Pubdate: Mon, 26 Apr 2004 Source: Daily Times, The (TN) Copyright: 2004 Horvitz Newspapers Contact: http://www.thedailytimes.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/1455 Author: Steve Wildsmith JUST FOR TODAY: LEARNING TO LOVE THE SIMPLE GIFTS OF LIFE Sometimes, at recovery functions, I get reflective and sit off to the side, watching my fellow recovering addicts. Saturday was one of those days. Warm and sunny, we gathered in a local park to cook out, fellowship and raise money for an upcoming camp-out. Parents brought their children, and the playground rang with the sound of laughter. During times like those, I marvel at the serenity that recovery has given us. Someone manned the grill, flipping hamburgers and turning hot dogs with a singleness of purpose. Another recovering addict sold raffle tickets, badgering those in attendance with good-natured persistence. On the picnic table, a group of ladies gathered, cutting tomatoes and catching up on each other's lives. A game of horseshoes took place down the hill, the clang of shoe to metal post ringing through the park. On the other side of the playground, a basketball game drew others, laughter just as prevalent as the swish of ball through net. As cars zipped by on the road, I felt safe. To say love was ever-present sounds corny and melodramatic, but it's the only way to describe how a recovery-oriented social function feels -- it's like a family reunion. I gave and received dozens of hugs, from familiar faces and new ones. We ate and we laughed and we talked, sometimes seriously, about our lives and our programs. We are family, and we do love each other -- mostly because we're so very grateful to be alive. Each morning that I wake up without a desire to get high is a gift. Everything that follows during that day, good and bad, is a blessing. And those in recovery with me feel the same way. We're blessed with a second chance, because we've all been to hell and back in our active addiction. We give each other hope, and keep each other grounded in reality. In essence, we help each other make it through one more day without getting high. And that's what it's about -- and why we say the therapeutic value of one addict helping another is without parallel. We can't live in the shame of the past or dwell on the worries of the future -- all we have is the day that we're in, and recovery teaches us to make the most of it. Saturday, we seized the day. We savored it, letting the sun warm faces and bodies that most of us hid away in darkness when we were using. We ran and jumped and played, using muscles that for years saw no exercise other than that which was required to get more dope. We felt feelings -- happiness, joy, laughter and even the uncomfortable feelings like worry and sadness -- that we hadn't allowed ourselves to feel for years, and we were grateful to feel every one. We used our minds, to listen to what others in recovery had to tell us and figure out how to apply it to our own programs. And we found gratitude in staying clean, for one more day, secure in the company of a loving and supportive fellowship. Steve Wildsmith is a recovering drug addict and the Weekend editor for The Daily Times. Contact him at or at 981-1144. - --- MAP posted-by: Keith Brilhart