“Taking my will back” occurs so effortlessly with me and I do it without realising. Closed-mindedness engulfs me and I end up drowning in self-justifications, rationalisations and self-pity. Any shred of humility I once had dissolves in a puddle and I am left standing naked with only my arrogance for protection. My black and white thinking becomes circular and obsessive – I am right, you are wrong, and I get locked in my head. It feels like the water-tight doors on a sinking ship slamming shut, one after the other, until everything is dark and my twisted thinking is the only thing that breathes.
I defend my right to think like this by seeking corroboration from sympathy givers and claiming I am not a robot, merely human, therefore entitled to thoughts and feelings and emotions.
What remains the truth though is that I am an alcoholic and this type of thinking is dangerous. It must be smashed if I am to live happy, joyous and free. I cannot be of service to others if I sit in my isolated darkness.
And so I make a decision to think differently, surrender to another way, and take action to implement this. I read spiritual literature that revives me, reminds me of a different perspective and ignites my faith. I pray to be released from ‘self’ and the distortions of my ego, and for my thinking to be placed on healthier lines. I pray for opportunities to be of service,and for inspiration, direction and strength. I pray for my heart and mind to be open and to accept what is in front of me – to flow with the flow of events, not against the current. I try to trust, knowing that if my life has been steeped in synchronicity until now, it always will be.
“Turning my will over” doesn’t mean retreating like a turtle and relinquishing my responsibilities. It means choosing to make decisions out of love instead of out of fear, choosing to listen to that loving voice whispering inside of me, instead of my booming, vociferous ego.