guide in getting sober, staying sober, and enjoying our sobriety. Whether we see the Serenity Prayer as an actual prayer or just as a fervent wish, it offers a simple prescription for a healthy emotional life.
We've put one thing right at the head of the list among "the things we cannot change": our alcoholism. No matter what we do, we know that tomorrow we won't suddenly be nonalcoholic—any more than well be ten years younger or she inches taller.
We couldn't change our alcoholism. But we didn't say meekly, "All right, I'm an alcoholic. Guess 111 just have to drink myself to death." There was something we could change. We didn't have to be drunk alcoholics. We could become sober alcoholics. Yes, that did take courage. And we needed a flash of wisdom to see that it was possible, that we could change ourselves.
For us, that was only the first, most obvious use for the Serenity Prayer. The further away we get from the last drink, the more beautiful and the more packed with meaning these few lines become.
We can apply them to everyday situations, the kind we used to run away from, into the bottle.
By way of example: "I hate this job. Do I have to stick with it, or can I quit?" A little wisdom comes into play: "Well, if I do quit, the next few weeks or months may be rough, but if I have the guts to take it—'the courage to change'—I think I'll wind up in a better spot."
Or the answer may be: "Let's face it—this is no time for me to go job-hunting, not with a family to support. Besides, here I am six weeks sober, and my AA. friends say I'd better not start making any drastic changes in my life just yet—better concentrate on not taking that first drink, and wait till I get my head straightened out. Okay, I can't change the job right now. But maybe I can change my own attitude. Let's see. How can I learn to accept the job serenely?"
That word "serenity" looked like an impossible goal when we first saw the prayer. In fact, if serenity meant apathy, bitter resignation, or stolid endurance, then we didn't even want to aim at it. But we found that serenity meant no such thing. When it comes to us now, it is more as plain recognition—a clear-eyed, realistic way of seeing the world, accompanied by inner peace and strength. Serenity is like a gyroscope that lets us keep our balance no matter what turbulence swirls around us. And that is a state of mind worth aiming for.
8 Changing old routines
Certain set times, familiar places, and regular activities associated with drinking have been woven closely into the fabric of our lives. Like fatigue, hunger, loneliness, anger, and over elation, these old routines can prove to be traps dangerous to our sobriety.
When we first stopped drinking, many of us found it useful to look back at the habits surrounding our drinking and, whenever possible, to change a lot of the small things connected with drinking.
To illustrate: Many who used to begin the day with an eye-opener in the bathroom now head for coffee in the kitchen. Some of us shifted the order of things we did to prepare for the day, such as eating before bathing and dressing, or vice versa. A change in brands of toothpaste and mouthwash (be careful about the alcohol content!) gave us a fresh, different taste to start out with. We tried a little exercise or a few quiet moments of contemplation or meditation before plunging into the day.
Many of us also learned to try a new route when we first left the house in the morning, not passing by a familiar watering hole. Some have switched from the car to a train, from the subway to a bicycle, from a bus to walking. Others joined a different car pool.
Whether our drinking was in the commuter bar car, the neighborhood gin mill, the kitchen, the country club, or the garage, each of us can spot pretty exactly his or her own favorite drinking locale. Whether we were the occasional bender-thrower or the round-the-clock wine sipper, each of us knows for himself or herself what days,