I misjudged the height of the curb, and stumbled, hitting my knee, twisting my ankle and came within a hair’s breath of messing up a few fingers and my wrist. I could blame this on my glasses, the late afternoon light, or maybe, having so much fun talking, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was planting my feet.
I stumbled because I wasn’t watching where I was going.
Where we plant our feet in recovery is important – how we handle problems as well as pink clouds is also important.
When I was new in the program, I was told to listen. Good advice for someone who was as self-absorbed as I was!
Soon, I heard stuff that scared me, challenged me and encouraged me. I came to believe that a drink wouldn’t change yesterday and would screw up today; it also might just cancel my future, too. After a year, the craving for alcohol left; and the desire to be useful to others developed. Somewhere along the way, my trying to live without alcohol became living without alcohol.
Then, five years into my recovery, people I admired slipped.
In fact, the building where most of my meetings were was badly burned because of someone’s carelessness.
Could these be signs that maybe I too could go back to drinking?
My sponsor said, no. Only a drunk is looking for signs for permission to drink! My sponsor also reminded me that principles of recovery are better to study, than personalities in the program.
Alcoholism really is cunning, baffling and powerful – That was the first time, I understood what an AA had written: that the person I used to be is always waiting around the corner – waiting to mug me – especially if I quit paying attention to where I am walking.
