OKaysez

 

Made A Decision

Our Resistance to Change Leads us to Isolation.

       What does it mean to “Isolate?” 

    I was fairly new in “the rooms” and was waxing eloquent in the A.A. clubhouse on something or other that had annoyed me when Handsome Jack, a creaky old-timer who pretty much lived there, suddenly asked,

“How long have you been sober now, OKay?”

       “Three years and some change,” I said, proudly. “I’ve almost got three and a half years.”

Jack looked at me for a long moment, then shook his head slowly before saying:

“Sheee-itt, kid. I don’t even let anyone into my yard with less than five years.”

I sulked with hurt feelings for a long time over that remark, but today I find it hilarious.

That’s because now I, like Handsome Jack then, am continually amused and amazed at the topics A.A.’s younger members find to do battle over. 

By “younger” I don’t mean age on the calendar, either, I mean time in recovery.

There are some very young sixty-plus folks around the rooms ready to fight over nonsense.

Here’s one I heard just today. That those who attend only zoom meetings are “isolating.”

(Facts, please. Fewer opinions.) 

In the big fat dictionary is defines isolate as - A person who chooses to remain alone or apart from others.

Also, a place away from society.

But that's not A.A.'s definition.

For us isolating means to go home, go inside, lock the door, pull up the drawbridge, not answer the phone (or emails, or messages), and sulk

oneself into a state where having a drink might start to look like a good idea. 

Isolate does NOT mean to go home, go inside, lock the door, turn on the

computer and log into an A.A. Zoom meeting anywhere in the world at any time. That is NOT isolation. That is recovery. That is fellowship. 

Zoom meetings are a true miracle of technology and a huge blessing we in A.A. gained during the terrifying worldwide Covid pandemic.

I absolutely know what alcoholic isolation feels like. I did it once or twice in my early recovery. It sucks. It’s dangerous. But it feels “normal” when we are mad at people and don’t yet know any better way to deal

with our wounded feelings. 

There’s also that other word: Solitude - to be in one’s own company. 

Google says solitude is beneficial, because: 

• It allows you to learn more about yourself and find your own voice.

• It empowers you to become comfortable with who you are.

• It boosts your creativity.

• It gives you an opportunity to plan your life.

• It improves your mental wellbeing.

While solitude actually can be isolating, the word as generally used in A.A. means to withdraw from society in order to contemplate, create, and enjoy our own private pleasures like jigsaw puzzles, painting, baking, reading, sewing, wood carving, music making  … or whatever we please that pleases us.

People in A.A. can - and do - sometimes confuse the meanings of “isolation” and “solitude,” because we can - and do - sometimes view the world differently. 

Here's an example:

One of my best A.A. friends (recently deceased) was a social butterfly. She was happiest in the company of others and felt any day she hadn’t left her home to hang out with other people was a failure. 

(She’s no doubt filling her time in heaven with social gatherings and having a ball.)

I am not a social butterfly. 

While I very much enjoy being with people, I enjoy the hell out of my solitary pursuits, too. 

Neither one of us was wrong. But in our early recovery my friend often accused me of “isolating,” and guilt-dragged me to events I had no interest in attending. To be fair, I did benefit from a couple of those events,

but solitude in my case was only rarely isolation, which she found hard to understand (or believe), because my treasured solitude would have made her miserable. 

But getting back to Zoom meetings ... During the first Covid lockdown we in A.A. weren’t sure newcomers would even show up at our Zoom meetings. 

When, to our surprise they did, we weren’t sure they’d be able to stay sober. 

Wrong on both counts. 

Our “Zoom babies” now number in the thousands and are doing just fine “in” the fellowship, whether they ever go to an in-person A.A. meeting or not. 

Most will go, just out of plain curiosity, and most will stay. Because in-person meetings are special, offering as they do, hugs, cookies and warm and comforting

hugs-in-mugs to wrap our hands around.

Some, however, will prefer to stay only in Zoom meetings. 

Others will keep going to both kinds of meetings. 

There is no wrong decision here - as long as we drunks continue going to meetings! 

I’d rather go to a solid Zoom meeting any day than an in-person one filled with high drama and cruel gossip, where members continually moan about their problems instead of seeking solutions to them in our Big Book

and 12 & 12. 

The nearest in-person A.A. meeting from me now is an hour’s drive away and I no longer drive. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be willing to risk life and limb when the fog is thick or ice builds on the bridges in those high mountain passes where I now live 

But am I active “in” A.A.? 

I am. 

I am in contact with the fellowship every single day through email and messaging; have a home group where I am active; work on online recovery workshops and - best of all - attend a minimum of four worldwide Zoom meetings every week. 

Some of my Zoom friends have come to visit me here in Portugal. One will be here this summer. Most, however, I will probably never meet in person, but we have built solid friendships regardless. My life has been enriched by each and every one of them.

Zoom meetings offer us a smorgasbord of recovery from around the world. They let us see our program isn’t limited to those same-old, same-old gatherings, where we hear the same people sharing their same-old, same-old message once again. 

There's nothing wrong with that, and we do learn from those meetings, but expanding our horizons can also expand the quality of our sobriety.

Zoom meetings come in all the A.A. flavors for recovery including book study meetings, topic meetings, general sharing, speaker meetings, and so on. Zoom meetings are in no way isolating, they are enhancing. And  …

but … 

now I think …

I’m going to have to stop and back away from the computer, because

it feels like I’m starting to rant a wee bit, and ranting is one of those

character defects I’m still working on ...