The Lord gave us two ends – one to sit on and the other to think with. Success depends on which one we use the most. ~ Ann Landers
Attitude is everything. 
A poor and pessimistic outlook, and a willingness to settle for less had always plagued me and ensured a frustrating life of mediocrity.
I never expected or demanded success, happiness, or good things to come my way. Instead, I’d just shrug and expect the worst. If anything better happened, then that was okay, too.
It all stemmed from a rock bottom self-esteem, and the nagging belief I wasn’t an especially deserving person.
Instead of showing up, doing my best and excelling, I adopted a litany of excuses: If only; Yeah but; What if– or my personal favorites – The sun was in my eyes; The dog ate my homework…
At some point that defeatist attitude was replaced with a solid hope for the future, and the abiding faith that if I did the right thing, the right thing would happen. Lame excuses were replaced with a solid work ethic.
It all stemmed from the fact that I was hanging with the winners. Their good attitude, gentle nurturing, and their belief in me rubbed off in a big way.
BE ADVISED: 
When you join Alcoholics Anonymous, your drinking becomes Irrevocably ruined.
Once you cease getting wasted, you’ll suddenly find the time to do the stuff you always wanted to do. And the ambition to achieve things you believed were beyond your grasp….
When you start hanging around high-quality people who refuse to accept lame excuses and unacceptable behavior, you’ll evolve into a high-quality person. It’s funny how that works…I didn’t see it in myself, but I was a loser when I spent all my time associating with losers.
When you embrace sobriety and follow a path that leads to character, you’ll revert to your true, worthwhile self. You probably won’t notice it, but others will spot it immediately.
I was a few months into my sobriety when it became clear I was on the right path, and here to stay.
CASE IN POINT
The Mashpee Sunday Morning Speaker Meeting was a huge affair of at least four hundred people in attendance. I looked forward to that meeting all week, and it was not to be missed.
Traditionally, the last Sunday of the month was Anniversary Sunday. With all the enthusiastic family & friends who showed up, attendance would swell to well over a thousand. Celebrants would be called up on stage to receive their chips or medallions. It was a very big deal. Dorna, an appealing and attractive older woman was tasked with giving them out.
Amid all kinds of clapping and cheering, Dorna handed me my three-month chip. As I started to walk away I noticed a discrepancy, and abruptly stopped, “Hold on, this is for six months.”
She gave me a little wave of dismissal, “Don’t worry, you aren’t going anywhere!” It may have just been an offhanded remark for her, but for me it meant a lot: It meant someone I respected knew who I was, what I was doing, and had faith I wasn’t going to screw this thing up.
People were aware of the changes in me when I started making Alcoholics Anonymous my priority; My coworkers, my friends…and especially my family.
This was apparent when my father approached me one morning, “I was talking to your mother, and you know what she told me?”
“No, Pop, what did Mom say?” He looked at me pointedly, “She said she got her boy back.”
God made sure an obtuse guy like me got the message; Fisher, you’re in this thing to stay. Once you make it here, embrace the fact that you’ve arrived. You’re not going anywhere.
IT’S IRONIC:
My membership in Alcoholics Anonymous is by far the most important, the most significant, the most precious and the most meaningful commodity I could ever hope to possess. But it has absolutely no trade-in value; it can’t be pawned or swapped…and it’s not something I feel compelled to include on my resume.
At this station in life, I’ve been a member of Alcoholics Anonymous longer than I haven’t. Yes, I’m the proud medallion-toting member of the most exclusive club nobody ever wanted to join.
Wherever I may go I can meet and relate to all kinds of people who understand what it’s like to live on the brink and come back from the dead.
What we have transcends race, religion, language, education or vocation. We are survivors who share a sense of loyalty, and a sense of family.
HERE’S THE TAKEAWAY:
I can confidently walk into any meeting anywhere and connect with people in a special way. Those are my people.
When I was in Junior High School back in the ‘70’s, I took shop class (commonly known as ‘Industrial Arts’). It was one of those classes I didn’t fool around in. Mainly because the teacher scared the hell out of me. Stern, scowling and dour, he wasn’t someone to mess with…Fast Forward to twelve years later. I am now an AA newcomer. Lo and behold, I met that very Industrial Arts teacher at a meeting, and sure enough, he remembered me.
I approached him, “Hi Mr… He quickly corrected me, “You call me Leo. Here, sit next to me…let me get you some coffee.” We got to know each other as equals, and I couldn’t believe he was such a great guy.
When I felt comfortable, I broached the subject, “Leo, don’t take this the wrong way, but you used to scare the living crap out of me.” He laughed, “That’s because I was always hung over.”
In time, I would run into several old teachers and former employers. It turned out that we had a lot more in common than I’d ever imagined.
Wherever I go, the meetings and my people are never far away.
I am no longer a slave to my addictions, and I no longer despise myself, freely settling for less. The Promises don’t just come true. They become an ongoing condition of your life.
If someone asked me to predict what my future life was going to be like when I was a newcomer, I’d have seriously shortchanged myself.
It took me a long time to get here, and considering all the improvements, I’m here to stay.
The Best is Yet to Come. 