This is why I write this blog, whether anyone reads it or not. Tonight I found out just how close a new resentment is. It's a close as my nearest meeting. I also found out that the silliest damn thing can prompt the resentment.
So, what happened? I have a nervous habit of folding the buck I have for the 7th Tradition basket. Sometimes I fold it into a picture frame, sometimes a cone shaped so the words "Federal Reserve Note" can be read. Occasionally, I'll break down and do the simple football. I don't know why I do it, it's just something to do with my hands while I'm listening. In business meetings I doodle, in AA meetings I play with my money. Heck, my sponsor's seen me fold it up and whisper to me "Boy, you ain't right..." Maybe not, but I know I'm not the only one.
Anyway, I did the cone tonight and dropped it in the basket when it came past. Now I was sitting just a couple of chairs away from the man who is current group secretary. When the basket came back around to him he saw my creation, pulled it out of the basket and tossed it back to me. I just grinned and pushed it back. He gave me a strange look and sent it back. So I pocketed it and went back to listening to the man who was sharing on the night's topic.
I don't know if he expected me to unroll it or replace it, but I've handled lots of baskets during meetings and have encountered bills in all kinds of shapes and conditions. As far as I'm concerned you take what you get.
Immediately, though, I felt the old responses start up in those "bad neighborhoods" in my mind. Thoughts of "screw him," "what a jerk," "I don't need this crap," all started whirling around. And if I let them continue to whirl I'll whirl my ass right out of there.
So I write it down instead and I'll share it with my sponsor and I'll laugh about it. Because the resentment I started feeling was caused by my disease. Maybe the secretary has his own problem to deal with, maybe not. But, that's his side of the street. I've taken care of mine!
