(Adapted for personal use from Courage to Change in Alanon.)
Beginning with today, I can decide to contribute to a sense of well-being, by taking one small action that may strengthen a relationship, lead me closer to a goal or "help me to feel better about myself." As the author of today's CTC says, strides in life begin with very small steps.
I can take the initiative and ask for a sponsor, reach out to a newcomer, or look for a 12-step meeting that suits my needs.
Today's author proposes other possibilities, "Perhaps I will do something I am afraid to do, just for the heck of it. I might pick up groceries for a sick friend, fix a wobbling table, read a book to stimulate my mind. Maybe I’ll meditate on one of the Twelve Steps or share my experience, strength and hope with someone who wants me to share it.
Today's author proposes other possibilities, "Perhaps I will do something I am afraid to do, just for the heck of it. I might pick up groceries for a sick friend, fix a wobbling table, read a book to stimulate my mind. Maybe I’ll meditate on one of the Twelve Steps or share my experience, strength and hope with someone who wants me to share it.
There are so many ways in which I can improve the quality of my life. Instead of fretting about what I can’t have or can’t do, I’ll take action to create one small positive thing in my life today. And I will have no expectations for the result."
“To improve the golden moment of opportunity, and to catch the good that is within our reach, is the great art of life.” Samuel Johnson
Strides in life begin with very small steps.
ReplyDeleteSo, what small thing can I do with this day or with tomorrow? These days I find it best to begin with me, by taking care of myself, body mind and spirit. I can make one small effort to care for my physical health, by taking a walk or keeping my doctor's appointments. I can nourish myself with a home-cooked meal, listen to music, or clean out a drawer.
My first things first today was meditation. It came right after breakfast. Later, I volunteered at school (and was so pleased that I was my "normal" self, unhampered by fear), made some progress on a writing project, and treated myself to lunch. And though I was going to be late for Valentine's, I wrote three friends and bought my husband and brother a card. One friend has m.s. and I am so privileged to have known her since my undergraduate years-- she's incredibly resourceful in dealing with her illness, and has had to learn to put her health first. Another friend had witnessed my relapse in November, and we are "carding" each other every few weeks or so (as she is coming back from a ferocious depression). The third friend is a few states away, and written me faithfully for some 20 years. I'd missed corresponding her with due to my need to focus on my recovery this past two months.
As I can tell from my letter-writing, I also benefit when I can reach out to others.