As a guest, I attended a Narcotics Anonymous meeting with my badass Uncle.
I spent an hour listening to some of the most eloquent speakers I’ve ever heard in such a casual setting. While myself or the average Joan would stutter or avoid eye contact while revealing their raw emotions and painful experiences, the healing members of NA made unfaltering eye contact with each person in the room as they verbally journeyed from recovery to relapse, through the depths of human pain and psychological struggle.
I listened to tales from those who have been with the program for years, and have not yet broken the seal of step three of twelve.
I listened to the profanity-laden story of a genuine father who has had enough with drugs, and instead feels high from the sound of his daughter’s voice on the telephone each day.
The community is warm and welcoming, there are no capacity limits nor penalties. Members volunteer to read and share while others cheer them on with exclamations they all have seemed to memorize.
My uncle told me later, eyes sparkling, of his sponsor, a person who had completed all of the twelve steps and remains with the program to mentor the newly recovering.
“I am so into recovery right now,” he gushed.
“Are you motivated to finish all twelve steps so that you can be a sponsor and eventually help others, too?” I asked.
“Well, that’s the point,” he told me as he flipped through his journal that chronicled the days of his progression through the first step.
His writing was honest and hopeful, and nearly brought tears to my eyes.
My visit to this meeting affirmed my belief that the more widespread the experience, whether this may be self-constructing or harmful, the wiser the soul;
The deeper one drinks from the dark waters of the earth, the deeper the potential for spiritual realization and truth.
The Stoked Daily. 