– People will forget what you said, People will forget what you did; but People will never forget how you made them feel. ~ Maya Angelou
One of the Fundamental Truths of life:
~You’re only as good as those you associate with~
Strive to surround yourself with people who inspire you, people who make you want to be better. If they don’t, then you don’t have a circle. You have a cage.
When I was finally beaten and bludgeoned into a state of reasonableness, I agreed to attend my first AA meeting.
I knew in my heart of hearts that I was done: My best drinking days were behind me. We’ve all heard it said at meetings a million times over, “My best thinking got me here.” I respectfully disagree. It wasn’t my best thinking that got me into the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous. It was other peoples’ best praying.
I don’t know about you, but I can be very stubborn and rationalize anything.
And as with any good alky, I can talk myself out of doing something that’s good for me, and into doing something that’s bad for me.
If I was a superhero, that would be my special power.
With this nugget of self-awareness in mind, I knew my surrender had to be utterly total, permanent, complete, and unconditional – with no room for any loopholes.
Hey;
No one likes to admit powerlessness.
No one wants to suck it up, and to admit defeat.
It doesn’t feel like it when it happens, but If you’ve reached that point, appreciate the unmitigated gift that God has bequeathed you:
The vast majority of alcoholics end up destroying themselves before giving it up, admitting defeat, and allowing themselves to accept help.
My drinking had long since ceased being fun…and it sure as hell wasn’t sexy.
We never recognize the most important moments of our lives when they’re occurring (we’d probably pay a whole lot closer attention).
My first AA meeting was just such an event. What grabbed my attention was the vibe. I liked what I felt.
The people were obviously glad to be there, and pleased to see each other.
There was a lot of laughter, joking, hugging and kissing…it wasn’t at all what I expected. It was a refreshing change from the knuckleheads I drank & drugged with.I was 24 at the time, and I noticed that everyone was old.
…At least old enough to be my parent, or grandparent.
None of that mattered.
I related to those people better than the morons I drank with. I would become friends with everyone in the room.
As of this writing, that was 37 years ago.
As it turned out, this was a step meeting. I didn’t know there were different kinds of meetings. And I sure as hell didn’t know anything about any steps.
ANYWAY,
The meeting was called to order, and we got on with business. We read the step. I don’t recall what step we were on. As it was, I didn’t absorb a whole lot. At that point I was operating on a primal, feral gut level.
What came next changed my life forever.
These good people freely discussed how they drank. They admitted the stuff they did, and how it made them feel. At last. Someone understood how I felt.
That meeting marked my Sobriety Date. It was Tuesday, November 11, 1986. That step meeting would become my first Home Group.
I learned that my drinking wasn’t a moral issue, and we’ve all done stuff we’re not exactly proud of. When the meeting ended, I knew Three Things:
A. I truly liked these people, and I liked the way they made me feel about myself;
B. I wanted to come back;
C. There was no question that I was coming back.
On the way out I stopped by the literature rack, grabbed a meeting list, and another slice of pound cake for the road.
People have this strange capacity of living up to, or down to your expectations of them.
Here’s the message I got:
“It doesn’t matter that you’ve never been able to stop drinking.
You can do this. You’re going to do this. Come along, and do it with us!”
How could I fail?
Having someone who believes in you makes all the difference.
Whether it was their intention or not, they helped me establish a precedent for recovery that would stick with me for the rest of my life, and ensure my success in staying sober. I can never repay that.
Did you ever commit the boneheaded blunder of telling a roomful of Earth-people about how you drank? 
Talk about a faux pas.
You didn’t have to get too far into a description about the crazy acts you committed before they start glancing at each other in silent alarm. They look like they’re going to throw a net over you.
Relate same stuff to a bunch of alkies. Women won’t even bother to look up from their knitting.
Most people will just sit there, unimpressed, sip their coffee and chuckle. You’ll hear something encouraging like, “Keep coming back!”
Alcoholics are my people. They get me.
I can just be myself, and not worry about looking good…
It is perhaps the greatest risk that any of us will ever take – to allow ourselves to be seen as we truly are.
Whatever I may have done. They understand.
Hell, they’ve probably done worse. Wherever I may go, I look for my people.
…And I don’t have far to look.
I get the biggest kick out of walking into a totally strange meeting, and be completely at home.
When I introduce myself, I’ve noticed that people like it when I mention my Home Group. It gives me street cred.
HERE’S THE TAKEAWAY:
Every year at anniversary time, amid the clapping and cheers of my friends, I get up and accept my new medallion. People always shout, “How did you do it?” The stock answer is usually, “One day at a time!”
However, my answer is a little more accurate:
“With the love and encouragement of a lot of good people!”
The players have since changed, but the show remains the same.
I’ve since come full circle, and am now one of those, “old people.”
It’s my sacred responsibility to give back what was so freely given to me.
In the end, when push comes to shove, all we’ve really got is each other. 
That first meeting was a long time ago and far, far away. And even though those people have long since passed, they’ll live forever in my memory.
I am their legacy.
