Organized Into Oblivion

When I was first sober, embracing the Twelve Traditions was no more complicated than listening to them being read after each meeting. Through those early phases of desperate fog, it certainly seemed to me that this newfound heaven called sobriety could never be in danger of collapse either from outside assault or internal confusion. What was already in place was already deeply rooted. Rather naive. But after all, I was sober about five years at the time, my home group was doing well, and a group I attended on a regular basis was blossoming by incredible leaps.