"We Don't Live In The Rooms"

Life outside the rooms is so different from life inside the rooms. When we're in the rooms, we're surrounded by people who are (largely) working to improve themselves and live spiritually. It's not a hard and fast rule, and there are always exceptions, but by and large, when we're in the rooms we can rest easy that we are surrounded by people who are at least trying to live honestly. It's light years away from what it's like out in the 'real' world, where people routinely lie, cheat, etc.

I spend a fair amount of time thinking about the world outside the rooms. We don't live in the rooms. We learn there how to deal with life, but the rooms are not life. Some in Recovery try to make it their lives. They spend most of their time in meetings, have a sponsor & work steps, and are of service. But they don't have lives outside of the rooms. There often comes a point when they are told, "you can't hide in here forever." A lot of us start our Recovery unemployed. Going back to work is a huge step, but it's one we all must take. Many of us follow the suggestion to change our people, places, and things and find ourselves without a social life for a while. This, too, must be rebuilt.

If we stick with our Recovery, the program becomes a basis for how we live our lives. We rejoin the world as clean and sober individuals, living the spiritual life, and have to deal with a world that isn't and that doesn't. I'd say it can be a little difficult, but that's like saying the desert is a little dry.

How do we deal with people who aren't honest? How do we conduct ourselves in a culture where the cheaters and the corner-cutters are the ones who get ahead? If we truly 'practice these principles in all our affairs', then we do our best to be rigorously honest in everything we do. This might mean we miss out on some opportunities. It might mean someone else gets ahead of us because they are taking the easier, softer way. Each of us has to decide what rigorously honest means to us in each moment of our lives.

Our higher power cares for us, though, and shows us the way. When we become consumed by self-will and take our will back, our higher power lets us know. We can hear its guidance inside us, urging us towards the better way. Some people refer to this as a conscience. For myself, my conscience comes from my higher power, and it is a gift. I know all too well that if I ignore my higher power's will and instead try to live according to my own, everything comes crashing down around my ears and I start feeling that old, familiar pain again. Sometimes I have to be in a lot of pain before I will listen to my higher power's will for me, sometimes not. The more I practice living according to that will, instead of my own, the better I get at doing so.

We really can't control other people. How they live their lives isn't up to us. All we can do is cultivate our conscious contact. When we're upset about something or someone, we have our higher power to talk to about it and to look to for guidance. That's what we get to do; we get to lean on the loving support of a power greater than ourselves and know that, while we might not get what we want, we will always get what we need.

I'm not so spiritually advanced as to never develop resentments. I'll be honest with you: sometimes people really piss me off. Sometimes life makes me want to throw up my hands in defeat. But I have tools now to deal with life, and with other people. I can give things over to my higher power; I can let go and let God. I can remember that if someone else has a problem with me, it's their problem. I can remember that ups and downs are all part of the experience of being human. And I can remember that, no matter how bad things might seem, being sober is always better than being loaded.