And here's more about that meeting, as it's been on my mind all night. I was just giggling to myself because I kind of feel like I went there with this stance of a stuffy tourist observing the wild, restless natives. Mostly, my impression of the meeting was positive...there were some people there who were really honest, strong, and earnest in wanting to help others. I liked all the talk about keeping the doors open to other people and how the newcomers are the most important people there. There was a lot of hugging. There was a good energy in the room.
But there was a part of me that wanted to say, "This is all wrong! Sit down! Be quiet! Turn off your phones! Good God don't pass the basket around this room! Junkies steal! Read louder! Don't talk out of turn!"
And there was this other detached, journalistic part of me that was already composing my post about it before I even left. I couldn't wait to get home and call Vowels and tell her all about it. I couldn't wait to get online and write about it. I kind of want to talk about it at my meeting--raise it as a burning issue:
"I've been spying! I went to THEIR meeting! It's an emergency! They do it wrong over there! We need to go fix their meetings and help them out! They're never going to get fixed if they keep talking out of turn like that!"
And then we could all march across the hall and show them how it's done.
Silly natives! Here's how you build a fire! Here's how you cook your meat! Here's how you pray and love and dress and live!
I also laughed at the thought of that wonderful cat in a wizard suit, and how I could fix them all if I'd just unveil the wonderful, glowing poonahnah of victory that I had hidden away under my MPJ-inspired hippy skirt. It looks something like this, but with a wizard hat:
