Onward

Here I am, killing time at SeaTac while awaiting my flight to Italy. I like airports - the hustle and bustle of people going here and there, joyous reunions and sad good-byes, the anonymity as well as the potential for camaraderie at the gate or in line at the coffee shop.

I've got my fingers crossed that I get to my destination in time for the 6pm English speaking AA meeting, which will be my only opportunity for 12 Step fellowship as most of this trip will be in small towns, and I'll be traveling with a group. I love going to meetings in other cities and other countries. I often think about a meeting a friend and I attended in Prague years ago where the locals were very hopeful one of us would share our story as they'd heard each other ad nauseum. In Beijing, China we saw a fellow we recognized from home, and in Shanghai, I was asked to lead at the meeting in a fancy hotel conference room - how fun is that? My husband and I shared our stories at our friend's meeting in Belfast when we were there a few years ago...  The fellowship is alive and well all over the world. And I know that travel isn't everyone's cup of tea, but it is part of what feeds my soul. As does then coming home. For me, it's the striving for that ever elusive sense of balance, of adventure and the comforts of home.

When I look at my life in bits and pieces, there have been some very hard times, times I felt that the Universe was misaligned. But stepping back a few feet to look at the whole of it, I have been very fortunate indeed, which I attribute to sobriety. Once, when I was involved with a chronic relapser and  had moved into my old bedroom at home temporarily, my mother expressed her sympathy for my hard life. She was thinking of my father's death, my divorce, the ending of another important relationship, my addiction. I remember pausing a moment in the kitchen, then saying, "Well, actually, I have a wonderful life," citing what I'd learned about alcoholism, my education and career, what I'd learned from the painful episodes. Perspective. Perspective and distance. Time really does heal all wounds. The grief is still there. some memories still sting, but more as reminders than a weight to bear. 

One of my online home groups moved to public from a closed meeting in the last year or so. This week, a newcomer was there, bravely sharing their journey up to that point. Oh man, it was a few years before I could say much more than  my name in a meeting without bursting into tears. I so appreciate how we let each other be where we need to be, whether hiding in a corner, or sharing our tears. Whether I'm sharing my spiel, my "pitch," or what's on my heart at the moment, I find comfort in my seat, my place in the circle. I recently heard a woman with 41 years say she is in more a place of listening than talking. I get it. There isn't much going on these days, though I use the Steps as my daily guide, not just in times of trouble (exhaling). I can certainly create drama, internal or otherwise, but overall, can be grateful for the calmness, knowing This, too, shall pass. I sometimes have a sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop, but time and experience have shown me that's not how it works. ODAT I'll be grateful for what today brings, including a very long flight followed by a train ride. Onward!

What makes your heart sing these days? How do you view the whole of your life? Maybe a rollercoaster or a smooth ride?  If you are a meeting go-er, how do you carry the message, either overtly or by example?