God-Centeredness and Lessons from the Basketball Court

“We sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with Gas as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.” – Step Eleven

I often joke that I am the only child to have grown up in Indiana who could not play basketball. My earliest attempts at playing date back to my time in elementary school. Back then, there was no such thing as a hoop for children. If you wanted to play, you shot for a basket that was ten feet above the gym floor. So, my less-than-muscular arms never could quite throw the ball high enough to have a chance.

So, I was very impressed by our sixth-grade social studies teacher who also coached the sixth grade basketball team. He had played college basketball, and could shoot the ball from all over the court. Most impressive to me was the fact that he could be facing away from the basket, spin and shoot, making a basket without having aimed at all.

“Remember boys, the basket never moves. It always stays in the same place, so if you just remember where it is, you can shoot the ball toward it. The more you practice, the better you will get.”

Though I still lacked the basic skills needed to sink a basket, I at least learned the lesson he sent that day. Eventually I did come to know instinctively where the basket was. Yet, my arms never did give me the strength needed to consistently make a basket. Stupid. Baby. Arms!

Of course, it might have helped if I had exercised them!

The goal of the Eleventh Step is very much like my teacher’s ability to sink a basket without having to take time to carefully take aim. As I walk throughout each day, there are times when I have plenty of time to consider what God’s will is in a given situation. However, there are also plenty of times when I have to take a spinning jump-shot without time to ponder His will. At those times, I need to be as oriented toward His will as my teacher was toward the basket. I also need the strength to carry out God’s will.

That orientation and strength come as a result of my time invested in prayer and meditation. I almost wrote “… a result of my time spent in prayer and meditation;” but as I wrote, I realized that this time each morning truly is an investment. This is my practice time. Time that not only draws me closer to God, motivating me to seek His will; but also the strength I need to carry it out.

I’m thankful for the example set by my sixth-grade social studies teacher that day. I’m sure he would never have imagined that his words and actions that day would still be impacting one of those boys he was trying to help learn to play basketball all these years later. Regardless, he definitely set an example for me that went far beyond basketball. An example that helps me today, to live a God-centered life.

Have a remarkable day!

Gratitude and a Clean Car

Tuesday morning, I had a few minutes free before I needed to meet with a business associate of mine. So, I took time for a project that I’d been putting off for weeks.

I dampened a wash cloth and put a little dish soap on it, and grabbed a clean hand towel. Armed with those two things, I went out to my car to wipe down the inside of the windshield. A light film had built up over time, and it needed to be removed.

If anyone saw me out there, I’m sure they would have thought that I had chosen an odd place for such a task. In all reality, they would have been right. That is the kind of thing I should have done at home; but at home, there seems to always be something better or more pressing to be done. So, there I was, cleaning my car’s interior in a hotel parking lot in Hot Springs, Arkansas.

I’ve owned that car for exactly four years this month. I know this because it is this month that I make the final payment on it. As I cleaned, I thought about how excited I was the first time I drove it after purchasing it. It is the nicest, best equipped car I’ve ever owned; and on that first day, I had a great deal of satisfaction being behind the wheel. It was a feeling accentuated by the fact that not long before that day, I had thought that I would never own nice things again because of where my drug addiction had taken me. In fact, I had convinced myself that I would never again be worthy of nice things.

The more I thought about those initial emotions from four years ago, the more I cleaned. First, I tackled every inch of window from inside the car. Then, I applied the damp soapy cloth to the front seats and dash board. Finally, I noticed a couple of spots on the headliner that needed my attention. Before long, that old satisfaction I’d experienced on that first day of ownership was back.

This story, in a nutshell, explains why the practice of gratitude is so vital to me and my recovery. When I practice gratitude, I am reminded of the goodness that fills my life today. In the same way that cleaning the car reflects my appreciation of it, taking time to reflect on life’s goodness helps me to recall just how precious it is.

As I cleaned, I thought of the past 23 months. On the 25th day of each of those months, $600 was automatically drafted from my checking account to make the monthly payment. I had rounded up each payment to a flat $600, which makes this month’s final payment significantly less. I never missed a payment. The car never went uninsured. Nor has it ever missed any needed service or repairs. That’s because I depend on it for my livelihood.

It has driven me from Western Kansas to Eastern Arkansas, and all points in between. It has taken my family on vacations. It has protected us from stormy days. It even tells me when I am getting too close to the edge of the road, or to another car.

Am I still talking about my car? Sounds a lot like my recovery.

That is because both the car and my recovery require my regular, ongoing attention. Practicing gratitude allows me to give both the attention they require. Like paying a bit more each month on my car loan, investing a little bit more each day into my recovery pays huge dividends in the future. Today, I can look back with gratitude at how far I have come. Though I still (and expect I always will) pay a price for my addiction to drugs, that price grows continually smaller over time. For that, I am extremely grateful.

Have a remarkable day!

Kindness, Weather, and Fall Decorations

Yesterday, I came home to find that fall had broken out all over our home. Amanda had ventured into the attic to retrieve our fall decorations, and had carefully, and lovingly placed them throughout the living room, kitchen, and entryway. It is beautiful!

For her birthday a week and a half ago, I had done a deep clean in the rooms she decorated. She had said that it was all she wanted for her birthday, and that she knew it would help motivate her to decorate for the season. Then, night-before-last, she had to turn on the furnace, as temperatures dipped into the 20’s. She said that between the deep cleaning, and the furnace, she found the motivation she needed to decorate.

There is no telling what would have happened had we continued to experience warmer than usual weather. If the temperatures had not dropped, we might have moved from summer décor, right into Christmas. It was the combination of clean and cold that made the difference. A combination of something I could influence, with something over which I had absolutely no influence.

Practicing kindness is a lot like doing that deep cleaning that Amanda requested. When I show kindness to someone else, I am given the opportunity to influence their outlook on life. Sometimes, that kindness offers another person only a momentary distraction from their day. Holding the door for someone at the convenience store is an example of this sort of kindness.

Sometimes, I hold the door, and the person passing by seems to barely notice. They rush by with neither a smile nor a glance. At other times, holding the door for a passing stranger is met with an enthusiastic smile, and a loud “Thank you.” It’s like rolling the dice, because I can never be sure of the outcome.

That is why it is important for me to remember that practicing kindness is not a quid pro quo transaction. I must not allow myself to fall into the trap of expecting a positive response to my kindness; because in every person’s life, there are things that my kindness cannot influence. Things like the weather.

For most of us, when we come into recovery, life’s “weather” has cast a dark shadow over almost every aspect of our existence. I was so defeated when I was introduced to recovery, that accepting people’s acts of kindness toward me presented a huge challenge. I kept wondering what the catch was. What did these people expect in return?

That skepticism also prevented me from showing kindness to others without expecting something in return. Like the house, I was clean, but still dealing with “weather” I believed to be beyond my ability to influence. It turned out that it was easier to relapse, than to face a “clean house” that I could not bear to decorate.

That is why working the Twelve Steps with a sponsor is so vital for addicts in recovery. The process of working the steps is really a process of changing the weather. It takes those parts of life that seem beyond my ability to influence, issues from the past that I thought would always haunt me, and gives me influence over them. Through the step-working process, I learn to free myself of the influence the past once held over me.

The longer I worked, and the more thorough I was, the more freedom I found. The weather began to change, and I became able to accept kindness from others. I was free to decorate!

In addition to the ability to accept acts of kindness from others at face value, I have also learned to practice kindness without expectation of receiving anything in return. Today, if I hold the door for someone else, and there is no acknowledgement, I realize that they are likely dealing with weather of their own. My job is not to judge them for their struggles; but rather, to offer kindness in the midst of life’s storms.

Have a remarkable day!

Kindness Makes a Comeback

For all I know he’s dead by now. In fact I would say it is pretty likely. However, his act of kindness toward me lives on. I think of him, and his kind words every time I see a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.

Growing up where I did, I rode my bicycle pretty much everywhere. My best friend, Ed lived a little over two miles from our home, and I rode over to his house regularly. From there, Ed and I would ride pretty much anywhere we wanted to, so long as we didn’t cross over U.S. Highway 41. It was a four-lane highway with a lot of traffic, and our parents were dead set against any of us crossing it.

Ed had discovered a place where we could buy candy bars without breaking the rule about Highway 41. There was a tractor dealership that had a vending machine in the lobby, and Ed told me that we could sit and eat our candy bars in air-conditioned comfort, while watching farmers come into the dealership for parts, to buy tractors, or just to chat.

While I was not at all sure about the appeal of sitting there eavesdropping on conversations between farmers and dealership employees, I was sure about the candy bar. So, with change in our pockets, we set off to our destination.

After Ed bought his candy, it was my turn. I put in my coins, and turned the knob to buy a Reese’s. When my candy bar dropped, a second dropped with it. So, I walked over to the counter, and got the attention of the man standing behind it. “Umm, the machine gave me two, but I only paid for one,” I said as I handed the second candy bar to him.

At first, I thought I was in trouble somehow. He called his co-worker over, and told him what had happened. As he did, he complimented me on my honesty. Then, both men agreed that I should keep the extra Reese’s cup as a reward for such honesty.

This was an act of kindness I still remember well, half a century later.

I doubt that fellow ever gave his kind words a second thought. Most likely, he got caught up in his next task at work, and paid little attention to Ed and me. Yet, his kindness has never been forgotten.

That is the power of practicing kindness. It is something I can give away with little thought or investment. Yet to the recipient, my act of kindness may have enduring value.

Kindness is one of those principles I learned early on from my parents. However, active addiction eroded the kindness from my life. It was replaced with harsh cynicism. Because of the kindness I was shown by other recovering addicts, kindness began to make a comeback in my life. Just as I had learned to be kind from my parents as a child, I once again learned it from other addicts.

I pray that as I practice kindness today, I would impact the lives of the people around me. Lord, help me to be an encouragement to others. Help me to reflect the kindness my parents taught me, that the man at the tractor dealership extended to me, and that I received when I needed it so badly early in my recovery.

Have a remarkable day!

Self-Discipline – Moving Away from a Vanity Sized Life

It was like a slap in the face!

Saturday afternoon, Amanda and I attended the wedding of a couple friends of ours. Attending weddings used to be a simple thing. Or, I should say, knowing what to wear to a wedding used to be simple. These days, it can be hard to know. It seems that at most weddings I’ve been to in recent years, everything from tuxedos to cut-off jeans could be seen on those in attendance.

Amanda – “Babe, what are you wearing?”

Me – “I was about to ask you that same thing.”

Amanda – “I asked first.”

Me – “Ok, well… I am just going to wear a dress shirt and slacks.”

Amanda – “Ok, thanks!”

It was that pair of slacks that slapped me in the face. I waded through my options, and settled on a pair of dark dress slacks. The label inside said they had a 42″ waist. I thought they might be a bit big, but who would notice, right? These days, I’m wearing blue jeans with a 36″ waist. Other pairs of pants that fit comfortably have a 40″ waist. So surely these would be fine. Loose even.

“Tight? What do you mean, tight? These should NOT be tight on me!”

Suddenly, I realized that I had fallen victim to something known as “Vanity Sizing.” It describes a phenomenon that is seen mostly in the US and Great Britain, where clothing sizes no longer mean what they once did. It is mostly seen in lady’s clothing. In some cases, vanity sizing can take a 1970 size 16 down to a 2022 size 10.

Saturday afternoon, I was presented with the hard truth that vanity sizing has now affected men’s clothing too. Though at first I was upset over the snug fit of my slacks, I came to realize that the number on the label really didn’t mean anything, because my clothes are not my judge.

Lately, I have been trying to apply self-discipline to the areas of diet and exercise. Instead of some kind of radical diet, I’ve just been trying to eat healthier foods. Fewer sugar based sweets, and more real foods. More riding my bicycle and less reminiscing about how much I miss cycling. That sort of thing. They are little changes that have been slowly making a difference in how I look and feel.

Self-discipline goes a bit further than my actions though. It also needs to affect my thoughts and perception. Where diet and exercise are concerned, self-discipline also includes developing a realistic self-image. Instead of depending on vanity sizing to make me feel better about myself, I need to develop a realistic set of metrics by which I can measure progress for myself; rather than depending on some outside source for affirmation.

The same holds true for my recovery. One of the things that made drug abuse appealing was the fact that meth had a way of vanity sizing my life. At first, that vanity sizing just meant that it made me feel more outgoing and confident. Soon, however, the vanity sizing offered by meth allowed me to look right past the way my life was falling apart.

The change was much more radical than a size 10 becoming a size 16. I completely lost myself to the drugs; but they vanity sized my thinking to believe everything was just fine. Better than just fine, actually. I thought meth was making me a better version of myself. Any metric I once had for measuring success or virtue went right out the door.

Getting clean was like putting on that pair of slacks. Suddenly, I was slapped in the face by reality. The drugs had been lying to me all along, and I had been all too happy to believe them. After all, they fed my vanity. They allowed me to ignore what was really happening.

For some, it seems that they can get clean, face the reality of what life has become, and begin to rebuild. I was not able to do that. Confronted with the realities of life, I retreated time and again back to the drugs. I had come to depend on that vanity sizing in order to cope with life. I NEEDED them.

Thankfully, I was given the chance to find something other than drugs to help me face life. Working through the Twelve Steps with my sponsor, introduced me to the spiritual principles that are behind recovery. Those principles provided me with a new metric for life. That metric is God’s will.

Seeking God’s will for my life, and the power to carry it out, does not require any vanity sizing. Instead, when I am living in accordance with spiritual principles, I am in His will. When I am allowing my character defects to drive my life, I am slipping back into that vanity sizing. Looking for something to tell me I’m ok in spite of myself.

So, today, I practice self-discipline by continuing to work the steps. They not only keep me grounded in terms of addiction, but also other areas of life that need addressing. Areas of life where my metrics have become distorted over time.

Have a remarkable day!

Awareness, Aircraft, and that Gnawing Feeling

There is a running joke in our family about any type of aircraft. When one flies over me, I look up to study it. Whether it is a commercial airliner, a Piper Cub, or a hospital helicopter, when I hear something in the sky, I look.

I especially enjoy seeing military aircraft. So, last Wednesday was a genuine treat. I was on a highway in that runs just north of Whiteman Air Force Base in Missouri. It is the home of the B2 Stealth Bomber. I’ve taken that highway several times recently while on my way to visit a new customer. Each time I’ve passed, I have watched, hoping to see one of the crazy looking aircraft. On Wednesday morning, that wait came to an end.

When I spotted it, the bomber seemed to be flying low and slow over the highway. I watched it bank to the right. Though the highway was pretty much empty at that early hour, I checked for traffic just the same. Then, when I looked back, the bomber seemed to have disappeared. I strained to see a thin dark line ascending into the sky. Then, it was gone.

Well, not gone, exactly. The B2 was still there. I just could not see it because, well, it’s a stealth aircraft. It is purposely designed to be hard to spot; either with the naked eye, or with radar.

Practicing awareness, where my spirit is involved, can be like looking up to the sky to spot an aircraft flying overhead. While my ears can tell the difference between the deep rumble of engines on a commercial airliner and the high pitched whine of corporate jet engines, I need my eyes to see the difference between a 737 and a larger 767 aircraft. Or to tell the difference between a hospital helicopter, and the one used by the Tulsa Police Department.

Last week was a difficult week for my spirit. I drove a lot of miles, spending three nights in a row in three different cities. Though it was a productive and necessary trip, it still took a toll on my spirit. I could hear a rumble in the distance, but could not tell what that rumble was. Whatever was bothering me was like that B2 Bomber once it had banked to the right. It was there, but I struggled to see it. Struggled to understand it.

Finally, after being dogged by these feelings for the better part of four days, I became aware of what was wrong. I was depressed. It was a feeling that was like the thin black profile of that B2. It had been there, gnawing at my consciousness, but just hard enough to spot that I failed to catch it early in the week. Making matters worse, once the darkness of depression begins to settle in, it becomes increasingly difficult to spot. Like that bomber, depression is stealthy, and is most dangerous when unseen.

Once aware of the issue, I was able to do the things I have learned to do in my recovery. I began taking deep, deliberate breaths. Inhaling, I would imagine the word “Peace” in my mind. As I exhaled, “Calm” was at the center of my thoughts. After only a few breaths, that darkness began to lift. No, my spirit wasn’t experiencing sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows everywhere; but it did begin to lift. I was no longer being controlled by the darkness depression brings.

It had been a while since depression had gotten hold of me in such a forceful manner. This experience was a good reminder that I need to practice awareness where it is concerned. With awareness, I have been able to spot it right after it has begun, like spotting that bomber so soon after taking off, when it was obvious and in plain sight. Last week, though, I had let my guard down, and was not practicing awareness where my spirit was concerned.

Tomorrow, I will be headed back out again for work. Thankfully, I am aware ahead of time that I need to pay close attention to the condition of my spirit. Even now, as I write, I am practicing that breathing technique, allowing peace and calm to replace angst and depression. I do not have to live in darkness. By practicing awareness, I can live in the light instead.

Have a remarkable day!

Honesty and Our Cookie Jar

Growing up, we had a cookie jar in the kitchen. It was sort of round in shape, with a variety of cookies that appeared attached to its sides. The handle on the lid was made to look like a walnut, I guess because cookies often have nuts? If I recall correctly, that cookie jar had been a gift from my dad’s sister Shirley, and her husband, Hank.

Oh, and the jar was ceramic. So, any time someone would take cookies from inside the jar, it made a certain sound – ceramic on ceramic. If I concentrate on it just a little, I can still hear that sound of the lid lifting off of, and being placed back on that jar.

“Mom, can I get a couple of cookies?” After asking her for the thousandth time, you’d have thought John and I would have realized that she was going to say “Yes.” If she ever denied us cookies, I sure can’t remember it. Her cookies were, and still are, famous; and that jar was always full. Even though our “couple of cookies” almost always meant three, Mom said “Yes.”

Sitting on my back porch this morning, enjoying coffee and reflecting on today’s spiritual principle of honesty, I thought back to my childhood. As my mind went back to those days, and the role honesty played in my upbringing, that cookie jar, and what it represented, came to mind.

Mom and Dad made being honest easy. I’m not one of those addicts with stories of neglect or abuse from their childhood. Nor was my childhood filled with conflict around the home. Sure, there were moments… brief times when things had to get real because either John or I had misbehaved or pushed a boundary a bit too far. Such times were the exception though.

Like that cookie jar, life was abundant. Life was good. Life made practicing honesty easy.

Because I am an addict, whenever I use drugs in any form, the things represented by that cookie jar disappear. Abundance is overshadowed by the never ending compulsion to use more. Goodness is replaced with desperation that will lead me to say or do just about anything to keep my using a secret. Honesty? What’s that?

Recovery has begun the process of restoring to my life, the things that cookie jar represented. It is often said that Honesty, Open-Mindedness, and Willingness are three of the principles that are indispensable in the life of a recovering addict. As such, they form a foundation for recovery. So, being honest with myself and others, is no longer an option like it was in active addiction. If I want life’s cookie jar to remain full, I must be willing to practice honesty.

Thankfully, I am surrounded by people today who encourage such honesty. Abundance, goodness, and honesty are common in my life once again. Like asking Mom about cookies, I have discovered that when I ask God to make His will for my life my own, I can always open the lid to life’s cookie jar, and more of God’s influence over my life is available.

Have a remarkable day!

God-Centeredness and My Experience with Watches

“Oh no, the battery is dead.” I would look down at my wrist, and see that the watch I was wearing had stopped. That’s when I would experience an “Oh no” moment.

I’m rough on wristwatches. I wear mine in the pool, while cycling, or even at work, when my arms are buried deep in metalworking fluids. I have to clean it with an old toothbrush and soap pretty regularly. So, I have always looked for watches that are “Waterproof.”

There is only one problem with such watches. It has been my experience that no matter how experienced the jeweler, once they have to open that watch to replace its battery, that waterproof nature disappears. One watch was so bad that the crystal would fog over anytime we had a humid day. From that point forward, the death of yet another watch was inevitable.

So, the last time I had a watch that died, I decided to replace it with one that is really old school. It is an “Automatic” watch. That is, it is self-winding. Simply by wearing it, the mechanism inside winds the watch, and keeps it running. No batteries, and thus, no broken seals. It even came with a special wrench I can use to adjust its speed, so that I can dial it in to tell time more accurately.

It cost a little more than the battery-operated ones I had owned before it; but it is still running after over five years. That is a lot of time spent in the pool, or submerged in the sump of a CNC machine at work. Although it definitely shows some wear and tear, it is still very much waterproof.

The only times it has stopped running have been when I have forgotten to wear it for a day or two. I’m so accustomed to taking it with me that I’ve only had that happen a couple of times.

I hope God will forgive me for the comparison; but there are ways in which living a God-centered life can be like wearing an automatic watch.

For years, my relationship with God was focused on what he could do for me. I was looking for God’s blessings over my plans. I wanted God to heal me, prosper me, inspire me. On the outside, it might have appeared that I had a strong relationship with Him; but the reality was that having me at the center of the relationship was like having a watch that runs on a battery. Eventually, when I did not get what I wanted from God, the relationship would die a little.

Through the years, I would try adding new batteries to the relationship; but instead of growing stronger, these new batteries only delayed the inevitable. The relationship would become fogged over at the slightest disappointment. Eventually, the inevitable happened. I traded in a self-centered relationship with God for a self-centered relationship with drugs.

It was like replacing one battery operated watch with another one. It worked really well for a time; but only for a very brief time. It was incredible how quickly the batteries ran out on my new god, the drugs. The only problem was that when I tried to remove that watch, the clasp on the watchband would not release. In fact, it seemed that the harder I tried, the more it resisted.

My fate was seemingly sealed. Once I had decided to make the drugs my god, the disease of addiction would not allow me to change. So, eventually I stopped trying. I gave in to the drugs, and to the life that came with them. It was so bad that at one point I wanted to die; but addiction refused to allow death the opportunity to free me.

Even after being exposed to recovery through the Twelve Steps, I doubted that the old, corroded watch clasp of my drug addiction would ever let me go. I would hear people talk about how God’s power had freed them from active addiction; but I doubted He would want anything to do with me. After all, just look at how I abused and mistreated our previous relationship.

Thankfully, I was wrong. God very much wanted to have a relationship once again. However, the nature of that relationship had to be different. It could no longer be a self-centered relationship. It could no longer depend on me getting what I wanted from God. Instead, this new relationship would be God-centered.

Like my automatic watch, a relationship with God that is focused on His will for my life is self-sustaining. When something in that relationship seems amiss, prayer and meditation become the wrench that bring it back into alignment. Or, I should say, the wrench that brings me back into alignment.

While I have come to love this God-centered way of life, it is vital that I remember that God is not like the drugs. He does not force Himself, refusing to let me go like the drugs did. The clasp on this relationship would release anytime I might choose to. I can go back to serving the god of my addiction anytime I want. However, today, I choose not to walk away from God. Today, I choose a relationship with Him that never runs dry; because it runs on His will, not my own.

Have a remarkable day!

Vigilance and Whistling on a Construction Site

Jim was the foreman on the construction site where I worked during the summer after my graduation from high school. There were about a dozen of us on the carpentry crew building apartment buildings that summer. Jim’s main responsibility was to wander the job site, and lend a hand as needed. Of course, sometimes he had to light a fire under the rest of us, encouraging us to keep working at a reasonable pace.

As he walked from area to area within the partially completed buildings, Jim would whistle. His whistling always gave him a peaceful demeanor, as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

One day, he was working on one of the more challenging projects, and asked me to lend him a hand. Over the course of that day, we chatted about more than just carpentry, or the task at hand. We talked about everything from family to hobbies. I was particularly interested in his main hobby – racing go-carts. It was hard to imagine his 6’3″ frame fitting inside a little go-cart’s frame.

After a while, I asked him about his whistling. I was curious to find out if he had always whistled while he worked. (Shoot, now that Disney song will be stuck in my brain for the rest of the day!) He chuckled and told me that he only whistled while at work; and then, only as he was wandering the job site. His whistle, as he moved from place to place, was a warning. He did not want to catch workers goofing off, or sitting idly while on the clock. So, he whistled to let us know he was headed our way.

Jim put a whole new spin on the concept of vigilance. Yes, he was keeping a watchful eye. Yes, he was fulfilling his responsibilities as foreman. No, he didn’t allow those responsibilities to drive a wedge between him and his team.

Vigilance, as spiritual principles go, can have an air of negativity to it. It is not that recovery has a bunch of rules or regulations. There is no foreman watching over my activities to be sure I avoid the people, places, and things associated with active addiction. Instead, I am simply responsible for treating my recovery with vigilance. I am responsible for remaining aware of my surroundings and my attitudes. Responsible for maintaining the condition of my spirit, and keeping track of my serenity.

However, those things can all seem a bit overwhelming at times. I may want to slack off, or push the limits of my recovery, but vigilance reminds me not to. Like the sound of Jim’s whistling, vigilance helps me to stay the course. It keeps me on track, and helps me to practice spiritual principles in all of my affairs.

Have a remarkable day!

Commitment and Defining Success

Yesterday, I had a phone conversation with a prospective customer who is hoping to win a multi-year, multi-million dollar contract. He had asked a business associate of mine if I would be willing to offer him some consultation specific to my area of expertise, so of course I had agreed to phone him.

Over and over again, he thanked me for my willingness to invest some time with him. He appreciated my insights, and told me that they would help him make plans for moving forward. “I’m just trying to cover all my bases, so that if I win this contract, I know what I am getting myself into.”

My mind immediately went back to another customer of mine who had shared that he had underbid a large aerospace job. He pointed to a pallet of finished airplane parts and told me how many thousands of dollars of loss that pallet represented. Fortunately, they had won the contract again once the first had expired, and would be given the opportunity to make back some of their losses.

Looking at these two people, it might be easy to assume that my new friend from yesterday would obviously be the better, more successful businessperson. Yet, he runs his business out of a pole barn in his backyard, while the other fellow employs dozens of folks. As the world measures success, the second customer, the one who lost thousands of dollars on a single pallet-full of parts, is significantly more successful.

From my perspective, both of these fellows are successful; because both of them are willing to make a commitment, and then stand behind that commitment. Knowing the second businessperson and his team, I have no doubt that they did just as much due diligence on that money-losing contract as the first is. It is not that he is guilty of poor planning. Nor is this a lesson telling me to avoid commitments. Instead, the tale of these two customers is that sometimes even the best of us make mistakes when making commitments.

The difference between success and failure are not found in making only profitable commitments. The difference is in having the willingness to commit at all.

As a recovering drug addict, the most important, life-changing commitment I have ever made was to work a program of recovery. That commitment to working steps with my sponsor, and seeking God’s will for my life, opened the door to the life I have today. It also opened the door to my ability to make and keep other commitments.

Have a remarkable day!