She’s most grateful to be sharing the Unity experience with someone else in recovery. Just then, the wife of a friend of mine in recovery, Nancy, greets me enthusiastically. 51st Street, I’m seized by rebellion, “Screw this. As I approach the entrance to Unity on W. I’m forlorn, I’m heartbroken, I’m raging. I want to kill, or at least seriously injure, her lover, Tom.”
What good will meditation do? I want my wife back. The closer I get to Unity Center, the more ambivalent I become: “This is stupid. A couple of weeks ago, I celebrated my first year anniversary of being sober by the grace of Alcoholics Anonymous. I immediately moved out of our Gramercy Park apartment and am temporarily living in my office. Several days ago, I discovered my second wife having an affair. I’m in a most discordant state of mind, rather of a dither really. I’m most ambivalent as I walk on this crisp, bright, late fall day in mid-November of 1973. I’m on my way to attend a first meditation experience. I’m walking to Unity Center in the old Abbey Victoria Hotel in Midtown from my office on E.
Though vastly different, it rivals in intensity the one reported by co-founder Bill Wilson: What follows is an account I recently wrote about this “white-light” experience. It was in the Unity Center auditorium, which in the 70s was a popular gathering place for many New York City area alcoholics.
I had my first meditation experience early in my second year of recovery, shortly after I received my one-year medallion at the original Manhattan Group in New York City in November of 1973. Meditation makes a difference in my day-to-day life in long term recovery.
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