Good work has a snowball effect, it keeps leading to more good work. ~ Richa Chadha
Back in the day I attended a popular (and very large) Sunday morning open speaker meeting in Mashpee, Massachusetts.
Sunday morning open speaker meetings seem to be a popular AA tradition.
We met in the cafeteria of the Mashpee Middle School.
At one end of the immense cafeteria was a proscenium stage with a podium and microphone.
Next to the stage was a humungous photo of the space shuttle on the launching pad, looking primed and ready for business.
Above this stunning picture were emblazoned the bold words, “Going to work in space.”
I assumed it was there to inspire budding scientists.
However, for the venue of an AA meeting, I found it ironic and droll.
I don’t know about you, but prior to finding AA, most of my time was spent ‘going to work in space‘.
There were usually about four hundred people in attendance.
The last Sunday of the month was ‘Anniversary Sunday’ and attendance would swell to well over one thousand.
For my first few anniversaries I climbed up on stage and received my medallion.
My friends and I always sat in the same spot and pushed a couple tables together.
Afterwards, we usually went to breakfast.
That meeting has ceased to exist and is now a fond memory.
As a speaker meeting, we drew from a wide range of talent. Groups came from all over Massachusetts and Rhode Island to speak there, and I got to hear some very interesting and diverse stuff.
I love speaker meetings because they give me the opportunity to sit back, listen, learn, and get the unvarnished truth in finding out what someone is all about.
Rather than just “sound bite” recovery you get from discussion meetings, open speaker meetings are different.
When someone gets up at the podium as a featured speaker, you get the full Monty. It’s always interesting to hear about someone’s demons and find out what makes them tick.
ANYWAY
Over the years I’ve heard I wide range of speakers. Some focus on financial difficulties, others focus on employment problems, and still others prefer to discuss their health problems. Some folks steadfastly preach AA dogma, and others like to speak about all the places they threw up and passed out, shit their pants, and the times they humiliated themselves.
Lost jobs, money squandered, relationships sacrificed, and all the negative shit they withstood.
I was still very new when I heard this one speaker. It was a breath of fresh air.
He was a tall, thin, well dressed fellow in a navy blazer and a red bow tie. What made him so memorable was his message of hope.
Sure, his life was by no means idealistic, but he had a program, a fellowship of friends, and a solid hope for the future.
His message, and his simple refrain caught my attention. I grasped onto it, like a drowning man grasping a rope. I still remember it to this day,
“It keeps getting better!”
He spoke about the hell he went through, and finally hitting rock bottom. Then he spoke at length about life in recovery. Good or bad, sure enough, he focused on that one thing… ”It keeps getting better!”
As life progressed over the years, I thought about that a lot.
After getting canned from jobs, eviction, repossession, tattered relationships, bitter disappointment, tragic loss – I wondered just when the hell things were going to get better.
Then I had an epiphany:
Just because I’m sober life isn’t going to be rainbows, unicorns, care bears and four-leaf clovers. That’s not exactly realistic.
Good or bad, life happens. What got better was me. I now possess a world-class kit of tools that enables me to live life and deal with anything.
That right there is worth the price of admission.
I’m not proud of it, but as a kid growing up, I was something of a problem child. I never took my schooling seriously. Consistently receiving poor grades and getting into trouble. I’m not pointing any fingers, because I alone am accountable.
So often I’d see my parents look at each other, shake their heads and wonder, “Where did we go wrong?”
They learned that punishing me didn’t work as well as using the reward system.
Hot Wheels or some Legos usually did the trick. I was easily bribed.
That reward mentality stuck with me into adulthood.
When I was brand new in sobriety (and still pretty nutty) I hung on to this bizarre notion in the back of my mind: I figured that I toed the line, stayed sober, got active in AA and continued to do the right thing, after eight months I should be driving an exotic Italian (or German) sports car…seemed reasonable. Never mind that I was driving a twelve-year-old alky sled with rust spots, a rotten muffler and the innovative use of duct tape.
I didn’t consider the logistics of who’d pay for this thing (why ruin a perfectly good fantasy with pesky facts?) And I never mentioned this to anyone, because I had the inkling, they’d throw a net over me and put me away.
But it didn’t stop there. Eight months came and went, and nothing happened. Then I latched onto the Idea that if I hung in there for eighteen months (I don’t know where the number eight came from) then I should be dating a super model…why not?
Well, I haven’t had a drink or drug for thirty-eight and-a-half years now.
I’ve sponsored people, been through the steps, paid my taxes, obeyed the law, and have behaved myself…I drive a ford and Tyra Banks is still a no-show.
HERE’S THE TAKEAWAY
Somewhere along the way it occurred to me that sobriety is its own reward. I don’t need an overpriced temperamental car, or high-maintenance Eye candy to validate my recovery(at this point I’d settle for a Lexus and a stripper).
I’m left telling myself, “Suck it up, Fisher, it ain’t gonna happen.” Fun fantasies aside, this is the fact: 
Happiness is an inside job.
When I was new, if someone asked me to predict how my life would be, I’d have drastically shortchanged myself.
Because, yes, in ways you cannot imagine, it really does keep getting better.
