My friend Jacob, in his Rocket Tights from LED Queens. I have a pair myself.
Tonight we had a great discussion about One Day at a Time.
And I thought to myself, how crazy my life once was. This being July and all, and I reflect on my life, as it turned out. From what it began as twenty five years ago. Then I was age 26.
When I got sick, I could not focus my thoughts, until I learned how to do that, thanks to Todd. I relate this story, as it happened.
The week I was diagnosed, I had gone to the store and bought poster board squares. I plastered them to my kitchen wall, and drew out a calendar, for three months. I numbered the months, as usual. And I began counting the day until I was supposed to die.
I had 576 days … according to my doctor.
I was waiting to die. This was even before I got suicidal. And that episode go me into recovery, at Todd’s insistence.
His lover, Roy, was my first sponsor. He came over the house one day and saw my calendar on the wall, and asked me what I was doing ? I told him, “counting the days until I die…”
He stepped into the kitchen and ripped the calendar off the wall and tore it up into pieces. He then said, You are not going to do this.
When he left, I went out and bought more poster board, and did it again, the same reaction happened. I then did it a third time. And once again, he ripped them down off the wall.
Over the next eighteen months, Todd taught me focus and control. He gave me a method to cope. And it worked famously.
But, for the longest time, I was living with one foot on the floor, and the other on a banana peel. I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, because, I was still waiting to die.
I was sick for a long time. But I felt that my suffering was salvific. And that if God has a sense of humor, he would not let me die, miserably, like all of my friends did.
The change happened, I reckoned tonight, about the ten year mark, that would have been in 2004. I was already living here in Montreal, and my doctor treated patient Zero, the French Flight Attendant.
He promised me life. A good life. If I followed his direct orders, which I followed dutifully.
I guess, at some point, in this sober time period, I was more consumed with staying sober, and not thinking about Dying.
My Higher Power was working for me. God, that is …
I stopped waiting to die. Finally.
In the last eighteen years, my life got BIG. And my life got good. At the thirteen year mark, going into fourteen, all 12 Promises had come true, Albeit, very slowly. But they did.
A friend said, tonight, that the main ingredient for a good life in sobriety, all has to do with one thing… GRATITUDE.
He said that if you can be grateful every day, you will stay sober. Despite yourself.
Spiritual awakening happen at the oddest times, and we don’t necessarily realize what they are until they are in the rear view mirror and you have some hindsight behind you to look back and say …
Oh Yeah, that WAS a GOD moment, wasn’t it …