Bottom of the barrel ...

3-25-07
Originally uploaded by chrismaverick

There is a well-known meeting in my area, which I attended this evening for the first time; it has an atypical AA format, created by a now deceased long-time member. This meeting is centered around the chairperson calling on primarily newcomers to come to the front of the room, asking them questions related to their sobriety; some questions are confrontational while other questions are along the lines of what is known in the world of social work as "motivational interviewing" ... related to the stages of change someone is in and how things are working for them.

The meeting is held at a local university. The bulk of the participants, on the other hand, are bussed in from a rehab/shelter in a very rough part of the city. When you've landed here, you are at the bottom of the barrel, no where else to go but to look up for some light and a little hope. There are regular AA meetings held at this shelter everyday, but on Monday nights, it is a "field trip" for the newcomers to this meeting. Many of these guys have only a few days of clean and sober time. Some have been living on the streets or holed up in abandoned houses. Others have had countless relapses, kicked out of half-way houses, families' homes, and other shelters. A few have done prison time and began using once they were released and this is where they finally landed. For many of these guys, this place is the end of the line.

If there was ever a meeting to keep one sober and to keep things "green", this IS the one. I have many "I nevers" from my alcoholic days that I never want to achieve; these guys have done all of them and more that I hadn't even dreamed up. I listened with the hairs standing up on my arms and on the back of my neckline at their responses to the questions and the brief sharing of the horrorifying places this disease took them to: rat-infested crack houses; eating out of trash cans; alcohol-induced comas; multiple jail sentences; revolving shelter doors; botched suicide attempts; being chased through alleys; looking at the end of a gun barrel.

Each person standing before us was the epitome of humility. Prideful men filled with tears and shame. They want everything that each of us wants or is lucky enough to have: to be cared about by family, by their daughters and sons; to know they are loved; to be free of the cravings and urges and obsessions; to live a normal life; to be a proud and contributing member of society.
Their lives took twists and turns that for some of us in the room, we were merely just a few more drinks away from, that's all.

At the end of the meeting, I talked to a number of these guys before they got on the bus, back to their plywood beds and propane heaters. There were lots of hugs and handshakes and deep expressions of gratitude as our eyes met. Encouraging words were exchanged and "Keep coming back" echoing around the room. These guys want another chance at life. Many spoke about this being their last one.

Never have I had deeper appreciation than when I walked out the doors of that university hall and knew I was walking to a car that was going to transport me to a home with heat and a cozy bed and food in my refrigerator. These are the kinds of things I could easily take for granted. I will look at these "luxuries" in a completely different way after meeting these men tonight and when I get on my knees, I will be sure to express a sincere, heartfelt thank you for all that I have. My sobriety can be fulfilled from this place; I do not have to be at the bottom of the barrel.

May G-d hold each and every one of those men nearly and dearly.