Sometimes, meetings, if one has recovered by using the twelve-step programme diligently and consistently, can be depressing: an unending sequence of recitals of current dysfunction, conveyed either through a catalogue of mishaps or a series of cute insights and minute descriptions of immature thinking and emotion. Lots of nodding, echoing, mirroring. No discussion of alcoholism beyond the general awfulness of it all, no reference to sponsorship, steps, or programme solutions. All that is offered by way of remedy is 'coming here' and 'sharing about it'. The people are lovely, but one feels there are two fellowships of AA, with barely any communication or transition between the two.
After a few decades this can become a little grating.
Why bother?
Firstly, because I am reminded of the problem (drunk and sober). Secondly, I can carry a message: maybe there will be one person who is interested in a solution and able to listen and take on board. Thirdly, I can be friendly and kind to the people there. Fourthly, continual presence creates awareness: very often, people will contact me years after I have last seen them, to say that they really need a solution, and they recall me from such-and-such a meeting, asking if I can help. Fifthly, meetings are excellent opportunities to practise patience and tolerance. Sixthly, they can be a constant reminder of 'Thy will, not mine, be done'. Seventhly, they remind me of my powerlessness over others and my ignorance of the bigger picture: who am I to say what this or that person needs? Eighthly, the people are usually sober: I can practise gratitude for their sobriety. Ninthly, these people (including me) are not somewhere else: someone once told me that, when I was at a meeting, I was giving everyone else in my life a break from me. Tenthly, God can work with any material, and God's objectives will be achieved through the meeting, whether or not I can see it.