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Tradition 3 : The only requirement for OA membership is a desire to stop eating compulsively.
The Traditions tend to be a little boring because they focus on how I relate to others while the Steps are more my thing because they’re all about Me. I’ve even heard it described as The Steps prevent me from committing suicide and The Traditions prevent me from committing homicide. Well, that actually sounds pretty good to me because my anger can feel all-encompassing. And it was how I can help, and not harm, my fellow primates that brought me to these rooms and to The Twelve & Twelve. The spiritual principle behind Tradition Three is Identity; the knowledge of where I stop and where others begin, a boundary between what is mine and the business of all the rest of the world. For most of my life I confused my own taking a stand on issues with minding other people’s business. This need to change or fix minds and opinions grew from a massive void in self-identity. I confused the ability to convince, cajole or crush people into agreeing with me with my own self-worth. In these rooms I’ve learned I am already enough—even if nothing at all changes—I am a beautiful child of God, both fascinatingly unique and remarkably insignificant at the very same time, no greater than or less than anyone else. Pride in reverse is still an excess of pride. Recently, I met with a personal trainer and in 22 years in the field he had never met someone who has altered their phenotype in the extreme way that I have. One thing he mentioned was how he has clients who whine—his word, not mine—about 28 pounds to lose and give up, while I’m someone who has lost two hundred and eighty pounds and keeps on going. I smiled but I didn’t say anything because I’ve also learned that I don’t always need to correct people, that things don’t have to be either-or, they are often both-and. I’ve learned my mouth can sometimes yammer on trying to build me into something oversized. And, I have learned what Identity means. We live in a time where lots of our friends, family and neighbors believe “my pain trumps your pain.” And “what I have suffered is so much worse that what you’ll ever know.” This collective sense of terminal uniqueness further divides us and is best summed up in the title of one of my favorite rock songs: You don’t know how it feels to be me. In these rooms I’ve learned the exact opposite. There are others who know how I feel. I am not so diabolically, horribly unique. I’ve learned not to compare pain. The misery I have felt being 300 pounds overweight unites me with the individual who has struggled for decades with thirty—it does not make me better, or worse. This Tradition reminds me to smash isolation because my identity hinges upon connection to others; my disease craves isolation, not me. To paraphrase an often used metaphor, we may have gotten here on different ships but we’re all in the same boat now, with a proper heading—Good Orderly Direction. by Alex P
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When I am blinded by the brilliance of the day,
I will turn to my faith. When I feel I have lost my way or question my journey, I will turn to my faith. If my fear has grown in my mind to cloud my sight, I will turn to my faith. If I need a rock during life’s powerful storms, I will turn to my faith. If I feel life overwhelming me by indecision, I will turn to my faith. If I am tempted to feel shame and self pity, I will turn to my faith. If I can’t get out of my own way to help another, I will turn to my faith. If my anger toward another is stronger than my forgiveness, I will turn to my faith. If I forget to take life one day at a time, I will turn to my faith. If I am working my program, I will find peace, and My program will be my faith. A prayer by Ginny G She decided to change.
Her friends saw it before she did. She changed her attitude; she did not assume change was bad. The world was no longer so scary. She changed her thinking of being frozen by the whole of life that she could not move, could not change. That fresh thinking changed the way she approached problems, by breaking them down into pieces she could finish. She changed her negative attitude toward life to a more positive one. She did not always think the worst of people places and things. And she finally knew she was not ruled by them. Her new attitude kept her from being affected by every changing wind. She changed what she valued. No longer was she a woman without a voice. She changed to a woman that felt she had a right to live a happy life. She changed from thinking that all her decisions, ideas and values were not as good as someone else’s. She decided to change her lonely approach to life by reaching out to HP and others for friendship. She noticed as she changed that her best friend food no longer was her only friend she turned to when she was sad. And bit by bit she needed others more than food. She started to change by seeing other things that kept her from reaching for whom she was meant to be. She changed the people surrounding her. She changed to people who wanted her to be healthy because they cared. These friends had nothing to gain or lose from her change. It took time for her to trust that these new feelings were OK, but she finally learned how to love. And that love was a better way to live than bitterness. She changed her stubborn attitude of never listening to reason, to determination when it was the right move. She changed from thinking she always had the answers to someone who was willing to listen to what the real answer were. She changed from thinking she would fall apart if she made mistakes, to thinking all humans make mistakes. Why should she be better than everyone else? All and all she changed just about everything she had come to meetings with. Changing was not something she saw coming. She didn’t think about being ready for change. She put no thought into how to change. All she did was show up and be open to change. -Ginny G From the July 18th meeting of the OA Young People's Committee:
Meeting Minutes--yp_minutes_7-18-21.docx For over three years I have enjoyed the blessings of abstinence and recovery from compulsive overeating. How do I get through holidays and events abstinently? The answer is clear: no matter what the season, event or circumstance, abstinence continues to be the most important thing in my life without exception. "Whatever it takes," as we say in the rooms. We learn to follow spiritual principles and to live life on life's terms.
Societal pressure abounds with holiday celebrations. But for me, celebration is about maintaining solid and vigilant means of staying the course with my recovery. I don't waver from the way I live when holiday time is here. I've learned to replace comfort food with other comforts: relaxing with a warm bath; cuddling under my electric blanket with a good book; spending time with my sponsees; working with the various levels of program service; praying and meditating; spending time with my friends, family, hobbies, and music ministry; and expressing myself as a budding writer. The habit of staying close to these truths and living out the Steps has helped me maintain my footing and stability. In my addiction, I always found reasons to celebrate with food. Now I celebrate with abstinence! This makes holiday celebrations a completely different experience. I can be available for others as well as take care of myself. I no longer live with the insane focus, pain and guilt of compulsive overeating. I can give thanks and celebrate this freedom daily, not just during the holidays. Because I've forgiven others and myself, I have a deeper appreciation of God's amazing grace and love. I find ways to give that love, appreciation and understanding to others. The gift of giving is tied in with service, and it keeps on giving year round. Nothing is more celebratory to me than seeing someone's face light up or getting an email message saying someone finally feels hope. It's not my doing, because my Higher Power is working through me in the lives of others, but I can be a messenger in recovery and help bring hope to those who feel hopeless. I find joy and fulfillment and get back more than I give. My focus and lifestyle put me on a different playing field of a higher purpose for living. Celebrating with abstinence rocks! This article appeared in Lifeline, November 2010, p. 14, Copyright Overeaters Anonymous Inc. Was this post helpful? Let us know with a comment. I am a slow learner, which has been a shock to me.
In school I was one of the first to learn to read, to grasp a new concept and to finish a test. In my professional life, I found it easy to learn new ideas and face new challenges. Yet I have been in the rooms for almost two years and am beginning to think I know nothing. I've attended meetings, bought literature, got a sponsor, worked the Steps and done service, all the time searching for the elusive food plan everyone talked about. I had been in program nearly a year when I picked up Dignity of Choice and found it contained several food plans. How many times had I read it and never seen what it contained? Everyone has his or her own process. Some find the beginnings of physical recovery in a short time. Others, like me, find physical recovery elusive. After all, I came here because of my eating problem. Am I not supposed to be focused on that issue and seeing some results by now? The longer I stay, the more the answer appears to be no. I must deal with the inner turmoil before physical recovery will be possible. I have not been gracious about this discovery. Patience is one of the many things I'm beginning to learn. I've had little patience in my life, skimming across the surface of things looking for the "right answer" and then rushing off to the next thing. Patience hasn't been necessary. But as I work the Steps I have discovered that grasping and feeling concepts like willingness, gratitude and humility are necessary before I'll be allowed to move on. No longer will skimming be sufficient; I must learn to live. I had no idea I wasn't living until I began to do it. I didn't realize I was eating my weight in anger, fear, judgement, confusion and loneliness. I want recovery to come in an instant so I can be off to other things, but it comes in its own time. It will occupy me on some level, one day at a time, for the remainder of my life. What a huge lesson this has been. Some days I am comfortable and even joyful with that thought; some days not so much. I have been in these rooms for nearly two years, and I'm amazed at the dramatic changes in myself. As I've changed on the inside, my eating had changed. As I've changed on the inside, my eating had changed. I am more fully aware of what I do. I am grateful to be working this program, and I am willing to wait to see what tomorrow brings. I don't see changes in the mirror yet, but that will come if I keep coming back. This article appeared in LIfeline, August 2009, p. 10, Copyright Overeaters Anonymous Inc. Was this post helpful? Let us know with a comment. Before OA: 237 pounds (108 kg) of miserable me is sitting in my dirty, empty apartment. I don't have the time or the desire to clean or decorate my living space. I have a day off work, and it's a regular binge day. My stomach is stuffed from eating a breakfast of leftover binge food. I sit in front of the TV watching mindless shows to keep from acknowledging the guilt I feel over the junk I have just eaten. I feel tired because I didn't put nutritious food in my body to give myself energy. I feel lonely because I have trapped myself in an unhealthy, unhappy relationship with an emotionally unavailable man. He doesn't even want to spend time with me today. The TV is my best friend.
After OA: 165 pounds (75 kg) of peaceful me is writing this Lifeline article in my clean, beautiful apartment. I take pleasure in a home full of delightful art and pleasant reminders of my travels and adventures. I hire a maid to keep my apartment clean while I work and go to school. My priorities have straightened. I have a day off from school, and I offered the day to my Higher Power this morning in my Step-Eleven meditation time. My stomach is full of a warm, nutritious breakfast that I ate mindfully while sitting at the breakfast table with my loving husband. The day is full of self-care actions - studying and having pedicure and acupuncture appointments. However, these tasks don't define me. They simply enrich my life now that I have the energy to do them. I feel ready to explore my day because I have healthy food in my body. I feel loved and supported by my Higher Power, husband, friends and OA Fellowship. My before and after story is about before and after I connected with my Higher Power. OA allowed me to grasp a foothold on the spiritual path. Before program I attempted to meditate and commune with the divine, but I was too numbed out with food to feel my Higher Power's presence. For those of you who are still suffering, please know there is hope. If I can recover from compulsive overeating, you can too. Wishing you peace today! This article appeared in Lifeline, January 2009, p. 5. Copyright Overeaters Anonymous Inc. It was the first year we had the family over for the holidays. With our house situated near a hospital and a fire station, we were accustomed to the occasional wail of sirens. But the sound of emergency vehicles racing by with increased frequency on this holiday was especially unsettling. What was the reason? Accidents? House fires?
The next day, I read in the newspaper that the emergency ward was busy tending to people who had decided to celebrate the holidays by taking a break from following doctors' orders "just this once." Heart patients, who didn't want the side effects of their prescribed medications, didn't take them "just for one day"; diabetics ate too much sugar and made themselves dangerously ill; and alcoholics ended up sick or violent from out of control, celebratory drinking. When I think I "deserve" to overeat during the holidays, I know I am in denial about the insidious nature of this disease. Sugar is my cocaine, my alcohol and, ultimately, my poison. I fool myself if I believe I can magically turn the switch on and off at will. The disease never takes a holiday. My body reacts the same way to food as it did yesterday, as it will tomorrow and 365 days a year. Do I really want to deprive myself of a sane and happy holiday? I don't think so. Not his year. This article appeared in Lifeline, November 2009, p. 18. Copyright Overeaters Anonymous, Inc. It has followed me every place I've ever worked: the lure of unattended food! Particularly hard are Monday mornings. I walk into the office kitchen and find half-eaten birthday cake, seasonal candy or food from a weekend social function left by well-meaning coworkers. All it needs over it is a sign that says, "Eat me!" Any unattended food, be it cold, stale, broken or half-eaten, I will eat in no time.
Unattended food has always been one of my biggest temptations. I can easily justify eating it: it's left over; some coworker was kind enough to share it with others; it will spoil if it's not eaten today. The other scenario is a coworker passing my office, saying "Come on; they're having a birthday cake for John in the conference room!" Or "Come on; there's leftover food in the kitchen!" If I don't join them, they bring it to me! "Sorry you couldn't stop by, I brought you some food." Over the years, I've gotten better at dealing with the siren call of office ending machines. At least a few more steps are required to get it: I have to decide what to buy, remove coins from my pocket, insert the coins in the machine and make a selection. What's worked wonders for me over the years is carrying my 24-hour OA chip and my anniversary chip in with my loose change. That way, whenever I reach for change, I see the chips in my hand. In that moment, I have the opportunity to contemplate my next action. I can put the coins in the machine or put them back in my pocket. Sometimes sanity prevails and the coins go back in my pocket. I'm writing this the week before Halloween. In the kitchen in my office is an orange plastic pumpkin filled with individually wrapped candy. Fortunately, it emptied quickly the first day. To my horror, I found the next morning that gremlins had replenished the candy overnight. This has gone on every day. After Halloween, we will have several more days of a full pumpkin, thanks to parents bringing their children's candy to share with their coworkers. The next onslaught will be Christmas food. So for today, I move the pumpkin to a higher shelf in the kitchen, where others can access it but I don't have to look inside. The temptation of this unattended food is just too strong. If going to my office, closing the door and reading a daily meditation is not enough, I take a walk outside and ask my Higher Power for strength - not just for today, but for right now. Edited and reprinted from Novation newsletter, Northern Virginia Outreach Intergroup, November 2000. This article later appeared in Lifeline, November 2002, p. 14, Copyright Overeaters Anonymous Inc. rI came to OA to lose weight. I didn't know it, but I also came to lose the emotional pain that drove my being overweight.
I tried to smile and kid about my weight, but it was eating me up inside. I ate to escape painful feelings. In exchange, I received a new set of painful feelings and health problems. I tried every diet and every food fad. I thought I'd be better if I were thin. I failed in every way and felt miserable and hopeless. Eventually, my pain and failure were more overwhelming than my reasons for not trying OA. I thought I didn't have to buy the mumbo-jumbo about Higher Powers and God. Maybe the program would help me lose weight; that's what I wanted. I knew I could ignore all the religious claptrap. I thought to myself, "God, I've got nowhere else to go" (Did I say God?) I came and lost weight, but I found that if I only lost weight and gained nothing, then OA would be for me just a successful diet club. As with the diet clubs, success would invariably be followed by failure-at least for me. The OA program is not about losing weight, and it is not a diet club. The program is tough to maintain, but it is the way we achieve serenity and peace. These are the goals of the program, not losing weight. Now I deal better with all the things that drove me to food. I don't hold onto resentments. I don't wallow in guilt. I don't stay angry. I move on from my mistakes. I forgive those who hurt me. I have lost weight and kept it within or close to my target range. But my real achievement and feeling of success comes not from what I lost, but from what I gained - a far greater peace than I have ever know. -Edited and reprinted from Road to Recover newsletter Westchester United Intergroup, April 2001. This story was later reprinted in LifeLine, October 2002, p. 2., Copyright Overeaters Anonymous, Inc. |
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