I love looking out the window at trees and watching how they change with the seasons, or the weather. I get used to their shape and they become like old friends to me. Sitting in my room today, it is difficult to see the trees past the power poles, transformers and lines that are obscuring the distant tree line. I admit, I got a bit cranky about this. I started to think about other areas that have buried their power lines, and places I could live and see the trees unobstructed, like I did when I was a kid. But then I stop, and remind myself, those lines put heat and light into my home, and my neighbor’s home. They provide power to the stop light and the school down the street. There are still some areas of the country and the world where power is a luxury, and not readily available.
Often, that is how my recovery can feel. I have meetings I can go to literally every night of the week, where I can share and feel a part of the larger recovery community. But there are many nights I choose to stay home on my comfy couch and watch a program, surf the web or read a book. Sometimes I make the choice not to go because I just don’t feel like going, it’s raining, it’s cold, I’m tired, I’m not in the mood, or I don’t want to “people” tonight, and so on. But I need to be watchful that I don’t take the luxury of being able to attend a meeting and work my program for granted.
Believe it or not, the opportunity to pursue recovery is a privilege that some never get. The cemetery is testament to those who died in their addiction. If we are above ground and drawing breath, there is still time. And each one of us can ask around or find our way to a fellowship to start the process of becoming whole. Don’t let complacency or excuses keep you from the luxury of recovery. It is worth every minute you spend on it. And then some.