In this blog post, we’ll explore how to structure a 3-minute speech for those presenting at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, focusing on creating a flow that conveys sincerity and empathy.
Hello.
First, I wonder if I’m truly worthy of standing here. I’ve lived a life filled with shame and inadequacy for far too long. Yet, the words of my therapist yesterday gave me immense strength. She told me that those who conquer themselves are the greatest of all. She made it clear that I, possessing the courage to change my weak and flawed self, am not a small or insignificant being.
I wish to pass these words on to you exactly as they were given. As you know, we have all endured similar wounds and suffering. I know my own weakness—how I only came to my senses after losing everything, including my family, by drowning in alcohol after losing my job. I know our shared weakness—how we sought to forget our weary reality, even briefly, by leaning on that addictive substance called alcohol. Today, alcohol dependence is medically classified as a disease, and it has been proven to be a complex problem that cannot be explained solely by a lack of personal willpower. Nevertheless, haven’t we taken this step back up through this treatment group? To live like human beings, didn’t we endure pain like cutting our own flesh, overcome alcohol, and ultimately conquer ourselves?
I recall the meju at my grandmother’s rural home. That meju—a mass of beans firmly packed and molded after being stomped for a long time, then tied with straw and hung under the eaves—could only become the doenjang that graced the morning table after enduring, enduring, enduring through the long winter in a room devoid of sunlight. Recent research indicates that traditional fermentation processes take months to complete, during which time deep flavor and aroma are perfected. Similarly, for a lump of clay to become pottery, it must endure flames exceeding 1000 degrees. Only by overcoming the blazing fire within the kiln can it be reborn as a sturdy, useful vessel.
We are the people who have crossed that fiery time, that grueling time of fermentation. Throughout my life, many pointed fingers at me. Some said I lived an inhuman life. The words my child’s mother left me when she walked out were not much different. Looking back, it was a muddy life filled only with regret, utterly shameful.
But friends, let us applaud ourselves here today. To reach this point where we can sleep without drinking, to be reborn into a life worthy of humanity, we have traversed days as thorny as a field of thistles. We were cut and wounded countless times, enduring moments when we wanted to collapse again. Having passed through that process, no one can easily point fingers at us now.
I believe this: all the pain I endured has made me stronger, and I believe the same is true for you. I believe our lives have endured such hardship and toil precisely to become the strongest, most beautiful vessels possible. Just as pottery fired in the kiln does not break easily, just as fermented soybean paste aged through time does not spoil easily, our transformation will never be trivial.
I feel deep camaraderie with all of you gathered here today. Knowing each other’s wounds, understanding each other’s struggles, and having walked the same path, we are never lonely beings. I dare say: I am proud of us.
I am sincerely grateful that you listened to this inadequate person’s words to the end. I believe the resolve and courage we shared today will further strengthen our lives going forward, and I express my deepest gratitude once again.
