When I first attended a Twelve Step program, I quickly “did” all twelve steps in about a month.  That was expected. The Fifth Step, which I chose to do with my priest, was somewhat scary, but I continued on.  When I had completed Step Nine, I felt a great sense of burdens being removed. I joined other fellowships and worked through the steps similarly.
 
Approximately ten years after I first entered “the rooms,” I joined Overeaters Anonymous. I started the same way, not taking long to go through the first nine steps, then continuing to work 10, 11 and 12.  In OA I found that it is common to take the Fourth and Fifth Steps again regarding another person or a particular situation. I have gone through the steps several times in my OA life. 

I have thought of the Sixth and Seventh Steps as the “working steps” for my character defects, but I am beginning to realize I have neglected a wonderful gift in the Fifth Step. To write out a Fifth Step around a character defect, share with Higher Power and then with a sponsor or partner in recovery is truly working the program.  After all, the spiritual Principle of Step Five is integrity.  
 
As it says in For Today on November 3rd:  “I need not be afraid to admit anything to God and to another person, under God’s guidance.”
 
To continue to grow in recovery I need to use the Fifth Step, and I am grateful to do so!
 
Lesley – Region One

Lately it has been hard for me to get to meetings.  I love being able to go to a meeting without leaving my house, but sometimes sitting at my computer paying attention for an hour feels like more than I can do, and there often seems to be something else that needs done instead.  But, I know from past experience that not wanting to go to meetings is a “red flag” for me.

One of the advantages of having been in these rooms for years is that people notice when you aren’t showing up as often.  I’m grateful for OA friends who have called to say they’ve missed seeing me, and who have sent text messages saying "I hope to see you at the noon meeting today!"  They’ve helped me get back to where I hear the things I need to hear.

At one such meeting, we read a wonderful story titled “Power of Meetings” (Taste of Lifeline, pages 70-73).   The author shared about her first meeting, which changed her life, and said that meetings continue to be a foundation of her recovery.  This got me thinking about my own first meeting and what meetings have meant to me.  I realized that although “meetings” is technically just ONE of our Tools, they incorporate most of the other Tools as well. 

I attended my first meeting in 1993.  There was only one other person there, but this man put out the sign, led the meeting, shared his phone number, gave me a Big Book (Alcoholics Anonymous), and reviewed the meeting directory with me.  That meeting got me started in OA and introduced me to literature and phone calls.  I also got to be honest about my crazy food and unmanageable life for the first time.  In 2021, I get to give back by helping ensure there is someone there to welcome others to their first meeting—on Zoom.

As I attended more meetings, I met my first sponsor.  That’s really the best place to meet sponsors, right?  When I started sponsoring others (my Step 12 foundation), I connected with those people because we were at the same meeting. Zoom meetings are where they keep the newcomers these days, and I’m grateful to be sponsoring two new people in the past year.

In my early days of program, when the “We Care” list went around the meeting, I wrote names and phone numbers inside the covers of my OA books.  Now my cell phone is chock-full of OA numbers…members I’ve met at both face-to-face and Zoom meetings.

I own just about every OA book published, but I certainly don’t read them all on my own.  On non-meeting days, I might not get around to reading at all.  We fumbled around a bit at first on Zoom, but meetings soon hit their stride and most have chosen one of our amazing, hope-filled books as their focus. 

My first service was setting out chairs at a face-to-face meeting.  Zoom meetings also need people to give service, and it is important for me to step up.  When I say yes to service in a Zoom meeting, it’s easier for me to stay present, and it’s good for me to know I am contributing to the well-being of the meeting.

Meetings are where I learned to listen and give other people my undivided attention, three minutes at a time, without giving advice.  It is a little harder in Zoom meetings, but I’ve found that leaving my video on helps me be accountable for being attentive, and taking notes helps if I'm having trouble staying focused.  When I do these things, I am much more likely to come away thinking “Wow! What a great meeting!”

These days, there are new voices sharing their stories of hope in our meetings—our “world-wide Fellowship” has become an everyday reality.  We’re connected in a way we were not before, and what a boon this must be for meetings in small towns everywhere!

Meetings have provided structure for me—an opportunity to “show up” on an ongoing basis.  I wasn’t happy to have the bottom fall out of that structure a year ago, but I am grateful we as a Fellowship made quick use of the tools at hand to make meetings available again.

I see my OA family at OA meetings.  As a person who (still!) has a tendency to drift toward isolation, the Fellowship is very important for me.  I need to show up and claim my seat (or at least my little square!) at meetings.  I am grateful to be able to do so.

See you on Zoom!  :)
 
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Beverly M. – Region One 

Our Eleventh Step talks about prayer and meditation. Meditation continues to be a struggle for me. In many practices, one of the first instructions is to close your eyes. Because of my childhood trauma, the idea of closing my eyes doesn’t feel safe for me right now. I feel too exposed. Too vulnerable. I used to use this truth as a weapon against myself. “You think you’re recovered? You can’t even sit with your eyes closed. What kind of an example is that?!” the vicious voice of my disease chimes in at every opportunity.
 
It’s important to note that through working the Twelve Steps with a sponsor, and some outside help, I have experienced recovery beyond my wildest dreams. For the most part, I do not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. I believe in my heart that my experiences can benefit others. I know a new freedom and happiness. I feel useful and I am confident in my abilities. I have talents to share.   So where is my freedom from fear of other people?
 
Program has taught me to accept myself unconditionally. I love and accept my body – a miracle for someone who has tried to starve herself to maintain someone else’s unattainable ideal. I love who I am as a person, another miracle for someone who did not believe she was worth the space she took up in the world. And, I have a self-preservation skill that, so far, I am unable to, and may never be able to, let go of. I have a strong connection to my Higher Power. I know with all of my being that HP is with me 24/7, showing me grace and direction. And still, my instinct, when I try to close my eyes to meditate, is to recoil as if from a hot flame. The miracle here is that I am not a lesser person because of it. I accept it, refuse to let the voice of my disease define me, and remain open to other ways to quiet my mind so I can hear HP’s will for me. Because that is what meditation is all about – strengthening our connection with a power greater than ourselves. How we get there doesn’t matter.
 
So, how do I meditate? I go for a walk. Because of my past, it took a lot of work to be able to walk by myself. I stay vigilant, and present, paying attention to everything that is happening around me. As I do, something amazing happens: my mind begins to clear and I hear and feel an amazing inner silence. An overwhelming sense of peace. I feel safe. And in that safety, a thought materializes that leads me to my next action. A plan forms and I can visualize the path ahead. Random thoughts start to connect and form a coherent picture in my head. As I embrace whatever was just revealed to me, I feel a deep sense of joy.
 
Does this happen every time I walk? Not hardly. As anyone with a meditation practice will tell you, reaching the stillness is not always possible every time you sit. But when it does happen, it is profound and I feel an unbreakable bond with my Higher Power.
 
When I am not able to walk and I am feeling restless, irritable and discontent, I have learned to doodle. I sit at my desk or dining room table with a blank piece of paper. In the middle of the paper I write a word. One that calls to me in the moment. Examples include Peace, Beauty, Loneliness or Heartbreak. I draw a circle or box around the word, and I start to create patterns. The patterns flow easily out of me and onto the paper as I concentrate on the word in the center. The goal again is to quiet the stories I am telling myself and find a calmness to replace the restlessness. I open my heart to HP’s message for me. If I can’t seem to find the flow, I surrender to the process and release each self-judgment as it appears. Like any new skill, it took some practice to let go of my expectations and be present during the doodle meditation.
 
The point is that however we choose to quiet our minds and open our heart to a power greater than ourselves, the only way we can do it wrong is to not do it at all.
 
Alice W. – Region One

My OA friend said, “I have an assignment from my sponsor.  Can you tell me about your Second Step experience?”  I didn’t have an immediate answer.
 
Later that week I was reading a wonderful story in the Big Book (Alcoholics Anonymous, 4th edition) titled “A Drunk, Like You.” On page 405 a spiritual awakening was discussed.  Aah!  My friend had been asking about my spiritual awakening!  In the story, the writer was disappointed that he hadn’t had a “more dramatic” spiritual awakening.
 
I was transported back to 1976, when I first entered the rooms of the 12 Steps at the tender age of 26. I had accompanied a friend who didn’t want to go alone.  I had been very depressed, but didn’t know that I was about to find the answer I needed. Walking into that room is something I’ll never forget.  It felt like walking into sunshine (and it was winter in Fairbanks, Alaska). I felt loved and accepted. And I kept coming back. That was my first spiritual awakening!
 
Jumping ahead to 1987. I was no longer a member of that first fellowship.  I was desperate to lose weight. I saw an ad for Overeaters Anonymous in the paper and wondered if it could be a Big Book fellowship. Their meeting was held fifteen minutes after I got off work and only three doors away, so I brought my Big Book and found that they were starting a Big Book study that night!  It was a renewal of my spiritual awakening.  Here was where I belonged!
 
Fast forward to 2009. We had moved and moved again. I had wandered away again. I had tried other methods of weight control.  Nothing worked. I got the bright idea of going to an Oregon OA retreat to get back on the wagon, but thought that afterward I wouldn’t have to attend meetings afterward—that I’d be able to do it by myself. But I discovered at the retreat that I love meetings!

Later that year we had to move again, back to my home town of Ketchikan to care for my mother.  I found an ad for OA in the paper, but when I went to the meeting no one else showed up.  I called the paper and was told the meeting wasn’t happening and they didn’t know how the ad had gotten back in the paper.  The time and place for a meeting were provided for me, and there were many weeks of just myself attending, but slowly a fellowship has grown around me.

I pray I have learned the lesson for good that this is where I belong and where I can stay spiritually awake, growing in recovery!
 
Lesley – Region One
 

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I was able to attend the OA Birthday Party this weekend and thought I'd share about two sessions which were particularly meaningful to me.
 
Pitfalls that Lead to Relapse
The speaker shared a list of 17 items she had identified that can lead to relapse (as found in OA/AA literature).  One of those pitfalls is not taking daily quiet time (Step 11), and I realized that my head says I'm too busy to take this time on a daily basis.  Oops!  I needed the reminder that I do better when I make Step 11 a daily practice.  That time with my HP means that I am more likely to surrender and turn to that source of power when I want to crumble or resist a big wave of emotion, new situation, fear, etc.  
 
Sober Eating
Speakers in this Sunday morning session shared about "sober eating" leading to true freedom from food obsession. Lately food has been a struggle for me.  Maybe it's time to look at the foods and behaviors that I play cat-and-mouse with, still wanting them to to "work" for me (Steps 1, 2 and 3).  As one of the speakers worked with a volunteer to write a "contract" around food choices and behaviors, I wrote one for myself.  I will share my "contract" with another compulsive overeater today and ask my HP to help me stick with that contract.  I do want that feeling of freedom from compulsive overeating.  I've always believed that the freedom from food comes from a life transformed through the Steps but am realizing that for me right now it's also adhering to a food plan and maintaining a strong abstinence when that spiritual condition sustains some cracks.  In the end, my job is to surrender and it's my HP's job to change my food and my life!
 
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For those who missed the OA Birthday Party, I am sure that the recordings will be available soon.  Region One continues to add recordings from our November convention.  You'll find some wonderful speakers on our podcast page.
 
Cindy C. - Region One 



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I tried to mend my broken heart by surrounding myself with stuff.
 
I tried to heal my childhood trauma by ignoring it and showing the world how unaffected I was. 
 
Look at my beautiful clothes, my impressive degree, my handsome husband, my beloved children.
 
I tried to follow the saying "Living well is the best revenge."
 
What I've learned is that revenge traps the anger in your heart and sucks the life from your soul. And it turned out that my version of living well was killing me from the inside out.
 
My drug of choice was food. I used it to punish myself for my mistakes. For not being able to meet my unrealistic expectations. And I also used it to keep the pain at bay. My behaviors around food—however destructive they appeared to the outside world—are what got me through each minute of every day. The world was a big and scary place that I desperately wanted to be a part of. I would do anything to appear like I had it all together so I could convince myself that I was ok.
 
The fact that my drug of choice was food is not really important. In different circumstances, it could have easily been cocaine or alcohol. For whatever reason, those never gave me the relief that purging or starving did. What matters is that I felt a deep sense of shame that could only be quieted by fully participating in my disease. (Before I got abstinent, I purged everything I ate and exercised 3-4 hours a day. The only way I knew to not purge was to not eat at all. Stimulants were my friends.)
 
Today, I am in the process of clearing out the wreckage of my past. That includes all of the stuff. I try to let go of the pain this stuff has caused my household. My inability to let go of toys as my kids outgrew them has created a mountain of memories and clutter. As I hold each item, I let the feelings rise and honor the tears of opportunities lost. I also let the joy rise as I remember the laughter of children at play.
 
I wanted the garage cleared out by the new year. Today is December 1st. I made progress over the summer, but have not made much effort since. I turned my focus to the basement, thinking I needed a break. Progress shows there as well, and more still needs to be done.
 
As I continue the work, I marvel at my willingness to face my stuff. All of my stuff. Not just the material clutter that keeps my family from enjoying the spaces in our home. I am also facing the stuff that lingers inside my heart. The heartbreak and grief that holds me back and keeps me stuck.
 
I hold each item, each thought, each idea, each belief that no longer serves me. I thank it for getting me through and I let it go.
 
The Twelve Steps contain all of the solutions I need to live an abstinent life. A life beyond misery. A life beyond my wildest dreams.
 
Alice W. – Region One



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