Miracles

 A topic in a meeting this past week was "miracles of sobriety," big or small, past or present. Small or big, depending on your perspective, I get to drive cross-country with a friend this week, riding along for their move to Washington DC. Road trip! 

Planning the drive brought back a memory of my meth-cook boyfriend, Richard, and a trip he'd planned with a couple of friends. I don't recall exactly where they were headed - Michigan? New York? In any event, after a day and a half, he called from a truck stop, practically begging me to send him a bus ticket home. He said his pals left him. My guess is that he was dope-sick. It was sad, and reinforces the miracle of freedom to pick up and go without worrying if I have enough pills (or whatever) to make the journey.

Earlier in recovery, when I was a church-goer, I participated in a weekly discussion group before service, usually related to a reading or topic. One morning, we were on the topic of miracles, with one of the members, an attorney if I remember correctly, disputing the idea of miracles, believing that word was limited to loaves and fishes, or walking on water. In this guy's opinion, things like childbirth, medical cures, and yes, sobriety, were simply facts of nature, as in, there is nothing special about natural events, or doing what should've been done all along. 

On a strictly factual basis, sure, I can see what he meant. Long ago I read the book, "When Bad Things Happen to Good People," (H. Kushner) with the premise that there are natural laws in the world - as in, like our animal brethren, we humans are born and die, sometimes tragically or seemingly too soon, but life is random.

But, anyone who has watched a newcomer go from shivering denizen to health and productivity would call that a miracle of sorts. And think of our own stories - is it an actual miracle that I stopped drinking and using in time? That I didn't die at the end of a syringe? It sure felt like it to me, and to my mother.

No reason to quibble over semantics. Big "M" or small "m" miracles are in the eye of the beholder. Sometimes the sun coming up on a summer morning, or watching a flower turn into a tomato feels like a miracle, but maybe that's just me noticing the wonders of nature. Sometimes listening to music in a park with old friends feels like a little miracle, given all those from our school days who've died from the drink or the drugs. And sometimes, still, simply waking up clear-headed and alive feels something close to miraculous.

And here we are in August, with the slightest hint of fall in the air. Some of my friends don't like June's summer solstice as it signals the beginning of shorter days, but I rather like the shifts and changes, with ripening gardens and a morning chill. I haven't been in school for a long time now, but still feel the end of summer urge to stock up on desk supplies and maybe buy a new outfit or two (though being retired, I've made the decision to only wear comfortable shoes and pants with pockets). 

The eighth month equals the 8th Step - amends. According to a workshop by Lila R, at this point, the only amends due are probably to myself. If I'm diligent with Step 10, there likely aren't a bunch of unresolved conflicts lurking in the wings. And if there are any pesky characteristics bouncing around that cause problems with my loved ones (or strangers, for that matter), I can use this opportunity to clean my side of the street. What a gift, this program of recovery. I've had recent conversations with friends who are butting heads with people not in AA or Alanon, recognizing that those friends most often simply do not have the tools we do - the tools to stay current with our own emotions as well as a template for correction/amends as the need arises.

What "M" or "m" miracles do you recognize today, whether tangible or perhaps a change in thinking? How do you perceive the change of seasons in the world, or in your own life? How does program help you navigate uncharted territory? Are there any amends, to yourself or others, that you can address this month?

*  *  *

See the Jan 13, 2023 post for a sample of the "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" workbook with 78 pages of topics, member's views, and processing questions. Available in PDF format ($12.95) for those of you outside the US (or who prefer that format) or hardcopy ($19.95 mailed to you. Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions.  You can order from the WEB VERSION of this page, payment link on top right. Note that the workbook is also available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th