I remember vividly when I realized, or was shown, that I was not who I thought I was. VIVID.
The location was a building off of Nolensville Pike called the Carpenter’s Square. I think it was some sort of community space. Maybe a mission of sorts. They hosted daily AA meetings upstairs in a corner room. The first time I went it was completely packed. Maybe 40-50 people. I want to say the group was diverse, but from what I remember, the demographic was uniform. I was a minority by many measurables. Color. Clothes. Smell. Teeth. I was not in a room where I would have run into anyone I went to church with… that’s for sure. Or worked with. Or seen at Trader Joes. I was out of place. Or so I thought.
I sat in the back… I know, shocker. And I watched. I was committed to observing. Fly on the wall. Yes, I was sober at this point. Maybe a few months sober. But I am not sure I had said “I’m an alcoholic” out loud.
If you have never been to an AA meeting, they all basically follow the same format. The routine and familiarity allows for a sense of security, safety, and belonging. If you know what’s coming next, you aren’t as afraid. This is a good thing when your life has been full of chaos. It’s the same reason military school works for some kids who can’t sit still. Give them some structure, guidelines, and firm boundaries, and they slide right in.
There are some readings from the Big Book (AA bible). They read the tenants, or the rules of the meeting. Then they open the floor. People introduce themselves in the way that has become known to society outside these rooms. “Hi, I’m Rob, I’m an alcoholic”. “Hi Rob”. “I’m 46 days sober”. “Nice work!”
People are given “chips” to celebrate sobriety milestones. Weeks, months, years.
Then there are the stories. This is where I was completely caught off guard.
Every story I heard that day sound just like mine. Think about this. Imagine going to a prison and listening to inmates talk about what happened to them. now, you are not an inmate. You have not been charged and sentenced. You don’t wear an orange jumpsuit or have a number. But, when the inmates told their story, what you heard was your story. some of the characters are different. But the scenes sound eerily familiar. The decisions the same. the motives the same. The desire and hope, same. The feelings, the reaching, the anger, the hurt, and the sadness… same, same, same. The only difference? They got caught.
They got caught. That’s it. Wrong place wrong time? Think about it. Which one of us has upheld the law? Which one of us is completely clean? None. None of us. So what happens is this. You, and I, are no different. None. maybe even more guilty. I have stood on the side of the highway while a state trooper pulled drugs out of my backpack. I didn’t go to jail. I don’t know why. I have talked my way out of DUI’s a several occasions. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I’m white and “clean cut”. Maybe I have learned how to be really accommodating and kind. I’m not sure if this is a blessing or a curse… or both.
That day, in that room, during that AA meeting, I heard other people tell my story. They didn’t look like me, or come from where I come from. They had never stood on stages in front of thousands, or written hit songs, or married a beautiful woman, or driven a nice truck, or owned an Apple Watch or bought $300 pair of jeans. They were living in a halfway house because they got out of jail last week for drunk driving. Their parents were dead, or high, or gone (all the same). They had no one to help them outside “the system”. They were alone. They were hurting. They wanted something else out of life. They had no options. They were here because a judge told them to come because the system says this will make them “better'“. Except we all know, nothing is going to make any of us “better”. We don’t need to be “better”… we need a savior. But these people won’t go to church because the church doesn’t know what to do with them. So, they come to an AA meeting. Same meeting I was at. And it’s in this room where they find people just like them. It’s where I found people just like me. and then this strange thing happened.
I cried.
Like, a lot.
These were my people. Right here in this room. This is who I am. Holy shit. “I am not who I thought I was”.
oh no. oh no. oh no. I don’t know if this is good or bad… but it’s true. I can’t unsee it. I really am not who I thought I was. I’m not clean. not even close. shit.
I think about this every day of my life. I see it everywhere now. I would say it it was pushes me towards my God. I am not who I think I am, I am who he says I am. All you have to do is open the Bible. I literally just opened my Bible and landed in Romans 12. Listen to this,
“For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think but to think with sober judgement, each according to the faith that God has assigned.”
Stop… go back. Read it again.
again. Slower this time.
rob
