The Prodigal Interpreter
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When November 4, 2009 came to be I was not aware it would be the last time I would pick up my hands to do what I love most and that is to interpret for clients who needed an Interpreter. I love my job and have a passion for it that few things have ever come close to. So when I finally got fired from my last gasp job I broke inside in a way I never thought possible.
On February 19th and 20th 2011 I would enter the interpreting professional world for the first time since then. A lot of these people I would have not seen since I was fired from my favorite job ever back in February 2008. So needless to say I has some trepidations, but I really wanted to go and for the first time, the real first time I was okay and doing better than I had ever been.
I did not get much sleep during the approaching days and in a way that was a blessing because being bone tired has a way of dulling strong emotions. When time came for me to go I wanted to have a real good first impression and I thought dressing up would do that. Then, I realized I was falling into my old traps of external verifications rather than the genuine internal ones. So, I dressed as I would if I were still around all this time. I wore a collard shirt, blue jeans and tennis shoes. On my drive over I was not really particularly scared, but I was curious about how I would be accepted. My demise as a unreliable interpreter who was a drunk was no secret to many who would be attending. My thoughts landed on Robyn and I became sad that I had caused her so much harm. In fact I wrote her a small note letting her know I would be attending so she would not be taken aback by my presence. I also, left the door open for her to contact me if she so desired and she closed it with grace and kindness. In fact she said she would welcome seeing me with open arms, but would not be willing to sit and talk because I broke her heart. That was a very heavy moment when I read that, but I understood very clearly that she needed space and that she still cared for me deeply.
I arrive and park with thoughts of excitement to be back where I had fit perfectly professionally. I decided I would be myself and just allow things to take their course regardless how I felt about them. As I walked in a great sense of humility wafted over me and peace sat by it's side. The first person I saw was Christina and her eyes glistened with great excitement and her arms encircled me with the love of a long lost friend. Little by little people came over to me and filled the room with compassion, kindness, jubilation and most of all grace. I have never felt so much love in one room for me. Now don't get me wrong it was not all about me, but I could feel the positive energy in the room. I was very much the Prodigal Interpreter that was welcomed with every spec of humanity and respect. In fact many knew of my hospitalization and were happy for my survival. I found out that there was a prayer group for me and my recovery. Most were not sure of why I was in the hospital, but they knew things were grave. Others knew and did not mention the overdose, but said they prayed for me and were so grateful for my life. They were grateful I was alive, how beautiful is that. Humility can heal a wound so deep that one is capable of healing from the inside out in an instant.
As the workshop progressed I felt like the interpreter who once was. Passionate, exhilarating, involved, joyful and professional. I did have some doubts from time to time, but those moments were no different than before. In fact those were me critically thinking about my work, which I believe makes me an excellent interpreter. During breaks former colloquies would come up and thank me for my input other would want to further discuss a point I made. I received countless complements for my insight and wanted to know more about what I thought. I was so taken by it all that hope became a reality for me, that I could go back and be accepted and better than ever before.
The Big Book of AA has stories just like mine. People who lost it all, work, self-respect, dignity, integrity, licenses, opportunities. Then they talk about how they came into AA and slowly but surely doors would begin to open and life would not look like it once had, but greater. Today I believe those stories to be absolutely true because I have just experience a glimpse of it and it was fucking amazing.
The Promises of Alcoholics Anonymous have several points to be made, but of those this weekend provided these for me:
We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness.
We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace.
The feeling of uselessness and self pity will disappear.
Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change.
Fear of people will leave us.
We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.
I am falling in love with Alcoholics Anonymous all over again and I am grateful for it.
When November 4, 2009 came to be I was not aware it would be the last time I would pick up my hands to do what I love most and that is to interpret for clients who needed an Interpreter. I love my job and have a passion for it that few things have ever come close to. So when I finally got fired from my last gasp job I broke inside in a way I never thought possible.
On February 19th and 20th 2011 I would enter the interpreting professional world for the first time since then. A lot of these people I would have not seen since I was fired from my favorite job ever back in February 2008. So needless to say I has some trepidations, but I really wanted to go and for the first time, the real first time I was okay and doing better than I had ever been.
I did not get much sleep during the approaching days and in a way that was a blessing because being bone tired has a way of dulling strong emotions. When time came for me to go I wanted to have a real good first impression and I thought dressing up would do that. Then, I realized I was falling into my old traps of external verifications rather than the genuine internal ones. So, I dressed as I would if I were still around all this time. I wore a collard shirt, blue jeans and tennis shoes. On my drive over I was not really particularly scared, but I was curious about how I would be accepted. My demise as a unreliable interpreter who was a drunk was no secret to many who would be attending. My thoughts landed on Robyn and I became sad that I had caused her so much harm. In fact I wrote her a small note letting her know I would be attending so she would not be taken aback by my presence. I also, left the door open for her to contact me if she so desired and she closed it with grace and kindness. In fact she said she would welcome seeing me with open arms, but would not be willing to sit and talk because I broke her heart. That was a very heavy moment when I read that, but I understood very clearly that she needed space and that she still cared for me deeply.
I arrive and park with thoughts of excitement to be back where I had fit perfectly professionally. I decided I would be myself and just allow things to take their course regardless how I felt about them. As I walked in a great sense of humility wafted over me and peace sat by it's side. The first person I saw was Christina and her eyes glistened with great excitement and her arms encircled me with the love of a long lost friend. Little by little people came over to me and filled the room with compassion, kindness, jubilation and most of all grace. I have never felt so much love in one room for me. Now don't get me wrong it was not all about me, but I could feel the positive energy in the room. I was very much the Prodigal Interpreter that was welcomed with every spec of humanity and respect. In fact many knew of my hospitalization and were happy for my survival. I found out that there was a prayer group for me and my recovery. Most were not sure of why I was in the hospital, but they knew things were grave. Others knew and did not mention the overdose, but said they prayed for me and were so grateful for my life. They were grateful I was alive, how beautiful is that. Humility can heal a wound so deep that one is capable of healing from the inside out in an instant.
As the workshop progressed I felt like the interpreter who once was. Passionate, exhilarating, involved, joyful and professional. I did have some doubts from time to time, but those moments were no different than before. In fact those were me critically thinking about my work, which I believe makes me an excellent interpreter. During breaks former colloquies would come up and thank me for my input other would want to further discuss a point I made. I received countless complements for my insight and wanted to know more about what I thought. I was so taken by it all that hope became a reality for me, that I could go back and be accepted and better than ever before.
The Big Book of AA has stories just like mine. People who lost it all, work, self-respect, dignity, integrity, licenses, opportunities. Then they talk about how they came into AA and slowly but surely doors would begin to open and life would not look like it once had, but greater. Today I believe those stories to be absolutely true because I have just experience a glimpse of it and it was fucking amazing.
The Promises of Alcoholics Anonymous have several points to be made, but of those this weekend provided these for me:
We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness.
We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace.
The feeling of uselessness and self pity will disappear.
Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change.
Fear of people will leave us.
We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.
I am falling in love with Alcoholics Anonymous all over again and I am grateful for it.
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