Specialness to Spaciousness

 I grew up trying to find that door which would take me to ‘specialness’. The ones with welcome mats were marked “Art”, “Writing”, and “Performing”. The one some tried to direct me towards was “Sports”; I was a tall girl, so basketball would be so perfect! Girl, I tripped over my own legs when trying for that Blue Ribbon on Field Day. I couldn't walk to school without at least once weekly kicking my ankles bloody. No, that kind of Special was not for me.

It was that need which I brought with me to the rooms of AA—I apparently couldn’t drink in a socially acceptable way, but I didn’t fit my personal description of what an alcoholic looked like. I was too special for that. Too special to admit truly to myself that I was powerless over alcohol. I, like every other unique person in the rooms, was an exception to the bits I didn’t like.

Hearing my story over and over again, and reading all about myself in the literature, is what broke through the wall that ego built. Gratitude for it all helps me to clear away the detritus of that wall. My ego is a sneaky little bugger, and tries to rebuild, so I have to do the work of clearing it’s materials away. This happens every time I express thanks for what is.

With the wall down, I get to enjoy the spaciousness of possibility, the power of acceptance coupled with right action, the beauty of This Moment. That is truly special.