Boy does this topic open a kettle of fish!!!!!  We all would like to say we don't have any expectations, that's such a crock!!!!  We expect to have air when we inhale, and when that air is not there, we panic.

The degree of importance the expectation carries in our lives dictates whether or not the disappointment causes trauma or nothing.  Factors like my ability to care and provide for myself also influence the importance I put in these expectations and the effect when I am "let down".

Expecting my children to get good grades is a far cry from my child being four hours late coming home.  Different reasons, different reactions and fears at play.  Instinctual, economic and social expectations all vary in importance i.e. if you don't pay back five dollars when you say you will, no big deal.....five hundred it may be a problem.  You don't make it to my Tupperware party is different than not making it to my wedding. Also the closeness or lack of closeness for the party or parties involved dictates my attachment to whether or not I really care if they show to either one.

In sobriety I have cleared away most of the "big" things, by steps, God, changing lifestyle, etc., but occasionally I will find a thing or two that just doesn't go away.  These expectations usually have compounded reasons.  Its not just the simple social, economic or Instinctive reason alone.  When all three levels are involved the degree of importance to my life and serenity magnifies.

Now we get into the Psycho-babble levels, my emotional maturity at the moment also determines how I react.  If I have been dealing with childhood trauma, you got a kid.  If its at a "good" time for me, then you get maturity.  If you are talking dealing with me on a "spiritual" day, then you get wisdom and godliness.  You get the point.  I change, my reactions change.  I am constantly growing in this program so therfore constantly evolving how I react to stimulus.  What I did at two years, (hehehehe HOPEFULLY) I won't do now in the same situation.

My darling one has a saying I blatantly stole from him:  "Expectations are resentments under construction."

It is so true, the more energy and effort I put into a situation, the higher my expectations and the bigger the fall if it goes badly.  I would love to sit here and say from my mountain top that I don't have any problems with expectations, its just not true.  I try to keep my emotional energy level to a minimum on the important things.  Staying busy, working with others and calling my sponsor and sponsees helps multitudes.  Diffusing the situation by "sharing" the load helps also.

Remembering my life is my God's is the best one.  All things for the Greater Good....not easy when its as simple as a soccer game of your grandson's.  I got hopelessly lost, it was awful.  The next day my youngest grandson had a horrible case of the flu.  With me being on chemo, this could have been deadly!!!  My disappointment quickly turned to relief, but often we are not shown the reasons.  These times we cry to the heavens, "WHY?", beat our breasts and agonize.  Effort (or energy), importance emotionally, or finances.....I watch them closely went I am looking forward to things.  I like my sobriety, I value my serenity and don't want to lose it because God kept something to himself that I didn't need to know anyway.

BABBLE BABBLE BABBLE---So like most of my sobriety, it will change as I do.  Life love and living are in motion, and so am I.  I think God likes me this way too, his finest Creation of Jorene ever!!!!!

Soberley submitted by Jorene in Phoenix, AZ

Tuesday, October 31st 2000

I think, for this alky, my favorite saying is ONE DAY AT A TIME.

My very first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous, I heard this term and you tried to tell me about it.  You told me that we did not drink one day at a time.  I could not see how that would be possible.  My God, you were asking me to give up my best friend, my lover, my everything and just do it one day at a time.  You people have to be crazy, is what I thought.  You see even though you said it was one day at a time, my head was saying oh my God, not drinking for the rest of my life, how on earth can I do that.  You see, I needed a drink just to somewhat function in life.  I had to have a drink or two to get to work so I wouldn't come unhinged at the seams.  Had to have a drink at lunch time and pray that it would get me to the end of the work day so I could get well again.  Oh, I can remember the times my hands would start shaking before the day was over, oh thank God I don't have to go through that again.  Then you well meaning do-gooders come up with this, Mary Ann, we just don't drink one day at a time.  Ya sure.  Knew that I would never get that concept down as I was still working on not taking a drink for the rest of my life.  And as a result of not believing you, I became the lifeblood of the fellowship for almost 2 years.  I am just so grateful that the last time I came back I have been able to stay and oh what a wonderful journey it has been thus far.

One Day At A Time is a profound statement. Packed in those 5 words is a plan for daily living.  It tells me that I don't drink, one day at a time, no matter what, if I want to I will postpone it until tomorrow but for today I won't.  I have been blessed to not have to do that.  I would be a liar if I said I never thought of drinking because occasionally I do and I think that is healthy.  When I think of drinking I get to think not only of the good times but I get to think of the rotten times and they far outweigh the good.I am grateful I get to be reminded.  If I am in a bad place mentally the blessing is that I only do it one day at a time, sometimes it lasts longer but rarely.  I don't do depressions, for which I am grateful. One day at a time allows me to delay in making decisions or overreacting to something,  I just postpone them until tomorrow.  Now please understand I have not totally conquered overreacting but I sure am getting better at it. One day at  a time allows me to make changes in my life and if I don't like them, I can always start anew tomorrow.

I started this a few days ago and the week is almost up so better get it finished before the new topic comes up.  I went to a new meeting (for me) last night and it was great, but the really great part about it was the meeting after the meeting.  I am part of a group called the Wandering Juiceberries of AA and on Friday nights we wander to a different meeting here in Southern California.  At the meeting after the meeting last night, we had a brand new one with us, in fact he had been drinking that day.  God Bless Him.  He came to coffee with us and what a 12 step we all got to make and have made on us.  I got so reminded that it is truly one day at a time and sometimes one hour at a time.  Oh, he seems so hungry for sobriety and today I can truly understand the blessings of one day at a time.  Today I know that I was not ready to hear about One Day at a Time when it was told to me at that first meeting.  I was there for all the wrong reasons and just did not want to know what you had to say, but the ODAAT stuck for some strange reason, probably God had something to do with it.  Gave me that message as I was going to learn all about it down the road of happy destiny and I sure have.  One of the best tools we have in this fellowship, it teaches us that if we can just hang on to one day we can make it.  Oh, I am so grateful.  One day is a starting point to gather lots of days, lots of weeks, lots of months and lots of years.  Life goes on to new challenges, new experiences, new happiness, new saddnesses, new friends and my wonderful journey continues................

Soberly submitted by Mary Ann M. from Huntington Beach, CA

WHO'S SITTING NEXT TO YOU?
The Home Group (March 1991)

I know who you are. You are "X" who attends the ABC Meeting at the XYZ Club where AAs meet in Anywhere, U.S.A.   I saw you there the other night at the eight o'clock meeting. I don't know how long you've been clean, but I know you've been coming around for a while because you spoke to a lot of people who knew you.   I wasn't one of them.   You don't know who I am. I wandered into your meeting place alone the other night, a stranger in a strange town. I got a cup of coffee, and sat down by myself.   You didn't speak to me.     Oh, you saw me. You glanced my way, but you didn't recognize me, so you quickly averted your eyes and sought out a familiar face.   I sat there through the meeting.   It was okay, a slightly different format but basically the same kind of   meeting as the one I go to at home.  

The topic was gratitude. You and your friends spoke about how much AA means to you. You talked about the camaraderie in your meeting place. You said how much the people there had helped you when you first came through the door - how they extended the hand of friendship to make you feel welcome, and asked you to come back.   And I wondered where they had gone, those nice people who made your entrance   so welcoming and so comfortable. You talked about how the newcomer is the life blood of AA.

I agree, but I   didn't say so. In fact, I didn't share in your meeting. I signed my name in  the book that was passed around, but the chairperson didn't refer to it. He  only called on those people in the room whom he knew.  

So who am I? You don't know, because you didn't bother to find out. Although yours was a closed meeting, you didn't even ask if I belonged there. It might have been my first meeting. I could have been full of fear and distrust, knowing AA wouldn't work any better than anything else I'd tried, and I would have left convinced that I was right.   I might have been suicidal, grasping at one last straw, hoping someone would reach out and pull me from the pit of loathing and self-pity from which, by myself, I could find no escape.   I might have been a student with a tape recorder in my pocket, assigned to write a paper on how AA works - someone who shouldn't have been permitted to sit there at all but could have been directed to an open meeting to learn what I needed to know.   Or I could have been sent by the courts, wanting to know more, but afraid to ask.  

It happens that I was none of the above.   I was just an ordinary alcoholic with a few years of sober living in AA who was traveling and was in need of a meeting.   My only problem that night was that I'd been alone with my own mind too long. I just needed to touch base with my AA family. I know from past experience that I could have walked into your meeting place smiling, stuck out my hand to the first person I saw and said, "Hi. My name is - . I'm an alcoholic from - ." If I'd felt like doing that, I probably would have been warmly welcomed. You would have asked me if I knew Old So-and-so from my state, or you might have shared a part of your drugalog that occurred in my part of the country.

Why didn't I? I was hungry, lonely, and tired. The only thing missing was angry, but three out of four isn't a good place for me to be. So I sat silently through your meeting, and when it wasover I watched enviously as all of you gathered in small groups, talking to one another the same way we do in my home town.   You and some of your friends were planning a meeting after the meeting at a nearby coffee shop. By this time I had been silent too long to reach out to you. I stopped by the bulletin board to read the notices there, kind of hanging around without being too obvious, hoping you might ask if I wanted to join you, but you didn't.

As I walked slowly across the parking lot to my car with the out-of-state license plates you looked my way again. Our eyes met briefly and I mustered a smile. Again, you looked away. I buckled my seat belt, started the car, and drove to the motel where I was staying. As I lay in my bed waiting for sleep to come, I made a gratitude list. You were on it, along with your friends at the meeting place. I knew that you were there for me, and that I needed you far more than you needed me. I knew that if I had needed help, and had asked for it, you would have gladly given it. But I wondered . . . what if I hadn't been able to ask?  I know who you are.

Do you remember me?