Every year I am part of a New Year’s 12-Step retreat.  Usually, we meet from the evening of December 30 through noon on January 1.  It’s special to me because we gather people from all the “A” programs, so we get to hear wisdom from many different locations.  That retreat was where I first put together that I was eating like I used to drink.

This year was different – of course!  We couldn’t gather at the retreat house like we usually do.  We met on Zoom instead.  And that meant that people who couldn’t afford to come, or couldn’t travel, could attend.  There was a wonderful mix of familiar faces and new friends.

Each year there’s a theme, something we can all share.  This year the theme was “Going to Any Length” – appropriate for this extraordinary time in all our lives.  We traced our histories – what lengths did we go to in order to maintain our addictions?  What lengths did we go to in early recovery, or whenever times got hard?  And then we considered: what length am I willing to go to this year?  What scares me about that?  What hopes do I have for this year? 

I got some inspiration from someone who told me a slogan I hadn’t heard.  This is, again, one of the gifts I get from being with people beyond my normal range of meetings – so many slogans!  This year I got “Q-TIP”: Quit Taking It Personally.  This spoke right to me.  I take so much personally!  I assume that everyone is noticing and intending everything they do, so if the woman I live with doesn’t clean the coffee pot, she meant to leave it for me.  If any chore is left, anything “obviously” out of place, she must be expecting that I’ll take care of it.  There’s a resentment just waiting for an excuse.

Over time, I’m learning how to have conversations that clear things up.  I’ve learned that my companion honestly doesn’t see everything I do, and doesn’t particularly care about the coffee pot until the next time it’s needed.  It’s not personal.

I don’t need to “protect” myself by fostering a resentment.  I need to protect myself by noticing my reactions and assumptions, and asking God to show me a better way.

So now I have a Q-Tip on my desk, in the lap of my little stuffed lamb Agnes Day.  As I write this she’s holding it, reminding me that I am loved and I am safe – even if the kitchen is not as neat as I’d like it to be!  I don’t have to drink, or eat, or rant about it.  I can decide what to do.  Sometimes I’ll clean the pot.  Sometimes, now, I too let it sit until needed.  But if the little voice of resentment starts up, I remember: this coffee pot is not about me.  My companion’s difference in temperament and observation is not about me. 

This year one of the lengths I’m going to is to keep that Q-tip close.  I’ll call my sponsor and other recovering folks if I start to think it’s personal – whatever it is – from the coffee pot to the state of the environment.  What’s personal is my thoughts, my actions, my relationship to God.  If I pay attention to that, I will bring peace and healing to my corner of the world.