The Sunday Spiritual Meeting

I didn’t have to work yesterday and I got up pretty early with the intention of getting a bunch of chores done. By 10 o’clock I realized that unless I got up and left the house for awhile that nothing was going to get done, There is a Sunday morning meeting here that is very popular and that, being like I am, I haven’t attended in many months, so I thought maybe I’d go.  I got on my scooter at a quarter to 11 and headed over to the Sunday Spiritual Meeting, only to find that it started at 10.

That’s fiine. Really, I should be doing laundry anyway.  But on my way home I stopped at the Flying M for an iced mocha and ran into the Cheerleader. Last time I saw him he was angry that someone in a meeting had problems that were bigger than his and he couldn’t make the meeting all about him. The fact that he said that at meeting level surprised me.  I didn’t know he was capable of that kind of honesty.  The fact that he stepped out of the meeting to call his dealer didn’t surprise me. He told me he hasn’t been to a meeting since then.

So we’re having our coffee, and he’s obviously coming down, and we’re talking about the program. He wanted to know specifically what it had been like for me. How did I navigate the loneliness, especially seeing Dan (the imaginary future ex-husband) show up in meetings and treat me like crap. He asked, so I gave him some suggestions, and we’ll see.  It wouldn’t hurt for me to be sponsoring someone new right now.

My friend Nikki runs the gift store at the M and after Dennis and I were finished I poked my head in to say hello. We had spoken with each other a couple of weeks ago when I realized that my mattress was homicidal and wanted me dead. Nikki is very spiritually awake and she suggested then that I do some reflecting on what a bed symbolizes to me. I really didn’t want to look at that, but I did, and when I gave her my answer yesterday she told me to go home and throw it away. At the very least that would force me to take some other action toward a solution, right? So I did. I took the bed that wants me dead out to the alley and kicked it’s ass. A couple of hours later Nikki showed up at my house with a new futon mattress.

“Being all powerful, He provided what we needed if we kept close to Him and performed His work well.”

It would be fun to think that sitting down with another addict to discuss the solution to our common problem netted me a new bed, but that’s exactly the kind of “God of Cash and Prizes” crap that irritates me so much. I sat down with another addict yesterday and I stayed sober. I stayed sober, and exercised willingness and faith and the people that love he helped take care of my needs, so perhaps indirectly talking to the Cheerleader got me a bed, And I guess that I ended up being at the Sunday Spiritual meeting that I was supposed to attend, and that was awesome.