Alcoholics all isolate themselves, and in their loss of connection with the real world their disease is left to consume them. If you have become so isolated that no one knows or cares about your drinking, then who will help you to stop? A simple question, but one with a complex answer. Some in recovery feel they have even of their desire to drink by God, or the universe or whatever you want to call something greater than yourself. Some find community in the rooms of meetings, and that helps them.
I have been working at Step 1 and my sponsor suggested looking to the step 3 prayer:
I am not a person of faith. In fact, as a humanities student I was more likely to quote Karl Marx (Opium of the masses) at you rather than something from the Bible. However, there is something in this maybe. Stay with me. I didn’t stop drinking by myself, and I can’t say I won’t ever drink again. I can say that I will try one day at a time. I am also willing to suspend my disbelief in an omnipotent being, one day at a time, if this is what I need to get well.
So- as part of my RED (running every day) I ran to the local church. Not sure why. Maybe I pictured it as some rays from heaven hitting me, or a (hopefully hot) young Vicar having an intense chat with me in my clashing godawful running kit. Anyway, what happened was zero. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. No one even spoke to me, or acknowledged I was there, and let’s face it, in day glow kit I was not hard to miss.
Disappointed I started to run home, mulling it over. Perhaps that was the wrong Church, or the wrong religion? Maybe they were all super busy? Had the three minutes till the end of the world alarm bell been rung?!** anyway, I bumped into a dog walker, who had a Chug. Yes, I know! A Chug. It’s a pug and chi-I can’t-spell-it-Paris-Hilton-dog. He was great! I am led along with him, talk about charity, doing good for others, the pace of life. It was a good 20 minute chat with a stranger about all the things that had been bothering me.
Perhaps I was looking for contemplation in the wrong place that day, but I certainly felt more connected to my local community and indeed the real world after meeting that dog walker. I asked for guidance and it came, not how I expected, but it did help me that day. I can’t point at this as reason for believing in a higher power, but I can see that there must be something more than just me at the centre of my life. You can’t force recovery. It takes time and patience. So whilst I like this font, the message for me is whack.
I much more relate to this floral offering:
* This is ironic. I am no where near the awesome Mary Berry
** This is not ironic. I am amazed every day and Trump has resisted pressing the red button.