Change is the Only Constant
When We Become Ready, the Promises Manifest
December 20, 2011
I’ve missed a lot of meetings, recently; it’s the biggest gap in my attendance since sobering up three years ago. It wasn’t horrible, as I maintained my daily calls to my sponsor, my therapist, and my fellows. But I longed to hear the meetings’ stories — the wonderful parables and words expressed in the book and the shares.
When I finally attended a meeting yesterday, we went over the Sixth Step, where we “were entirely ready to have God remove all our defects of character.” The change it asks each of us in recovery to be open to is palpable and promising. In that same meeting, we read from a daily recovery book which also reminded us of change, of transformation; and so that’s my theme to live by today.
Sometimes, my addiction would have me believe it might’ve been easier to stay unhappy and comfortable with the familiarity of my acting out. Fortunately, I’ve had enough sobriety already to know that isn’t true. I’ve said for three years, if I don’t have recovery, then I don’t have a life. Life in active addiction is unstable; it’s unsustainable, it’s constantly imploding, and it’s insane. So, recovery is everything.
Reading about the fomenting change of the Sixth Step reminded me that I wouldn’t have had these last three years any other way. I wouldn’t trade the unknown and the uncertainty of day-to-day recovery for another second of certain self-destruction in active addiction. Because one second in that place is hell, pure and simple. It’s ephemeral and it’s ultimately pointless.
I’ve been honest in the rooms and on my calls about my ups and downs since getting into recovery. There’s rage, depressiveness, and anxiety. But there’s also peace, consolation, and joy. And there’s more of the latter than the former, thank God. Because of this relatively newfound opportunity to be able to feel all these emotions and experiences and be present for them, I wouldn’t trade a day of my sobriety for a day of hell.
For example, my wife and I had a tough time on her birthday. She was upset because it was the middle of the week and I had too much work to celebrate that day, and I didn’t communicate my schedule very well. We argued — but we didn’t do battle. We were uncomfortable — but we weren’t horrified. And we apologized to each other and went to bed on good terms. That’s markedly different from how the whole scenario would’ve played out a few years ago. I get angry, but I don’t get rageful. I get humbled, but I’m rarely humiliated. I have my doubts, but I don’t get hopeless.
This program has changed me. It’s allowed the potential me — buried for years by my acting out — to be exhumed. I’m developing into a healthier, sober person. Step Six sheds light on how this kind of growth and change is possible for each one of us.
