Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof

"Bloom where you are planted"
"Just deal with what's in front of you"
"One day at a time"

Early in sobriety when I heard these sayings I interpreted them as "Live like there is no tomorrow!" which is what I had been doing a along while drinking, so it didn't seem I needed to worry about this one, right?

"Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." If living one day at a time was so simple then why was it important enough to mention it a couple of thousand years ago as one of the base requirements for developing a spiritual life?

I didn't need to worry about it until the first day in early sobriety when the cravings wouldn't stop and I had to hold on to those saying for dear life because I knew if I could just make it to bedtime I would stay sober for another day.
So I finally understood, those sayings meant "If you can go one day without a drink, you'll be ok". It was comforting in its own little way. And yet if being able to stay sober for the rest of my life did it mean sobriety was going to be a daily barrage of "Tough shit, don't drink" battles? Then what the hell did I need AA for? There had to be something more.

There was more of course, there was the Steps. In my first year I went through the Steps to the point that by my one year anniversary I was making my amends list, doing daily meditation, and starting to work with others. The obsession to drink was beginning to leave me. And as my one year anniversary approached I did what my sponsor suggested, I booked myself to speak at a number of meetings to celebrate one year of sobriety.

I spoke at at least three meetings and received a medallion at each one. My friends in the program and out called me and congratulated me on my anniversary. It was an incredible feeling of accomplishment that lasted for as long as it took me to drive home. I was emotionally unstable leading up to the one year mark, and even for a few weeks after. It took a while before I felt like things were back to normal again. I was told it was all completely normal, there was even a name for what I was experiencing; "PMS" or "Pre (or Post) Medallion Syndrome". I was, as they said, "right where I was supposed to be." Right where I was supposed to be, maybe, but as far as I was concerned that kind of upheaval, even if to celebrate my sobriety, kind of sucked if you asked me.

When I approached year two it was even worse. Not only because of the "PMS" and my larger base of friends in recovery to receive accolades from, but also because I had had to get through the previous year without collecting a monthly token to mark my progress with. By the time I had passed the two year mark I was starting to think that maybe I would just avoid celebrating my anniversary from then on. It was clear I did not handle it well. By year three I had a new sponsor and when I told him about my plans to avoid celebrating my anniversary he told me that he understood, but that I was celebrating not myself and my accomplishments but Alcoholics Anonymous. He also reminded me that I was getting a medallion to show others that it could work. When I celebrated with these things in mind I was able to get through the process with less turmoil and a better sense of peace. I still didn't like it, but I could live with it.

After a few years even this seemed wrong to me. I just couldn't reconcile myself with the fact that we spend all year helping the newcomer learn how to live a day at a time, helping them realize that they are powerless over their own drinking and how to surrender and trust their life to care of a higher power. We talk to them about humility and reliance upon God, and then after a year we congratulate them as if they did it all themselves. We make mini speeches about how inspiring they are to us, call then "powers of example" and present them with big shiny tokens to mark a year's efforts... What the hell happened to "keeping it in the day"? It all seemed utterly insane to me. Barbaric and contradictory, and clearly something I still needed to work through.

Then it dawned on me… I never could do it myself. I was never able to stop drinking without AA and I have no doubt that I wouldn't be able to remain sober without it. I never liked being congratulated on staying sober because what I really needed to do was thank everyone who helped me stay sober. My anniversary is the perfect time to reflect on who helped me get where I was and thank them for helping me get there. Somewhere around eight or nine years I did just that. I woke up on my anniversary and started making phone calls. I called everyone I could think of in my circle of recovery friends who had helped me that past year and thanked them I also thanked the God of my understanding. It was tough and it was humbling calling all those people. Each time I dialed a number I felt like it was just unnecessary and foolish, like I was just bothering everyone for no reason or going to extremes for no reason. After all, they knew what they meant to me, right?

It's amazing how the ego works. I could find a bunch of reasons why I didn't need to call and thank people, but it was easier to let someone stand up at a meeting and say nice things about me. Some of the most difficult, but most fulfilling phone calls, were to new guys. The ones I had been working with who kept slipping and drinking. Those were really the ones who had been keeping me sober, that's why I worked with others, right? When I thanked them I felt something inside I had rarely felt before, real gratitude and humility (And a little humor. There is something funny about the dead silence on the other end of the phone followed by "Ummm.. you're welcome I guess?!" that goes beyond funny.)

When I started doing this on my anniversary I suddenly was able to connect with the real weight of what it takes to keep this alcoholic sober. The people I call when my ass is on fire; The new guys I sponsor and help who slip and try to hide in their shame; The unwavering members I can count on to be at my home group no matter what; The God I can turn to day or night that didn't exist when I first came to AA. But the best thing to come out of this was the true feeling that this was was finally "just another day", only different in that it is a day that helps me reflect on how much work it is for someone like me to live in the present when it goes against my nature. I had finally managed to learn how "live in the day" and to treat a year like a day. When I did that I began to move away from turmoil and in to peace, which is what I had been looking for all along. And for me it took for more action. Someone said it more easily, long before me: "Faith without works is dead."