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!  :)
 
​
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