One + One + One Day at a Time

Twelve-stepping is work. No matter why, it's hard work. Sometimes you slip. That's why those in the program take it one day at a time. Even after you've been in the program for years, you can still show up at a meeting, tell them you've been sober (or whatever) for three days, and you are welcomed and supported. One day at a time. And another day at a time.

Eventually those can add up, and you reach a milestone. It can be 30 days, 60 days, 90 days. Or six months, 12 months, or 18 months. Or multiple years. Each milestone is recognized and celebrated. I was honored by an invitation to such a ceremony in support of a friend.

It wasn't my 1st twelve-step meeting or first support group. I dated recovering alcoholics and got invited to share this part of their lives by attending open meetings. I hit my share of Al-Anon meetings. I spent years in a non-12-step group for those dealing with broken relationships issues. I even was invited to a meeting of those struggling with (criminal) sexual issues, although I quickly decided that when the two leaders in the group agreed that their frigid wives were the cause of their seeking out teenaged girls, that theirs was not the path to recovery. I'm not necessarily blaming the support group for that. And I decided I was right when my connection to that group wound up back in prison.

This was my first actual NA meeting, and my invitation extended only to the first part of the meeting, where the purpose of the meetings was laid forth, and the awards were given out. In many ways it was the same as any other support group.

Walking in, one quickly notices that hugs are nearly a universal welcome. Some hug special friends, some offer hugs to everyone. And a few hang back, avoid contact, and take their chairs quietly. There are always some of those. For me, coming out of a nasty marriage years ago, hugs were a welcome affirmation of my worth, even to complete strangers, and I welcomed them then and welcomed them now.

My expectations were met in another regard as well. Everyone who spoke started with, "I'm _____ and I'm an addict (or addict/alcoholic)" and the group responded, "Hi _____." Every time. I was told ahead of time to introduce myself as "I'm Heather and tonight I'm here in support of _____." I got greeted as enthusiastically as everyone else. One person seemed to want to dodge their own introduction going around the circle, mumbling something and passing on to the next. However, when the leader for the night greeted latecomers, the dodger was greeted as well, by name, as if to say,"We know you, we welcome you, you can't hide here, you're one of us." At that point the formula was gone through, and the group moved on.

Now was the part I was here for. They start with the small milestones. Just for being there my first time, I received a key ring and a billfold-sized folded explanation of the program and list of the twelve steps. Next they asked the group if anyone here had achieved 30 days. If someone had, their sponsor stood up to make the presentation, meeting the sponsee in the middle of the circle. The speech was usually an acknowledgment of the hard work and struggle to get to this point, as well as encouragement to continue. It ended with a hug. Most times another person would stand up and greet the person, giving their own little speech. Knowing nothing about these people and their stories, the number of people helping give the award seemed to depend on how many people the awardee had gotten close to.

When it was my friend's turn, I lost count of the number of presenters sometime after six. The speeches centered on two main themes. First was "I've seen how hard you've worked the program and grown and changed," and second was "you've made such an impact on my life." By halfway through I was teary-eyed, and very, very proud of my friend's growth, and getting sore hands from clapping after each presentation. No matter.

Before being allowed to sit down again, each awardee was asked by the group, "How'd you do it?" Each got a chance to say a few sentences about what worked for them, how important meetings, sponsors, friends, etc. were to their continued recovery.

After all the awards, there were readings by different people on what the group was about, and the twelve steps and twelve traditions. These were identical to every AA and AlAnon meeting I've attended, with one exception. This was a group sport. Although only one person read at a time, the group chorused in with in-phrases and slogans. I'd been hearing this already, but here it really became an important part of the meeting. Partly it was a way to affirm, "I'm listening. I've been through this. I know how this goes. Saying these things helps." But for me, the first-timer, it was very much a declaration of "We're the in-group. We know stuff you don't. We belong here. It'll be a very long time before you get all this." I guess it depends on the first-timer whether this comes across as an invitation to stick around long enough to "get" all this, or as a wall one has to climb over along with all the other stuff before one can be truly part of the group.

Maybe I'll have to ask my friend.

Before breaking for smoking, before splitting into the closed small groups, they held the business part of the meeting, with treasurer's reports, announcements. There's a group meeting there/here at such a day/time. There's a party here, there, and there, for sober fun. The basket was passed for donations, and chairs were returned to the room's original configuration.

It was my time to leave, after a last hug for my friend.