Part of recovery we can’t do alone and part no one else can do for us.
Earnie Larsen
The first time I walked into “the rooms” over seventeen years ago, I saw a group of older people sitting around laughing and drinking coffee. As I shyly looked around the room, I spied the coffee and cookies sitting on the table. A lady with a friendly enough face walked over to me and asked me if I would like to have a seat. I told her, yes, but asked her if I could buy a cup of coffee first. She told me that the coffee is always free and that it would always be brewing, five days a week, especially holidays.
Five years later, after interrupted attempts at staying clean and sober, despite the fact that I was singing in the choir and working, I remembered that ten o’clock meeting.
When I walked in the room, the same group of people seemed to be sitting in the exact same seats. A friendly woman walked up to me and said, “Good seeing you! We’ve missed you! Would you like to have a seat?” Just as if she had not noticed the “slight” weight loss I had undergone. This time, I took a seat, and then rushed to the coffee pot!
A little over seven years ago, with sunken cheeks, no teeth, and a few more scars on my face, I thought about that little meeting, and thought I would drop in on them again. The same people were sitting in the same seats! I walked over to the most approachable-looking older gentleman there and said, “How can I get a seat here? You have been sitting in the same seat for years.”
The young lady sitting next to him said to me, “Honey, take this seat. It is now yours. I have been sitting in this seat now for almost ten years between these two gentlemen, and I have not used. They tell me that this is a good recovery seat.” She then got out of her seat and offered it to me. Mr. Avery (the elderly gentleman) whispered in my ear, “Now there’s another thing about maintaining your seat; you have to be the first ass in it each day!”
So, for the next two years, every day, Monday through Friday and especially holidays, I was the first person in my seat! I discovered the joys of “the meeting before the meeting” and learned the pleasure of “the meeting after the meeting!”
Soon, as the responsibilities on my job increased, I was not able to make the meeting every day, but would come whenever I had a day off or could take an early lunch and especially holidays. Whenever I came, I came early enough to make sure that my seat was indeed, my seat!
A few weeks after my seventh year of uninterrupted recovery, a young lady walked into “the rooms” and came straight to me at the meeting and said, “I’ve been noticing you for a few years sitting in the same seat. How do I get a seat?” I looked in her eyes and said to her, “My sister! Welcome! You can have mine. This is a good recovery seat. The lady who sat in it before me gave it to me. It is yours now!” I smiled as I watched Mr. Avery lean over and whisper something in her ear. I knew what he was telling her!
The precious gift of recovery that they had given me had blossomed into the realization that wherever I sit within “the rooms,” is a “good” recovery seat.
As long as I bring my ass and put it there!
Andrea W., aka Sala Dayo Nowelile