Perfect. What’s that? I know that I have been told that I was a “perfectionist”…or at least tried to be. When I was young, I would get a tennis racket, attempt to play a few times and realize that I was not going to be in the Wimbledom championship games and give it up. Taking French in high school, I would give up on trying to learn it, because I realized that there was no way I would ever be able to communicate to anyone in that language. I even tried to learn to play the guitar and after a few lessons gave it up, because it was going to take practice to play it well and I didn’t have time to waste doing that. Later I was to learn that perfectionism was just another word for being lazy. Believe me the list is long.
But what about this thing called perfection? Being perfect? In this life, I would think that to be boring. What if everything was perfect? If I was perfect? If everything was perfect there would be no challenge to face. Nothing. And that I fear would lead to the one thing I never want to see again; a drink. Just to stir things up. And, if I was perfect, who could identify with me? Who would want to talk to a perfect person?
Why bring all this up? I was thinking today about this program. Which I have worked imperfectly. And that’s it isn’t it? No matter how much I try or don’t, there’s just so much to do.
There’s always someone who needs help. There’s my needing to talk to others, because I need help. There’s all my character defects, which need my attention. There’s a need to get to meetings so that I can be reminded of what I need to hear, in order to stay sober. There’s my forgetfullness. It goes on and on. I’ll never, I think, ever be able to work this program perfectly.
And yet, that’s perfect.
Like my sponsor said, as long as I haven’t taken a drink today, I’ve had a good day, in spite of whatever problems I might think I have. Indeed, I’ve had a perfect day.
I’ve come to realize that what this program offers me are ideals. Goals toward which I may work, but may never achieve in this life. As Bill W. points out, there is only one step we have to work perfectly; the first. The rest we will apply to our lives imperfectly on a daily basis. But it’s that which keeps us sober. Again, that’s just perfect for an alcoholic like myself.