I recently read that a new idea held by an old mind is really just an old idea dressed in a new outfit. To me, that fits in with the AA slogan (borrowed from the Bible?) that faith without works is dead. I can entertain all sorts of "new" ideas, but if they don't lead to action or an internal shift, I'm simply spinning my wheels until the next new thing comes along. Until I had the psychic rearrangement the Big Book writes about, I was dry (in those very few times I tried to control my drinking), and dry was an uncomfortable place to be.
In a couple of meetings this week, people talked about new beginnings, starting a new chapter, with new jobs, recent loss of a loved one, the simmering of an urge that isn't quite yet named, the pending new year... While I don't have a big change on the horizon (that I'm aware of!), I do like to take time to ponder what went well and what didn't this year, as well as any lessons learned.
One of my biggest lessons was that I'm more competent than I sometimes give myself credit for. As I've written about, I'm directionally challenged, so had a semi-valid fear about getting lost while walking the Camino, intensified when my friend broke her ankle and couldn't continue. But there I was, trudging the road, getting to my night's lodging each day, tagging along with others or seeking help from strangers along the way. I am never alone, even when I think I am.
I got word this week that the AA group I started, maybe 15 years ago (?) held it's final meeting, having stayed online after the pandemic. I wouldn't say it was a resentment and a coffee pot that got it going - more that the nooner I'd been at for a decade got very big and very young and I sought someplace I could more comfortably relate. Funny - along that line, someone dubbed it the old-people's meeting (hmmm) and then someone else called it "the NPR of AA." In any event, it was stellar for quite awhile, and then, for me anyway, faded a bit with schedule changes, etc. I hadn't attended in probably 6-8 years. That's the beauty of AA - whoever or however a meeting begins, groups take on a life of their own, until they don't.
Over time, there have been several meetings that I lived for, with the perfect combination of fellowship, emotional honesty and spirituality as we all did our best to practice the principles. I currently have online groups that fit that description, though did find myself feeling a bit envious recently as a few people talked about their in-person home groups with reverence. What do they say? If you don't think your home group is the best group in the world, maybe it's time to find a new meeting. To that end, I'm making an effort at fellowship with the long-ago Sunday night home group I've gone back to. It's a big group (40 people?), and, I'm starting to connect with individuals - those newer in sobriety and those who've been around awhile. And that's what it's all about, right? The fellowship, the conversations, the "I've been there too" are what kept me coming back, and allow me to see where my experience can benefit others.
I had an interesting conversation with my brother as I near my milestone. He isn't an alcoholic (he got the family depression, I got the alcoholism), and sometimes will ask me questions, like when reading a novel that has 12 Step characters, wondering if the depictions are accurate. He wondered if I've been sitting on the edge of my seat for 40 years, hanging on for dear life. Gratefully, no, though it can be hard to explain my moment of surrender that removed the compulsion.
It's funny - my brother was there for my descent, though slightly removed from the daily insanity. My first husband's brother, on the other hand, wasn't. When we reconnected a few years ago and I told him the abridged version of my story, he was incredulous, saying he would've punched anyone who'd tried to tell him I was a drug addict. Yeah, I clean up pretty well, and the madness of the disease makes even us nice girls go places we'd never imagined (as I've said, I wasn't a good girl, but I was a nice girl ha ha).
As I write, a crew is banging around on ladders, tearing off old siding in order to repair any water damage and slap up the new stuff. Kind of fitting that it's happening as the calendar turns - discarding what no longer serves. Later today I'll take a walk with women I've known since I was 9, and from there, see my friend, the Tarot Card Lady for a reading in honor of my sober-versary. I fully anticipate being asleep before the ball drops in New York. Midnight is no longer my friend (if it ever was).
And tomorrow will be 2026. Remember when so many were worried that planes would fall out of the sky when computers turned over to the year 2000? One more piece of evidence that I don't have a crystal ball. I can do my best, one day at a time, to suit up and show up and practice the principles - not perfectly, but humanly, and with gratitude for this sober life.
Are there any lessons from 2025 you'll carry forward? What old ideas might you discard? What went well this year? How will you celebrate your successes while being gentle with yourself? Wishing you the very best for the new year.
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Time for a year end inventory? The NOW WHAT workbook is 78 pages of topics and processing questions, great for solo exploration or in a small group. Go to the WEB VERSION of this blog page for the link on ordering (PDF for those outside the U.S., or who prefer it, or hard copy mailed to you).
Contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. A reminder that the workbook is available at Portland Area Intergroup, 825 NE 20th. for local folks. And Jackie, of TMar, has a supply as well, if you're at a conference where they have a booth
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