lot of activity at the clubhouse, but this morning, the place was deserted.   I was engulfed by a particularly nasty cloudburst as I pulled into my usual spot.

Rather than jump out of the car and get soaked, I resolved to sit back, listen to some music, and wait for the damn thing to pass.That idea was suddenly rendered moot when Cathy drove in and parked near me. 

I like Cathy;

An affable, extroverted little blonde with your classic ‘smoker’s voice’. She’s a very active newcomer with a fidgety, high octane kind of personality.

Her enthusiasm for recovery is infectious and she’s fun to be around.                   Furthermore, she gets my sense of humor. 

Even though we were both armed with umbrellas, we were pretty wet by the time we made it inside.  The lights were off and the place was deserted. The rain outside was torrential.

She surveyed the deserted hall, “Is there going to be a meeting?”                                Well, let me ask you a question, would this stuff ever stop you from getting a drink?”

She laughed, “Hell, no!”  

That’s your answer. There’s always a meeting.”

Today was Thursday, which was slated as a Big Book meeting. We were going to read the second half of Bill’s story (we covered the first half last week).

We promptly fell to work making coffee and setting out Big Books.   Cathy dragged a stool over to the door, and prepared her Greeter’s Perch.

It’s something I never get tired of:  watching newcomers jump in at the deep end, get active, and embrace the program. As years elapse, I witness a remarkable thing –

The fearful newcomer evolves into an experienced old timer.   And eventually, we get to watch their true selves slowly emerge. It’s a sacred thing. 

I feel protective over newcomers: They need all the help they can get, and gently be guided along. They made a major leap of faith to be here, and I respect that. 

BUT I DIGRESS…

                                                      

Today’s meeting was very popular, and pretty well attended…but perhaps today was going to be be an exception.

As we started making coffee, Cathy decided that only a couple pots would suffice, because obviously, nobody was crazy enough to drive through this deluge.

…so much for that insightful idea…

The parking lot filled up, and people started filing in. Someone brought donuts & pastries, then someone showed up with those big, oversized chewy Costco cookies…

When it comes to meetings, there seems to be a universal equation:

Lots of caffeine + lots of sugar = a loud and happy meeting.                                         I’ve noticed that as caffeine consumption progresses, decibel levels goes up.

Some people are intimidated by large meetings.

As far as I’m concerned, bring it on!  I live for packed, loud & rowdy meetings.

And that’s what this evolved into on that dark and rainy day.

For the next hour we socialized, had fun, read a great story, discussed it, enjoyed each other’s company, and listened to the rain.

Of course people showed up..who would want to miss this?

It was exactly the kind of meeting fearful newcomers needed to witness, and be a part of.

HERE’S THE TAKEAWAY

I was at a beginner’s meeting the other day.  The topic was something along the lines of, “Protecting your sobriety.”  Very relevant.  Over the years I’ve always made it a point to jealously protect my recovery.

Some folks were going on about memorizing passages out of our literature, working the steps, and all kinds of stuff that made me shake my head in wonder.  This isn’t rocket surgery.

It left me thinking that if I was a newcomer listening to all that, it would have intimidated the living crap out of me. My poor jumbled brain could only deal with so much.

At that point in my life, I couldn’t find my own ass with two hands, a road map and a flashlight. My mantra and my mission became…

It was all I could do to keep my eyes on my feet, focus on the present, and embrace 24-hour living.  In short, I had to unlearn things I’d spent a lifetime buying into.

Here’s the Deal:

If you’re worried about how you can become more spiritual, just relax and let it happen. The most spiritual thing I can ever hope to do is be kind, serve others, and live my life...

Sounds simple enough, but I don’t think I’ve ever managed to live One Day at a Time for a whole day.   I always catch myself dwelling on the past in anger or leaping forward in fear. 

Nobody knows all this stuff right out of the gate.                                                       Nobody is some kind of Grand Poobah.                                                                   Nobody does this stuff perfectly.

Wanna know what I did? I did just what Cathy was busy doing:

Attending tons of meetings, staying active, and keeping close to AA.  I’d show up early, and stay late.

I always made it a point to sit up front, participate, make as much of a contribution as I could, and (this is a biggie) allowed the natural progression of events to take care of themselves.

I knew that in time I’d find myself a sponsor and eventually go through the steps.

…And sure enough, that’s what happened.  And here’s the shocker:

in time, I became a sponsor taking guys through the steps.

Whod’a thunk it?

Making coffee and setting up meeting halls saved my life. I never looked at service work as something beneath my dignity.  Rather, it’s a golden opportunity to ensure success.

I’d hang with the winners, see what they did, watched how they behaved, listened to their stories, and modeled myself after them.

The things I did that worked for me back then are the exact same things that work for me today. There’s no need to reinvent the wheel. In the end I just did my best and muddled through.And In the meantime, I never stopped showing up.

 

…Even in the rain.

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

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