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March 1975

I like to think that a basic key to good, solid sobriety is acceptance of two facts—not only that I am an alcoholic, but also that I am me and have certain limitations and abilities with which to work.

The Serenity Prayer begins by requesting our God, as we understand him, to give us the serenity to accept that which we cannot change. In the beginning, I applied this only to my alcoholism, forgetting other areas. But many sober experiences have taught me to try to accept other parts of myself and not try to be that which I cannot be.

I remember, in my first year in the Fellowship, agreeing with everybody so they would like me. If John was a Republican, I’d support his views. With Ed, a Democrat, I’d be a Democrat. My sponsor came quickly to my rescue on this matter by reminding me that it was important to be myself instead of falsifying my opinions for the sake of agreement. He suggested that I try a simple prayer for a while. It said, “Dear God, let me be me.’’

My life changed as I began to try to follow the AA way of life. I found, through the Steps, that my horizons slowly expanded. I could leave the security of my home group and travel, going to AA meetings in other areas. Very slowly, I grew up. I found I could remarry and raise children. I also grew in the business world by leaving my first job sober, as a cab driver, and eventually reaching a position of responsibility whereby I was in charge of maintenance of an international airport.

By staying close to AA and the Twelve Steps, I discovered a new me. This took me time, a lot of time. The process was sometimes painful, but always rewarding.

Then I experienced an event that has taxed my ability to accept almost to the limit. At the ripe old age of thirty-eight, and with seven years of continuous sobriety under my belt, I had a massive coronary. The heart attack nearly took my life, and the subsequent recovery period was long. Limitations were again placed on me. For a while, doctor’s orders confined me to one AA meeting a week. I still cannot risk speaking at an open meeting or getting too active in Twelfth Step work. Those things, which I had so depended upon for my sobriety, were taken from me.

Many of my AA friends have had similar experiences that necessitated changes in their AA activities, and their counseling has been a great comfort. Also, this experience gave me a chance to practice the principles I had heard about in Step discussion meetings throughout my AA life. I was unable to run to an AA meeting every night as I once had, to recharge my batteries.

I found it more difficult to accept my new limitations at work. No longer was I placed in a position of responsibility. I was given an office job, and my physical and mental activities were cut down drastically.

In short, I had to renew my feelings about accepting the things I could not change. I had overworked the Serenity Prayer in my early days of AA, and now I had to overwork it again. I had to go back and redo or retake the Steps to fit them into my new set of circumstances. I realized that I’d done this before, as have many others I know. We change as time goes by, and the full meaning of the Steps, the Traditions, and all that is AA must change within us to keep us on our happy road to recovery.

First, I had to quit resenting the changes in my life and accept them for what they were. Amazingly, as I did this, many restrictions were lifted. Today I live a full life, with an equal balance of AA, work, and recreation. I enjoy my family, my AA friends, and my business associates a whole lot more than I ever did before the heart attack.

Finally, I appreciate and need AA much more today than I did on that October day in 1964, when I had nothing to lose and everything to gain by joining the Fellowship. I still have everything to gain by following in the footsteps of my successful AA friends. But now I also would have an awful lot to lose by leaving the Fellowship. Today I can compare the sober life with my drunken existence. I like what I’ve got, and I believe I’m willing to go to any lengths to keep it.

W.H., West Palm Beach, Fla.