Open Talk Reprieve

 So I spend the whole day reflecting, worrying, scheming about this open talk.  What should I say? What shouldn't I say?  Should I invite my girlfriend/fiance'? And the boy?  I've been to probably around 100 talks so far, seen incredibly moving to so-so. Only one that was remotely bad, and it was at this meeting.  A real rush job, disorganized, last minute fill-in (about 1 of 3 here is a last minute due to no-shows).  Most come in just on time.  Perfect, like their personal adventures before and after were tailor-made for the 50 minute slot.  Quite a few more than I would expect wrap it up in 20-25 minutes.  I figure I've got about 4-5 hours of sheer brilliance to share.

I decide to maybe do some writing to get warmed up, rev up the memories and emotions.  That was when I started this journal.  The more I thought the deeper it got.  In the end with time ran out and the boy (her/our 11 year old son) came home from school.  So I figured it best just to do page of bullet points in my notebook and put the rest in God's basket.  Four pages later I was done. 

I had time to dilly, dally and hang with my woman for a few after she got home from work, made an Americano to go and headed South.  As I rounded the last block to the church I saw the sillouette of a cat run across the road 100 yards ahead of me.  I wondered to myself if it was a black cat.  Then I remembered I live with a black cat who not only crosses my path numerous times daily but also sleeps on me.

As I approached the chairperson waved me aside.  There's been a hitch she explained.  The usual booking person wasn't there last week when I got tagged and he asked someone last week who's from out of town to speak tonight and would I mind bumping back a week?  Of course not.  Nevermind that as the speaker opened she mentioned she hadn't been asked to do the talk just a couple hours before.  Honest mistake or KISMET, makes no matter to me.

The talk wrapped, I thanked the speaker and we did the Lord's prayer.  I chatted with a buddy for a few and headed back North with another week to torture myself and revel in the Grace that this program has given me.

One Year of Continuous Sobriety

The purpose of this blog/journal is to serve as a vent, an outlet, a scratchpad for thoughts and feelings that don't fit in my mainstream 'normal' blog-the one for the 'pinks' in subgenius lingo.

A lot of what I write here may not be popular at some tables and/or hard to explain to pinkfolk, whether due to 12 step references or it being too spiritually off-putting or whatever. Lord knows, like so many of us I used to cringe at the S-Word, the G-Word, the J-Word, etc. All before the concept of a user-customizable Higher Power was explained to me and finally sunk in.

Last week I went to one of my usual meetings, a weekly Monday night open talk. They were celebrating anniversaries and I had just had my one year re-birthday. I humbly accepted my coin (in my pocket as I write now), and when they (inevitably) asked, 'How'd you do it?' I answered, 'How did I do it? It wasn't just me. There was a whole lotta WE going on. So, that. And Love. And Prayer.

Toward the end of the talk I drifted off a bit and reflected on the Service part of the program's trinity. I have yet to volunteer for any duty (coffee making, etc), telling myself I wouldn't want to make a commitment I couldn't keep for a month (because of possible conflicts with work, family life, etc., forgetting ALL about the One Day at a Time principle). Just as I remembered that at one year clean I am eligible to man the helpline at HQ and got very excited at that prospect I was brought back into the room by the speaker, Josie: "Hey! is it David is it? You got a year, right? well, the speaker has to pick the next speaker, so I'm picking you!".

There are no coincidences. Everything happens for a reason. Rinse. Repeat.

So, that's where I'm off to tonight. To do my first open talk. I'm not nervous. Yet. I usually suffer from a mild fear of running out of things to say. Tonight I'm wondering how to keep it under Five hours.