August 13th

DAILY PONDERABLES

Together WE Trudge The Road OF Happy Destiny

Daily Reflections

A CLEAN SWEEP

. . . and third, having thus cleansed away the debris of the past, we consider how, with our newfound knowledge of ourselves, we may develop the best possible relations with every human being we know.

TWELVE STEPS AND TWELVE TRADITIONS, p. 77

As I faced the Eight Step, everything that was required for successful completion of the previous seven Steps came together: courage, honesty, sincerity, willingness and thoroughness. I could not muster the strength required for this task at the beginning, which is why this Step reads "Became willing . . ."

I needed to develop the courage to begin, the honesty to see where I was wrong, a sincere desire to set things right, thoroughness in making a list, and willingness to take the risks required for true humility. With the help of my Higher Power in developing these virtues, I completed this Step and continued to move forward in my quest for spiritual growth.

From the book Daily Reflections

Twenty-Four Hours A Day

A.A. Thought for the Day

"We had but two alternatives; one was to go on to the bitter end, blotting out the consciousness of our intolerable situation as best we could, and the other was to accept spiritual help. We became willing to maintain a certain simple attitude toward life. What seemed at first a flimsy reed has proved to be the loving and powerful hand of God. A new life has been given us, a design for living that really works. All of us establish in our own individual way our personal relationship with God." Have I established my own relationship with God?

Meditation for the Day

Make it a daily practice to review your character. Take your character in relation to your daily life, to your dear ones, your friends, your acquaintances, and your work. Each day try to see where God wants you to change. Plan how best each fault can be eradicated or each mistake be corrected. Never be satisfied with a comparison with those around you. Strive toward a better life as your ultimate goal. God is your helper through weakness to power, through danger to security, through fear and worry to peace and serenity.

Prayer for the Day

I pray that I may make real progress toward a better life. I pray that I may never be satisfied with my present state.

From the book Twenty-Four Hours a Day

NA - Just for Today

Difficult people

Page 235

"By giving unconditional love...we become more loving, and by sharing spiritual growth we become more spiritual."

Basic Text, p. 103

Most of us have one or two exceptionally difficult people in our lives. How do we deal with such a person in our recovery?

First, we take our own inventory. Have we wronged this person? Has some action or attitude of ours served as an invitation for the kind of treatment they have given us? If so, we will want to clear the air, admit we have been wrong, and ask our Higher Power to remove whatever defects may prevent us from being helpful and constructive.

Next, as people seeking to live spiritually oriented lives, we approach the problem from the other person's point of view. They may be faced with any number of challenges we either fail to consider or know nothing about, challenges that cause them to be unpleasant. As it's said, we seek in recovery "to forgive rather than be forgiven; to understand rather than be understood."

Finally, if it is within our power, we seek ways to help others overcome their challenges without injuring their dignity. We pray for their well-being and spiritual growth and for the ability to offer them the unconditional love that has meant so much to us in our recovery.

We cannot change the difficult people in our lives, nor can we please everyone. But by applying the spiritual principles we've learned in NA, we can learn to love them.

Just for Today: Higher Power, help me serve other people, not demand that they serve me.

From the book Just for Today

Thought for Today

" The first 30 years of my childhood nearly killed me." anonymous

"King or Queen Baby attitudes and behaviour are a block to recover. Many of us have carried into our adult lives childish egos and immature attitudes. We won't give up our child-like needs of control or our desire that all our needs be met. An attitude of I want what I want when I want it, and motives of power, attention, and instant pleasure have no place in our Program.

Recovery teaches us ways to deal with our scared little child and at the same time allows us to nurture the child within us all. When we act like babies, we think we are the center of the world, and believe that status, fame, money and beauty are the most important things in life. When we admitted defeat, we needed to put our childish behaviour behind us. We changed from believing in Baby Power to believing in a Higher Power.

I will continue to put away my babyish behaviour by working on self-discover, self-acceptance, self-discipline, and self-forgiveness."

(EDI Meditations)

Buddha/Zen Thoughts

Abandon wrongdoing. It can be done. If there were no likelihood, I would not ask you to do it. But since it is possible and since it brings blessing and happiness, I do ask of you: abandon wrongdoing.

Cultivate doing good. It can be done. If it brought deprivation and sorrow, I would not ask you to do it. But since it brings blessing and happiness, I do ask of you: cultivate doing good.

-Anguttara Nikaya

Native American

"A bit of sunshine, a drop of rain, a puff of life from the Great Spirit as He gently breathed upon that spot, created the Native Americans. They were well formed and agile, copper colored and proud."

--Harriet Starleaf Gumbs, SHINNECOCK

We are made in the image of the Great Spirit. A long time ago He breathed life into our ancestors. He made the Indian strong. He created a Warrior. Our ancestors created more warriors. We have been tested throughout the seasons and we are still here, stronger than ever. It is good to be Indian. We are proud of ourselves and our ancestors. Mostly we are proud the Great Spirit has never forsaken us, and continues to guide us.

My Creator, let me live my life today in a way that would make my ancestors proud. Let me remember each month that I am here to serve You. Today let me conduct my life in a way that also would make You proud.

WALKING HOME ( Chaplain Bill L.)

We all have them – stories of walking home. Remember? They are evocative – they dial up memories of old secrets, lingering regrets, a few triumphs, and a number of idyllic moments too – memories of days filled with comfort and joy as well as pain and sorrow. I am going to share a few vignettes from yesterday not because they are so great or outstanding or even interesting but because they may jiggle loose memories of your own that have been locked up far too long. Recalling these memories may help you return to old people, places and things – this is the stuff that makes you who you are today and hopefully, it is the stuff which empowers you to move past the nagging ache in your soul, face long hidden demons, and bury for good the old bones no longer worth keeping in secreted closets.

Billy Jordan and I would run the mile home from Horatio May Elementary School – for lunch. My faithful dog Champ was waiting for me at the back door. My mom prepared radish or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, graham crackers and a Hostess cupcake for desert. We listened to her favorite soap, Ma Perkins, sponsored by Oxydol Soap. It took five minutes to run home, 15 to chow down the Wonder Bread sandwich and another 10 to get back to school. A good memory: childhood buddy, cherished mother, and a “great” lunch – lots of sugar and carbs and fat.

As the years strolled by, the walk home became more of a pain than a joy. I am not sure why? Tired of Billy Jordan? They gave the dog away – the neighbors objected to the barking. And Ma Perkins became frightfully boring. Eventually, I grew tired of the walk and instead opted to ride my bike. Sadly, kids grow up, become a little bratty, somewhat spoiled, a bit smug, and far too sophisticated to walk home.

Uncle Randy lived upstairs of us. He had just gotten home from the hospital a few days earlier from what we thought was successful gall bladder surgery. He said he felt like a milkshake. We walked down the block to Hiller’s Malt Shop. I remember the walk home. Uncle Randy seemed to grow more fatigued with each step he took. That evening an ambulance took him to the hospital where he died of internal bleeding. Surgery was still a primitive operation in the 50’s – and extremely risky.

There were a few triumphant walks home too – like the victory march the Adams Street gang took after walloping the Quincy street gang in a 79 inning summer’s day baseball game. I remember hitting somewhere around 11 homers in the game. The score was something like 122 to 97. There were no umpires around, no parents, no fans, no dugouts, no uniforms – and no fights – only pure joy and the boys of summer having a high old time playing ball from what seemed sunrise to sunset.

Then there was the time, my dad drove me to my first girl friend’s house in Berwyn, Illinois. One hour later, I was walking back home through the black forest known as Columbus Park which bordered Oak Park and the old Austin neighborhood in Chicago. It was one of the longest walks I had ever taken. I was too embarrassed and broken to call my Dad. I needed to be alone for an hour or so to wallow in self pity and feel sorry for myself for as long as I possibly could. My first love told me to take a hike because she wanted to date another boy. Talk about the valley of the shadow. The world was coming to an end. The sky was falling.

Do you remember your own stories of significance that centered on the long walk home? They can be instructive, inspiring, disquieting, and eye-opening soul cleansing treasures. We simply must break them open in order to be whole again.

A dear friend told this story of walking home. His divorce left him practically penniless. He was no longer economically viable. He drank himself out of his house and lost what was left of what he thought was a tolerable home life. The settlement guaranteed him a place just above the poverty line. His reputation was shot – but he claims this bleak realization of lost credibility is what got him through the dark days. He remembered a quote he had read from Margaret Mitchell (She authored the blockbuster novel of the 40’s GONE WITH THE WIND); “Until you’ve lost your reputation, you never realize what a burden it was or what freedom really is.” He thought about his lost reputation and the freedom it brought him as he trudged up the hill to his tiny apartment, carrying a bag of milk and eggs, packaged ham and Oreo cookies. Walking home that day, he knew he was on the cusp of a major choice: he could milk lots of “woe is me” from his dire straits until the cows came home or he could muster the courage to move his life into a new direction.

Walking home that day, he realized he was staring up from the bottom of the well. He could sit there and give up, or he could make a heroic stand of sorts against the fates and force of entropy – the second law of thermodynamics both ruled and ruined his day: if what was left of his life could disappear down the drain, it would. My friend decided to stand up to the challenge of the day. After pouring himself a cold one – a large glass of milk and after putting the groceries up, he called his kids to tell him he was entering rehab. They said, “Dad, frankly we don’t give a d….” Undaunted, he made the call and declared to powers higher than he that he was ready for a change. 10 years later, Bobby McV is sober, remarried, reunited with his kids, reconnected to a few old friends, and vitally related to several new ones. Life was waiting for Bobby McV. and he made the decision to wait no longer. The long walk home to a cramped but comfortable apartment was redemptive.

I am not certain what it was for Bobby. Was it the long walk up the hill, his humbling trudge with groceries in hand, and the memory of a once-upon-a-time-a-long-time ago unloading a trunk full of groceries from a garaged car that backed up snug and tight to the kitchen entrance of his house? Was it the harsh reality of a tiny apartment with a moldy refrigerator that held no more than a day’s worth of groceries? It takes what it takes to smell the fava beans - to realize what a great opportunity it is for a new beginning and a fresh start after one loses his reputation or loses someone precious to him or loses whatever he considers irreplaceable. A spiritual moment awaits us. Try walking home alone now and then to see where it really takes you. Remember the story of the “Prodigal Son.” Look where the long walk home took him. The party was over but the celebration was just beginning.

The Ballad of Misery Music

There’s a young man lookin’ through the liquor store window at me sittin” here on the shelf,

And he knows he should go home and leave me alone but he can’t seem to help himself!

And his face is red and his mouth is dry and his hands are soaking wet,

And although that door’s between him and me, I’ll probably get him yet!

You see, my name is “Misery Music” and I’ve been around for a long, long time.

And I go by a lot of other names...such as “whiskey” and “beer” and “wine!”

I feel you’ve probably heard of me and if you haven’t yet you will,

‘Cause I was here today and the day before that, and I’ll be here tomorrow, still!

Now the young man’s standin’ at the liquor store counter, still starin’ at me sittin’ here.

And he can’t figure out how he got this way...hell, he just wanted a couple of beers!

But now I’m in his veins and I’m in his brain, and he just doesn’t know what to do…

He’d been told I was cunnin’ and bafflin’ and strong...now he’s found I’m patient, too!

‘Cause my name is “Misery Music” and I’ve got all of the time in the world!

I don’t have to search; they’ll come to me; men and women and boys and girls!

They’ll abuse me when they use me and go down in sad defeat

‘Cause they haven’t learned that the way to win...is just to not compete!

His eyes are sunken back into his head; they’re dead in the neon light,

And he’s dancin’ to my old misery song...burned up by my fires inside!

And any thoughts of his wife or his child or his job or the groceries or the rent,

Have long been submerged in a ninety-proof urge to drink like a man hell-bent!

My name is “Misery Music” and I’m always to blame, it seems,

For futures lost at terrible costs...for lives full of broken dreams.

But I feel that I really must protest all this credit, because you see,

Left to myself I’ll just sit on this shelf…until you come messin’ with me!

But now he’s runnin’ back through the door of the liquor store, still shakin’ like a leaf!

Somehow he’s decided to leave me alone...though he’s not feelin’ any relief!

And he’s runnin’ through the nighttime traffic to a building across the street

Where a triangle sign that swings in the wind shows where the sober drunks meet!

But I’m not worried; there’s a thousand more for every one of him

Who’ll decide that they can still handle me...while all the while I’m handlin’ them!

I really don’t mind his runnin’ away. (In fact, I kinda like his style!)

And a lot more folks will be comin’ this way…I guess I’ll just wait for a while!

You see, my name is “Misery Music” and I won’t settle for second place!

‘Cause I was old when the earth was young...thanks to your human race!

I’m the “stuff that dreams are made of” if those dreams are nightmares, too…

And I have touched a thousand million people…just like you!

Frank B.

Livingston, TN

Big Book

Chapter 11 A Vision For You (pg 161 & top 162)

Now, this house will hardly accommodate its weekly visitors, for they number sixty or eighty as a rule. Alcoholics are being attracted from far and near. From surrounding towns, families drive long distances to be present. A community thirty miles away has fifteen fellows of Alcoholics Anonymous. Being a large place, we think that some day its Fellowship will number many hundreds.

But life among Alcoholics Anonymous is more than attending gatherings and visiting hospitals. Cleaning up old scrapes, helping to settle family differences, explaining the disinherited son to his irate parents, lending money and securing jobs for each other, when justified - these are everyday occurrences. No one is too discredited or has sunk too low to be welcomed cordially - if he means business. Social distinctions, petty rivalries and jealousies-these are laughed out of countenance. Being wrecked in the same vessel, being restored and united under one God, with hearts and minds attuned to the welfare of others, the things which matter so much to some people no longer signify much to them. How could they?

Under only slightly different conditions, the same thing is taking place in many eastern cities. In one of these there is a well - know hospital for the treatment of alcoholic and drug addiction. Six years ago one of our number was a patient there. Many of us have felt, for the first time, the Presence and Power of God within its walls. We are greatly indebted to the doctor in attendance there, for he, although it might prejudice his own work, has told us of his belief in ours.