Compliments

After an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting a few days ago a bunch of us were standing around outside, as usual, recapping the meeting, asking for clarification and joking around with each other. We call this "The meeting after the meeting". Some rather interesting ideas and perspectives often come to light and frequently I find myself pondering these things for a day or so afterwards. At this particular after-meeting we somehow got to talking about compliments and what was the best compliment we had ever received. Of course, there were a bunch of smart mouth comments. It was a group of recovering alcoholics for crying out loud! We were all laughing as the meeting broke up but I found myself thinking it over as I drove away. What is the greatest compliment I have ever received? I asked the old HP to help me.

Like most of us, when I first came into recovery I was judgmental and critical of other people. Very rarely did I consider any body's feelings but my own. I did not trust anyone and I believed that words were weapons, as opposed to a form of communication. I regarded everyone with suspicion and questioned every ones motives, certain that they were, somehow, trying to con me. The truth is, that is the way I used to behave but of course, that never occurred to me. It wasn't until I'd worked a few steps with a sponsor that I discovered that shining sterling quality in myself.

Back to the compliment issue. I wasn't searching for the flattering statements that every sponsor gets when their pigeons are approaching the 4th step (although you gotta admit those are fun to talk over with them later). Nor was I thinking about the approving comments we get and give when others are in agreement with our beliefs. I was looking for something that maybe spoke to my character.

There is a guy in the program and we attend some of the same AA meetings. He is a big guy - a really big guy. Tall, broad and muscular; that kind of big. (The guy has an unusual nickname, but in order to protect his anonymity, I'll just use Terry.) Terry used to be in one of the scary biker organizations that most of us know about. Most of his visible skin was covered by tattoo's. (I say most because, thankfully, I've never seen him without clothes.) And most of the tattoo's were acquired years ago, while he was in prison. Terry has been sober for a couple of years. He was raised in foster homes. Terry never knew his sire (his word) and his mom had died when he was young. His socialization skills lack a bit of polish and although Terry is very intelligent, he is not highly educated. He hides these things behind an intimidating, hard nosed attitude. The softer emotions are difficult for him, but if you treat him with love, understanding and encouragement, you have gained a very valuable friend. He has a quirky sense of humor that I find delightful and his story is fascinating.

One day we were in a meeting together and, as the meeting was finishing up, someone hollered: "Camp fire meeting at my place Friday at 6 p.m. Bring hors d'oeuvres to share!" I was picking up the remnants of my presence when Terry came up to me and, bending way down, gave me a hug. This was an unusual, though not a rare, thing for him to do. Then he whispered in my ear, "What's an hors d'oeuvre?"

That is the greatest compliment I've ever received. A tough, rough, mean and scary looking ex-biker felt comfortable enough to let me know he didn't understand something that seemed common knowledge to the rest of us. He trusted me to not expose or belittle his vulnerability. I'm just a middle-aged, middle class, garden variety female alcoholic, trying to stay sober and do the will of my old HP. Yet he chose me! I am so grateful to the old HP for taking who I used to be and turning me into someone capable of humbly accepting a confidence of such magnitude. And recognizing the old HP's grace in my ability to treat it with respect.

What is the best compliment you have ever received?

Have a good and sober day.