Meeting Frozen in Time

This week I visited a meeting that felt like opening a time capsule. An older woman I hadn’t seen in years texted to check in and said her meeting had moved online but was struggling. A decade ago I’d attended a few meetings where she was secretary, though it was never my home group — I liked her and the meeting was friendly, but the timing never fit my schedule.

About once a month I drop into a Zoom meeting just to listen. Yesterday I decided to join hers. There were no newcomers; I’d guess the youngest attendee was around sixty and most had ten or more years sober. It felt like time had stopped for them. I’d heard many of the same boilerplate shares I’ve heard at meetings for years.

One man always begins with a personal affirmation — “I’m good enough, smart enough, and people like me” — then welcomes newcomers (there were none yesterday), gives a witty summary of his drinking history, praises AA, and finally says something related to the topic, which yesterday was gratitude.

He’d been giving essentially the same share at meetings years ago, and he wasn’t the only one. I recognized repeated share phrases from the friend who reached out and boilerplates from a few other old-timers as well. It felt like they were stuck in a loop, repeating the same short speeches.

Being trapped in that loop can’t be good for anyone’s psyche. It’s part of what I ultimately found oppressive about the program — there’s often little visible evidence of personal growth among members. That may be an exaggeration, but for me it felt like the program stifled my sense of well-being and growth.