The 12th step of our program suggests we “carry this message” to others. Many times our clients, after being with us a while, decide that they have "done enough."

One of the strongest principles of our program is reaching out, helping others to achieve sobriety. When people say they have "done enough" we look at this as a red flag. All of a sudden this client is not doing the things that helped him or her get sober.

When we confront them there are all kinds of excuses. They can't make a difference. They have a job. They found a sweetheart. They are just so busy. They don't have enough time sober. And they pull back from helping newcomers. But there are no good excuses for not carrying the message.

In our area there is a series of radio advertisements that encourage people to become foster parents. The advertisement is goofy, but effective. The foster parent says and does many stupid things while trying to be a good foster parent. However, he is not doing very well with it. The message is that a person doesn't need a lot of experience to be a foster parent. They just have to be willing to help a kid who needs a parent.

It's the same when we reach out to others in recovery. We don't have to be perfect. We don't have to spend hours. We have to be willing. If we have a period of sobriety then we have something to share.

For the past 19 years I've been willing to carry the message. After all those years I'm no authority on the literature. My message often falls short. But the simple fact that I'm willing to reach out helps the other person.

And, remember, newcomers look to someone with even a year of sobriety as an expert when it comes to staying sober.

A core concept in the program is "living one day at a time." But how does that square with goals for the future? Do we just drift through life without any plans, happily living sober one day at a time?

When I first got sober this concept troubled me somewhat. I learned as a child that I needed to plan for the future. And until alcohol and drugs interfered and derailed my life, that's what I did. So when I got sober, this is one of the things I had to work my way through.

For me, these many years later, one day at a time means that I make my plans but that I still live in the moment. This may sound like being at cross purposes. But in reality it is not. In my mind, I'm able to separate these two seemingly conflicting concepts.

I apply "one day at a time" to the areas of my life that involve strong emotions like fear, resentment, anger or insecurity. For example, if I get worried about the future it's nice to realize that I don't have to do anything today. If I'm living one day at a time those powerful emotions don't have to drive me crazy and back to a drink or a drug.

For me, the kinds of things that I need to make plans about beyond today are such things as investments, education, or decisions about where I choose to live in retirement if I decide to do that.

The concept of “one day at a time” gives me a powerful tool for staying sober when I'm in the grip of powerful emotions.

The attack of 9/11 is unforgettable. When the towers came crashing down our world changed. Because I live under the flight path few miles from the Phoenix airport, and many planes take off and land directly over my house, I remember the eerie quiet of the sky for several days afterward. The impact of that tragic day touched us all in some way.

As time went on I would periodically use the event as an example during our peer counseling groups, usually in the context of making the most of our lives today. I tell those in my groups that the victims awoke that morning and went about their life as they would on any other. Many had dinner dates for that evening. Others prepared a crock pot of food. Others left their pet at the groomers, to be picked up later that day. Some had plans to get their children from daycare.

I point out that some of us addicts and alcoholics live our lives as if we're going to be here forever. We waste days and nights, hours and years pursuing drugs and alcohol trying to relive the unattainable first rush. It never happens.

Many times those I counsel act as if their drinking and drugging career will keep them from ever attaining anything. I respond that the important thing is what they do today, that they can do nothing about the past.

If anything, 9/11 illustrates the unpredictability and uncertainty of life.

The e-mail surprised me. It was from a former client that many of us didn't expect to see again. When he left us in mid-2007, he had relapsed and some of us didn't think he would survive.

It is not unusual for clients to leave because they have relapsed – and many of them return to try again. But this man's situation was unique. He had lost his kidneys a few years before entering our program. He had previously received a transplant which didn't work. He received dialysis a few times a week during his time at TLC. He struggled with his health and fought the doctor's instructions that he shouldn't drink sodas. To many of us, the idea that someone without kidneys would start using again demonstrated for us the power of our disease.

His e-mail said he had been sober for three years, was in town on vacation, and would like to drop by the office. It was a good visit and he told how his life is going. He lives in another state with his fiancee and will soon graduate from nursing school. He goes to dialysis a few times a week and is on a transplant waiting list for a new kidney.

I asked how he had finally changed and was able to remain sober for over three years. He explained that he started accepting his situation and that made all the difference. He said that once he got into acceptance his life began to change. He accepts the hours-long drudgery of being hooked to a machine. Sometimes he reads, sometimes he studies, sometimes he naps. His life has been working and he is enjoying his sobriety.

It says on page 417 in the literature that “acceptance is the answer to all my problems today.”

It seems like this former client has successfully incorporated the concept into his life.

Recovery literature gives us the phrase "we are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness." This is a wonderful promise, one that I realized had come into my life a few years after I got sober. At first this freedom and happiness seemed unreal. This new state of being was something that I was not used to and sometimes I didn't know how to deal with it.

The reason I didn't know how to deal it was because I hadn't had any experience with it since early childhood. During my drinking and drugging years I didn't know anything about freedom and happiness. I knew a lot about self-induced misery and a lot about having no freedom. While I believe the authors of the promises weren't necessarily talking about being out of jail, for many years I didn't have any kind of freedom. I didn't have the psychological kind and I was often incarcerated for drug-related offenses. And I didn't have any kind of real happiness either.

Today I know how to deal with freedom and happiness. In sobriety I have learned how to use my freedom wisely and use it to live my life to the fullest. I have the freedom to choose what kind of work I do. Early in my sobriety I chose to work in a field where I am able to help others in recovery on a daily basis.

And this is happiness in itself.

At the gym the other day one of the regulars and I were discussing politics. His perception was that the country was not liberal enough. My perception was the country was trending to be too liberal. The point of this is not to discuss politics but to talk about how perception sometimes affect our lives.

As recovering people our perceptions can sometimes lead us down the wrong path. Our disease may tell us that things are different from the way they really are. We may believe that we should be further ahead in life than we are. We may work alongside someone who is much younger than we are who's making more money than we do. We may perceive this as being unfair. After all, don't we have more experience than this person? Don't we have more education?

However, we might not consider that we have spent years drinking and drugging while the person beside us has been steadily – and soberly - employed. While we were frivolously hanging out in bars or drug houses our co-worker was trudging to work every day. The person beside has as earned their position with the company along with their salary. But our disease may tell us something different.

If I walk outside and the sky is overcast, I can choose to be depressed. Or, I can see in the overcast sky the rhythms of nature. I can find beauty in changing weather patterns.

I can drive to work and run into a construction zone and become angry. I can say things like "it seems like they are always working on the roads." This kind of observation can start my day off badly. It would have been just as easy for me to say something like "isn't it wonderful that our tax dollars are being spent on improving the highway?"

So how do we change our perceptions? I believe that we make the decision to look at the world in a positive way. And I think that one of the ways we become positive is to base our life upon a positive foundation of rock solid gratitude.
We might ask what we have to be grateful for? We can answer that question by looking around us. If we live in the United States we can be grateful for the security we have. We live in a country that is full of riches. Opportunities abound everywhere. Even in these so-called tough times, 90% of the people have jobs. We can drive down the street and see people who don't have homes who are pushing shopping carts.

While it may be their choice to live that way, at least we're not living that way.

Someone asked me recently about TLC's success rate. In other words how many of our clients stayed sober once they left the program? And how many failed while they were still in the program? I said that I didn't know, that we couldn't afford to track those kind of statistics.

The person then asked me if I became discouraged when people relapsed after all the effort we put into helping them. I repeated for him a story someone once told me. It was about a man who was walking along a beach covered with thousands of starfish that had washed ashore during a storm.

During his walk every so often the man would reach down and pick up one of the starfish and throw it back into the water. He repeated this for a half-mile or so of his walk. Finally, a man who was observing what he was doing stopped him.

"What are you doing?" The man asked.

"Saving starfish," the man responded.

"Yeah, but there are thousands of starfish on this beach," the questioner told him. "You're not going to make much difference."

"It'll make a difference to the one I threw back in the water," the man replied.

The point of this maybe apocryphal tale is obvious. If we can help even one person, then our efforts are not in vain. Early on I used to get depressed because it seemed like so many people were relapsing. But today I realize that the important thing is that we make the effort.

The results are up to God.