Please note: While A.A. publishes daily reflections in books like "Daily Reflections," the specific text varies by edition and country. This essay is an original composition designed to capture the essence of the Tuesday focus in recovery: Taking Personal Inventory.
Terminamos esta reflexión con una oración escrita específicamente para el día de hoy, por un miembro antiguo de AA en Madrid:
"Señor, en este martes sin brillo, sin fiesta y sin excusas. No te pido felicidad, te pide disciplina. No te poder, te pido humildad para admitir que un sorbo me devolverá al pantano. Ayúdame a encontrar la estaca de la reunión de las 8 p.m., y dame la honestidad de decir 'estoy mal' cuando alguien me pregunte cómo estoy. Amén."
Tu padrino o madrina no espera una llamada el martes. Hazlo ahora. Dile: "Hoy es martes y mi cabeza quiere justificar un trago después del trabajo. Necesito tres minutos de tu experiencia."
Imaginemos a un hombre condenado a muerte en un pantano de fango movedizo. Cada vez que intenta salir, el barro lo succiona más rápido. Su única oportunidad de supervivencia es una estaca clavada en el centro del barro. Cada lunes, el hombre jura que se agarrará de esa estaca. Pero el pantano (la adicción) es cálido, oscuro y promete alivio. El lunes por la noche, suelta la estaca.
Cuando llega el martes por la mañana, el hombre despierta más hundido que nunca. Sus brazos apenas alcanzan la punta de la estaca. Ya no puede jurar "nunca más", porque sabe que es mentira. Este es el estado del alcohólico crónico.
Alcoholicos Anonimos no es una cura mágica. Es el diseño perfecto de una estaca rústica, sólida y áspera. La reflexión de hoy (martes) nos enseña que el grupo no está ahí para sacarte del pantano; está ahí para recordarte que tienes manos para sujetarte.
El alcohólico en activo busca la dosis perfecta: la borrachera sin resaca, la fiesta sin el precio. En AA aprendemos que eso no existe. El martes nos enfrenta a la monotonía de la sobriedad. Es fácil no beber el sábado cuando todos aplauden. Es difícil no beber el martes a las 3:00 p.m., cuando nadie te ve, el silencio pesa y la mente susurra: "Una sola no hace daño".
Hoy es martes: un nuevo día para practicar la honestidad con nosotros mismos y con los demás. En el programa aprendemos que la recuperación no es un destino sino una práctica diaria; cada decisión consciente fortalece nuestra voluntad y nos aleja un paso más de la soledad que acompaña al alcoholismo. alcoholicos anonimos reflexion del dia martes exclusive
Pequeños pasos sostenidos forman un camino sólido. Si hoy te sientes vulnerable, pide apoyo: una llamada a un compañero de grupo, asistir a una reunión o leer estas líneas puede ser el acto de cuidado que necesitas.
Frase para hoy: “Un día a la vez: el valor de seguir intentando, aunque sea con pasos pequeños.”
Basado en el Libro Grande y las experiencias compartidas en miles de grupos hispanohablantes, esta reflexión exclusiva nos ofrece tres promesas específicas para el día martes:
The fluorescent lights of the church basement hummed, a low, steady drone that Arthur usually found comforting. But tonight, it was grating on his nerves. It was Tuesday evening. The topic was "Exclusive Focus."
Arthur sat in the back row, his coffee cooling in his hands. He had been sober for three years, a fact that used to fill him with pride. Lately, however, it just made him tired.
"Welcome," the leader, a woman named Sarah with kind eyes and twenty years of sobriety, began. "Tonight’s reflection asks us to look at the word ‘Exclusive.’ Specifically, how we try to live in the solution, exclusively. It suggests that when we split our focus—one foot in the program, one foot in our old ways—we find no peace. But when we make our recovery an exclusive priority, the obsession lifts."
Arthur shifted in his metal chair. Exclusive priority. The words felt heavy. He had a promotion coming up at the firm. He had a wife at home who was tired of him working late. He had a son who needed help with math homework. He had a thousand demands, and the program was just supposed to be the tool that helped him manage them. It wasn’t supposed to be the main thing. The main thing was his life. AA was just the maintenance crew.
"Arthur?" Sarah’s voice cut through his thoughts. "Would you like to share?" Please note: While A
Arthur stood. He adjusted his tie—a habit from his drinking days when he always felt the need to look perfect to hide the shaking hands.
"I’m struggling with the concept," Arthur admitted, his voice rough. "I haven't picked up a drink in three years. I do my steps. I call my sponsor. But I don't feel... free. I feel like I’m running a race with a backpack full of rocks. You say ‘exclusive focus,’ but I have a life to live. I can’t just live in these rooms."
He sat down. The room was silent for a moment. Then, an older man in the front row, a man named Elias who rarely spoke, raised his hand. Elias turned around slowly to face Arthur.
"Tuesday," Elias said, his voice raspy. "Do you know why I like Tuesdays, Arthur?"
Arthur shook his head.
"Because on Tuesdays, I don't have to do it all. I just have to do Tuesday," Elias said. "You say you have a life to live. But when you were drinking, did you have a life? Or did you just have a schedule you were trying to survive?"
Arthur looked at his shoes. The scuff on his left loafer seemed enormous.
"When I came in," Elias continued, "they told me that my thinking was the problem, not just the booze. I was trying to be a CEO, a father, a husband, a friend, and a saint, all at once. I was trying to control every outcome. And I drank to shut out the noise of my own expectations." La Oración Exclusiva del Martes Terminamos esta reflexión
Elias leaned forward. "The reflection says ‘exclusive.’ It doesn’t mean you ignore your family or your job. It means you exclusively rely on the principles of this program to handle them. You’re trying to run the show again, Arthur. You’re trying to carry the rocks. You haven't actually let go; you've just stopped drinking while holding them."
Arthur felt a prickly heat rise up his neck. He realized he had spent the last month obsessing over the promotion, terrified he would fail, terrified he would succeed and have more work. He had been treating his recovery like a membership card he kept in his wallet, rather than a way of life.
"The 'exclusive' part," Elias said softly, "isn't about shutting out the world. It's about shutting out the fear. It's making an exclusive pact with your Higher Power: I will do the footwork, You handle the results. If you are feeling that heavy, Arthur, it’s because you picked up the reins again. Put them down."
The meeting ended with the Serenity Prayer. As Arthur stood to leave, he didn't rush out to check his emails. He stayed to help stack the chairs.
He walked to his car under the streetlights. He looked up at the sky. It was a clear Tuesday night. He felt the weight of the promotion still there, and the guilt about his wife. But he also heard Elias’s words echo in his mind: Put them down.
For tonight, his job was simple. He would go home. He would apologize to his wife for being distant. He would help his son with math. He wouldn't worry about Wednesday. He wouldn't worry about the company merger. He would maintain an exclusive focus on the next right thing.
He unlocked his car, but before getting in, he whispered a short prayer—not for success, but for willingness. For the first time in months, the heavy backpack felt a little lighter. He realized that the 'exclusive' gift of AA wasn't a restriction; it was the freedom to live fully in just one day.
No te quedes solo en la lectura. Para que esta reflexión del día martes tenga poder, debes realizar una acción de recuperación que rompa el ciclo de la locura alcohólica: