My, My, My

My new apartment is a few miles away from my old place.  While it's not far as the crow flies it's in a congested part of the city which makes it less convenient for me to go to the meetings that I have been attending regularly.  I'm still going to go to these meetings but I also see the wisdom of establishing myself in the new neighborhood, which is rife with groups, many within easy walking distance of my apartment.  I can almost see the city's main clubhouse from my balcony.


Of course, I don't like the meetings, or the people in the meetings, or the format, or the times that the meetings are held, or the $%!! chairs in the $%!! buildings where the meetings occur.  They're not as good as my regular meetings.  And I'll tell you this: I'm not going to go back into my journal and reread my entries from a year ago when I'm sure I was writing the exact same stuff about the meetings I now so enjoy.  That would be too educational and informative.  I'd rather skulk in the dark, sick recesses of my barely functioning mind, carefully nurturing my need to be as miserable as possible.


Anyway, I've given a men's meeting a whirl 3 or 4 times.  Probably 3, which doesn't sound as impressive as 4 and I always err on the side of making myself sound more impressive,  even though 4 is a singularly unimpressive number in its own right.  I have definitely not gone 5 times.  It's kind of an old-timers meeting and I find it a little clubby.  You know, lots of sobriety and everyone knows everyone else and they all slip in their sobriety date every time they talk.  And it's a tag meeting which means when one guy is done speaking he calls on the next speaker, inevitably a friend.  My experience is that I sit there by myself until the meeting starts and then don't get called on to share.  Then after the meeting I hang around for a little while until I get bored and leave.  I don't think anyone has made the slightest effort to welcome me.  I could be brand new.


Now my experience is that this particular meeting is pretty good, although the members tend to get a little bit in their heads as can happen with longer term sobriety.  We need to mix head knowledge with what's going on in the heart and in the gut.  Sometimes I feel like I'm listening to a professor lecture his students at this meeting.  And I also realize that I need to stick my hand out and introduce myself instead of bitching behind my brothers' backs.  But don't we also have a responsibility to make sure everyone is welcomed?


I'm not doing a very good job of self-analysis unless I break my arm trying to pat myself on the back.  So here goes: I make it a personal responsibility to go speak to someone who is sitting alone or trying to scoot out of the room quickly.  I talk to men and women, but I'm careful with the women.  I try to get one of the ladies involved if I can.  A lot of times my approach is deflected aside, but that's OK.  I'm not trying to force the issue.  I want everyone to feel welcome.  I know who's a regular and who's not at groups I'm established in.  I like to bullshit with my friends, too,  and I get to do that after I make an effort to make sure everyone is included.


My, my aren't I impressive?