No doubt about it, I am my own worst critic.
The only person who expects perfection from me is me.
News Flash: I’m not perfect. Nobody’s perfect.
I show up, do the best I can, and leave the results to God. That’s all there is to it.
It’s a tall order for a controlling type A perfectionist.
Hell, it’s daunting for anybody.
Everything doesn’t have to be presented in chronological or alphabetical format.
Every loose end doesn’t always need to be neatly and conveniently tied up. I always wanted to control everything. That kind of control is an illusion.
When I embraced Alcoholics Anonymous, I needed to unlearn everything, and live in faith. Easier said than done.
Faith is not about everything turning out OK; Faith is about being OK no matter how things turn out.
When we tell you to “keep coming back,” it’s not a conspiracy to get your buck in the basket.
There’s no sinister plot to attract a free labor force of newcomers to make coffee and set up chairs.
We know what works:
This requires nothing less than a persistent and prolonged effort. I need to have A.A. waterboarded into me on a daily basis. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
By the way, it’s not a coffee commitment, it’s a Coffee privilege. Making coffee & getting active gave me purpose and saved my life.
I need to be around people who are doing this stuff.
People who spent a lifetime burning bridges and humiliating themselves.
People who understand what it’s like to exist in fear, anger, shame and self-loathing;
People just like me.
No one expects me to always hit a three point jump shot from the corner. They don’t expect perfection, and I don’t expect it from them.
They just want me to show up and do my best.
If your friends have to be perfect, you won’t have any friends, because nobody’s perfect.
There have been so many days when the the most significant thing I did was not drink.
And that’s it.
It’s kind of a big deal for an alcoholic, but a bitter disappointment for a grandiose perfectionist.
When I was a student at Barnstable High School, I didn’t sidle into my Guidance Counselor’s office and say, “Hey Mr. Buck, what classes should I take that’ll help me burn my life to the ground, and get to Alcoholics Anonymous by the time I’m 24? It just happened, and here I am. This is the path God wants me to take.
HERE'S THE TAKEAWAY:
Something happened that I didn’t anticipate:
I stuck around and became an A.A. Elder Statesman.
While I wasn’t paying attention, all The Promises came true.
At meetings I hear people say, “My best thinking got me here.”
I respectfully disagree.
It was other peoples’ best praying that got me to Alcoholics Anonymous.
Being here is God’s gift to me. What I do with it is my gift to God.
