thepoint_202502

31 01, 2025

The Aspens Sang

By John W.

Somewhere it started,
Somewhere the wind blew,
Somewhere the gale was howling,
Somewhere the song was heard.
Somewhere was not here.

On the quaking Aspen the harp hung,
But so foreign this land,
No song of home could grace it
A lost right hand better than
Plucked strings of joy.

Yet still The Aspens Sang.
The aria of boughs caressed
By invisible zephyrs
In harmony with leaves all
A shiver, a Voice of joy and hope.

That this land, that life, my life
Upon which my Aspens grew
Had become by me so defiled, so false
A land, a life of lies, even when the
Truth no harm to me would do.

So this heart held no song
This heart felt no joy
This life seemed so hopeless
Yet still The Aspens Sang.
They sang until I could again sing.

When my heart once more
Was filled with song I cannot
Recall to the moment, yet
As an incoming fog it upon
Me spread its cooling blanket.

I knew somehow I now believed:
Even I could again know joy,
Even I could again know hope.
This sanity with it brought serenity,
And still The Aspens Sang.

Their song weaved through the forest
Of my veins, so the sap within them
Flowed freely, nurturing ever branch
To which they within organs reached.
The Aspens Sang, I believed that Song!

31 01, 2025

Came to Believe

By Anon.

Proud of the fact that I had been born in San Francisco, it seemed to cut to the essence of my heritage when pulmonary problems – that my later to become ex-wife had developed – caused us to consider, and eventually move, across the Golden Gate Bridge to Marin County to raise our growing family, now numbering three, all under age eight. The ravages of my problems with alcohol, unbeknownst to me at the time, had moved with us.

The office where my thriving business was continuing to grow despite my shortcomings stayed behind, requiring a commute each day. Two prior premarital DUIs, over ten years apart, by now “ancient history”  had caused me to learn how to better control my drinking so it would no longer obviously affect my driving. Because not driving when I had been drinking was lost on me despite my arrests. I sought and found a local spot, over the GGB, where I could drink but avoid contact with the law. I gave no concern for whom I might hurt, I was “sure” I would drive well, my concern was to not get caught. I was a selfish drunk, my veneer was that of a well-educated, respected, professional, father of three – but on the inside, in the marrow of my bones, I was a selfish drunk, plain and simple.

After the successful change of location to Mill Valley, with the perfect watering hole located a short drive up an easy mountain road, life could not have been better, or so I had thought. But the drinking I believed was having an effect only on me, was tearing my family apart. Even though I had finally gotten sober, after months of daily 7:00 a.m. meetings and despite the evening blackouts, the Kick Out Order was on its way from the Marin Family Law Court. I had no friends, or at least so it had seemed. Without the booze to take the edge off, I was itching restless, oh so irritable, and, make no mistake, very discontent. The folks that had what I wanted, that were licking their disease one day at a time, said “Keep coming back” and “Don’t quit before the miracles” but just how was I to do that. The sponsor helped and with his guidance I started on the steps, not knowing then the timing probably was what kept me sober in the Tsunami that was to hit.

Because of my profession, I was keenly aware that Marin City, just on the West side of Sausalito, due to the boom in WWII shipbuilding, caused Marin Ship to be built, literally overnight, with Marin City constructed in the same haste to provide housing for the needed workers. Of the 4.5 million Americans who entered the shipyards to aid in the war effort, the deep South provided many to the Bay Area, laborers looking for a chance to work, alongside many a Rosie doing her riveting. But when the war ended, a ‘final bullet’ casualty was Marin Ship which closed entirely within weeks, leaving thousands unemployed overnight, playing much more than havoc on the neighborhood dependent upon the shipyard for wages.

The night in question, when I Came to Believe, started like so many before it. My morning meeting was in the books. The 4:30 at The Marina Dock on the way home sure helped, but as I crossed the GGB, I was getting “thirsty” – You know what I mean. Desperately I perused the schedule and found Marin City 6:30 – 6 Nights a Week. Off the freeway like normal, but left to the meeting, not right to the bar. It took a bit to find the classroom used as the meeting location and I knew not a soul, but I felt welcome before I could find a seat. Everyone but me lived in Marin City, or so it seemed. They were laughing and joking with each other and their attitude was contagious. But when that single mom told my story, that was when I Came to Believe. She told us how she had drank herself out of home and family, and how through the program, working the Steps, she had gotten those shattered relationships repaired. While the husband was still a work in progress, the children had finally “come home to momma.”  Oh, did I need to hear that hope that night. When we talked a bit after the meeting, she told me something I had heard before but from her that night I “heard” in a different, a special way. She said “Don’t drink, you go to the meetings, that thing with the kids will work out.”  I never saw that woman again despite getting to that meeting many times over the years that have followed. As I have heard her advice in my head so often in those years, each time I have taken the same hope from it. Though these family circumstances of mine quite a few years later are also still a work in progress, the hope is not. It has replaced the marrow in my bones with a belief that is vital to my successful day, that my Higher Power will restore me to the sanity I have but to seek His help. Looking back, I now know that my HP sent that woman on just that day to Marin City so I could hear her advice which I needed to hear to keep me out of the bar to which I had been headed.  The Power of one drunk talking to another I see day after day as a Miracle of this AA program – I Came to Believe that miracle one night in Marin City, a night I will never forget.

31 01, 2025

Don’t Bite!

By Dede H.

Don’t fight!
Don’t take the bate!
I yell at my dogs
My husband’s snarky
I get barky
So what!

My cortisol level is up
My immune system down
I shop for dopamine
Run all around town
What to do, what to do?

Stop fighting everything
Stop taking the drink
Surrender my will to my One
Peace is just around the corner
Sobriety and serenity are mine
Victory!

31 01, 2025

First, Stop the Bleeding.

In A Sea of Confusion.

By Rick R.

When greeting newcomers, we all want to do what we can for them with the hope that they will all get sober, and live happily ever after, but oftentimes, that’s not what happens. In the grip of the withdrawal symptoms and the awful awakening to face the hideous four horsemen, the new member is often swimming in a sea of confusion and bewilderment, wondering what they have gotten themselves into and wishing they could have a few drinks to settle their nerves, but they know that never turned out well. In my earlier days in AA I would have started by talking about the steps, higher power, one day at a time, and all the other clichés I knew, to pull them out of their hopeless state of mind. That was the best I had to offer at that time. Today I realize that they are already mentally overwhelmed and it’s unlikely that they will translate those ideas into anything constructive in the mental state they are in.  I remember how I felt on the day that I came to my first encounter with those who welcomed me. They were Kind, Considerate, Compassionate, Understanding, Patient, and Comforting. 

Today, when I have the opportunity to greet a newcomer, I want that person to experience the same safe harbor that I experienced. First, I ask them if they’ve been here before, and if they say “no” I have a chance to make their first experience in AA one of hope. I do a lot of listening, so I can get a fix on exactly what they are dealing with at the time, be it, divorce, DUI, loss of job, financial problems, or whatever else they are dealing with that has driven them to AA. Next, I offer them a cup of coffee and find a comfortable place for them to sit and experience their first meeting. I assure them that they will probably have a different perspective after the meeting is over, as most of us do. I let them know that most of us have been where they are and, as impossible as it seems, we all got through it in fine shape and that most of us are comfortable in our own skin. I don’t start giving them advice, other than to sit back and enjoy the sharing. I find it better to let them form their own idea of what we do, by not giving them my opinion of what they should get out of it.

After the meeting is over, I might ask if they enjoyed what they heard and was it different than what they had expected. It usually is and they usually experience the sincerity of the people who shared, and it doesn’t feel that they are being sold a bill of goods. I make sure they have a meeting list before they leave, and I might ask if they have transportation and if they plan to come back for a second helping. I may offer him some literature and even a Big Book, if I feel that it’s appropriate. If they do come back for his second meeting, they won’t feel uncomfortable and, if nothing else, they should see some friendly faces and my main goal is to let them know that we can be trusted. Our only agenda is to help.

When I was in the Navy, they sent us to First Aid classes. The first thing they taught us was, when we arrive on the scene of a personal injury, to “First, Stop the Bleeding”. All the rest is useless if he bleeds out. That analogy seems appropriate for our new members, and I always want to, First, Stop the Bleeding, and make them feel comfortable and safe. I want them to want to come back. The collective sharing of the group will be more effective than any one person’s opinion. Sponsors and mentors will come in due time and only after they understand what they need. 

Go to Top