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This is why I had a huge ego:  I was always right.  I could predict exactly how everything would turn out, every single time.  And whether or not I actively participated in forging the outcome, I’d bend the results to fit my original thesis, keeping my streak of being 100% correct alive and well.  As if somebody was keeping track.

Step 3: made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God, as we understood Him.

One of the miracles of this program is that I now know everything isn’t written in stone by me.

But what occasionally terrifies:  the slow-motion, dry-drunk thinking that watches my alcoholic insanities run to their predicted outcomes without any interjection.  Instead, I want to rationalize and justify the self-made funk storm that’s rolling in. I mean, come on, how long am I supposed to ignore it?  The clouds are purple, for Pete’s sake.  And it’s exactly that instinct that’s even more cunning, baffling, and powerful than doing absolutely nothing:  the power of denial.  That’s actively and willingly gorging myself on wrong information and retellings of reality until it’s just warped enough to fit inside my tent of crazy.

That’s when the magnitude and scope of step three really comes through. When I’m in charge, I can foresee the impending thicket of weeds that I’ve been slowly planting the seeds to and, oddly enough, severely overwatering.

What I didn’t realize was the gift that comes along with letting go: the whole world becomes one big surprise again.  It’s wonderful not knowing everything.  It’s even more wonderful learning nobody expected me to.

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