Home

 We were very fortunate this past week to visit my husband's family in San Francisco after missing several regular trips due to the covid shut down. Watching little nieces and nephew cavort through a playground, overdue hugs and catching up in person - these relationships truly are gifts of recovery.

Another gift of recovery was an in-person coffee date with several friends from the meeting we've attended over the years when visiting. Thanks to zoom, we've seen these folks once or twice a week all during the pandemic, smiling and waving from our Hollywood Squares, with the occasional note in "chat." While very grateful for ongoing online connections, I'm beyond thankful for actual hugs with actual people in an actual coffee shop (outdoors, vaccinated), sharing stories of survival and gratitude. I can feel the "we" in a room full of strangers, but that doubles and triples in a room with friends.

Two meetings I attended last week were on the topic of "home," as in: the home group; what we missed in our growing up households; what we get from our 12 Step programs. I was fortunate to feel love in my family home. I may not have received the level of attention and guidance I could've used (though appreciate the freedom that resulted), but the love was there, along with homemade chocolate chip cookies warm from the oven after school.  And when I walked into my first AA meeting after treatment, I immediately felt, "These are my people."

That was a big deal. Feeling comfortable with strangers was a big deal, and made it easier to "keep coming back" Pre-recovery, I was the person who skulked around the edges of a room. I always made sure the friend I was meeting got to the bar before me so I wouldn't have to walk in alone, feigning nonchalance while checking my watch. I know now I had a bad case of self-centered fear, but at the time, the bondage of self was nearly paralyzing - I want your attention, but please don't look at me! 

If I'd been asked to describe "my people" I would not have mentioned the old guy in the frayed pants who kept saying, "Will power will not keep you sober, but want power will." I wouldn't have included the guy who'd lost his leg in a motorcycle accident, the authentic hippie woman (vs today's youngsters in tie-dye), or the 18 year old kid (who just celebrated 37 years sobriety). I wouldn't have included the young mom, or the teenage girl who told us that Led Zeppelin was her higher power. But when these people spoke, week after week in a chilly church classroom on Sunday evenings, I understood. When they shared what was in their heart or on their mind, I knew exactly what they were talking about and marveled that they put in to words what I'd thought were my own insecurities and secret dreams.

I have walked in to a few meetings over the years where I felt not cool enough, or maybe too old (like in a tiny meeting at the Schofield Barracks in Hawaii with a couple of 20 year old soldiers). But 99% of the time, I breathe a sigh of relief when I take a seat among my fellows, knowing that with just a few words of greeting, we'll establish that indescribable recovery bond.

Coming back to Portland, with the glow of family (actual and  recovery) like a warm blanket on this chilly October night, I look forward to the quiet joys of home before my next adventure. Home today means our near and far online and in-person meetings. Home means my bestie's for raucous Christmas celebrations (maybe this year??) and my brother in the house we grew up in. Home means listening to music in the park with women I've known since third grade, and the kid up the block who gives me a nod when I pass, though we've never spoken. Home is cats on the couch with me and the hubs, and how he and I catch each other's eye across a room. Home is that internal feeling of peace and ease as described in our literature. Home is in the here and now, when I can let myself be present.

What does the word "home" conjure for you, whether people, places or things? How can you feel more at home on the inside when external circumstances are challenging? What parts of the program serve to bring you back to center? 

**Reminder that if you'd like this sent to your email every week, or if you're interested in the workbook, "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" you will need to go to the WEB VERSION of www.soberlongtime.com for the links.