As most of you will know from my other writing, the Step 11 reading that’s part of the Sunrise Zoom meeting has become a hugely important part of my recovery. I honestly believe that, for me, without the suggestions in the Into Action chapter of the Alcoholics Anonymous Big Book, my journey up the steps—and along this path to sobriety—would have started on a very different foot.
One line I hear or read every morning is: “Thy will (not mine) be done.” It’s on page 85, in that very same chapter. It’s a simple sentence, but a powerful reminder that I am not in charge—and that’s exactly how it should be.
These days, I try my best to go with the flow of life. Of course, I still take time each morning to review my day and have a rough plan of action—but nothing is set in stone. Things don’t have to go exactly how I want them to. That’s a huge shift in mindset for me.
Yesterday was a perfect example of this. I had a full-on workday planned: the office was quiet due to school holidays, and I’d lined up a solid day of admin, headphones in, head down, no distractions. But life had other ideas.
Barely an hour in, that plan went completely out of the window. Several of the management team needed support, and while it would’ve been easy to think I’ve got too much on, I knew their needs were greater than mine—so I went with it. After helping them out, I did manage to get through some of my own tasks, and at lunchtime, I stuck to my plan to meditate in the church garden. It went pretty smoothly, apart from an older gentleman wandering over for a chat—but even that turned out to be a pleasant moment, not an interruption.
That evening I was supposed to head out with some of my sober brothers—yeah, brothers. These are men I now call true friends, but more than that, I love them like family. I wouldn’t have them in my life if it wasn’t for AA and my new way of living. We’d planned to take part in a pub quiz—yes, a pub quiz. Now I know AA guidance says we should avoid “wet places” unless there’s a solid reason to be there, but I like to think that our group, with our strong sobriety and support for one another, had good reason. And, being the only sober team would definitely give us an edge!
But once again, my Higher Power had different plans. Late in the afternoon, one of my children rang in a panic and needed help. Helping them meant missing the quiz, and changing my plans yet again. But I didn’t hesitate—their need was more important. I just accepted the path I was given and followed it.
Looking back on the day, I couldn’t help but think how completely different it would’ve played out before my recovery journey began. Back then, I’d have started drinking almost as soon as I woke up, setting the tone for a chaotic and negative day. If I’d had plans at all—beyond enduring work and getting drunk—I would’ve shut down the moment anything changed. I’d have refused to help the managers, sat at my desk doing the bare minimum. I certainly wouldn’t have been meditating in a church garden—I’d have been in my car, hidden in some layby, drinking my lunch. And if someone came over for a chat, I’d either have driven off or pretended to be asleep.
If I’d got a call from my child asking for help—especially if it clashed with something I wanted to do, like a pub quiz—I’d likely have lied, made up some excuse not to go, just to keep drinking. That was my world: plans based around alcohol, and everything else came second.
But the day wasn’t like that. I reflected on what needed to be done, but I didn’t cling to it. I lived each moment as it came, did what was right in that moment, and reminded myself that I’m not in control of the world around me. The only thing I have any real control over is myself—my mind, my actions, and how I respond to change… because change will always come.
And honestly—I still can’t quite believe how much has changed in the last 14 months. All it took was for me to admit I was powerless over alcohol, surrender to a power greater than myself, and hand over control of my life to that power. Thy will, not mine, be done. Those words have guided me through so much, and I thank my Higher Power every day that I get to live this new way. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.
No Control, Just Flow
The path unfolds,
not etched in stone,
but whispered on the breath of dawn.
Step Eleven's echo,
a sunrise meeting's gentle hum,
"Thy will, not mine" a quiet surrender.
Not the clamour of my wanting,
the tight fist of my design,
but the yielding to a current unseen.
Yesterday's rigid lines,
admin's ordered rows, headphones a shield,
shattered by a greater need.
Management's call,
a disruption once resented,
now a flow to navigate.
The church garden's peace,
meditation's still point,
interrupted, yet graced by connection.
Sober brothers, a chosen kinship,
a pub quiz, a cautious step,
intention held, yet loosely.
A child's voice, a tremor of urgency,
the planned joy relinquished,
for a deeper resonance.
Before, the daybreak tasted of poison,
plans dissolving in a haze,
self barricaded, connection denied.
The child's plea, a burden to avoid,
the drink's insistent pull,
all else a flimsy pretence.
Now, the moment breathes,
unburdened by expectation,
action arising from the heart's compass.
Control, a phantom whim,
surrendered to the vastness,
only the inner landscape to tend.
Change, the constant companion,
no longer a foe to be wrestled,
but a ripple to be embraced.
Fourteen moons turned,
a simple admission, a letting go,
power found in powerlessness.
"Thy will, not mine" a guiding star,
through tangled paths and open fields,
a life reborn, worth every breath.
