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From Courage to Change of Oct 30:
When I was a newcomer to Al-Anon, I remember hearing people say that they were grateful to be involved with an alcoholic. Needless to say, I thought they were crazy! Wasn’t the alcoholic the cause of all their grief? I couldn’t believe that these people had anything to be grateful for. Yet they seemed to be happy despite their problems (which sounded exactly like my own).
Today I find that I am grateful to have found Al-Anon. I too needed to hit a kind of bottom, feel the pain, and reach out for help before I could find any lasting happiness. Because of Al-Anon, I have a relationship with a Higher Power that I never knew existed and friends who give me real support. I have learned that gratitude and forgiveness are necessary to my peace of mind. Now I can truly say that I am a grateful member of Al-Anon.
Today’s Reminder
Today I will practice gratitude. I will think of some of the things, big or small, for which I am grateful. Maybe I’ll even put this list in writing or share it with an Al-Anon friend. Sometimes a tiny action can be a great step toward seeing my life with increasing joy.
“When things look blackest, it is within my power to brighten them with the light of understanding and gratitude.” ~ One Day at a Time in Al-Anon
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When I first entered the rooms, the idea of being grateful for the alcoholic felt like a betrayal of my pain. Gratitude seemed like denial in disguise — a polite anesthetic for people too afraid to rage. I had not yet learned that recovery is not about excusing the disease; it’s about reclaiming my power to interpret it differently. What once looked like punishment has become invitation.
The old self demanded justice — someone to blame, something to fix. But in Al-Anon, I met people who were no longer fighting the storm. They had learned how to sail through it. Their laughter wasn’t naive; it was defiant faith, earned through tears.
Pain is a strange teacher: it isolates first, then initiates. I, too, had to reach a kind of bottom — not only the moment when life fell apart, but the deeper bottom where I finally saw that my control was the personally relevant addiction.
That was the crack where grace entered. Through that pain, I found a Higher Power who had been waiting, not to rescue me from the alcoholic, but to release me from myself.
Forgiveness followed like a slow sunrise. It didn’t erase what had happened; it simply illuminated it from another angle. Gratitude became possible — not because the situation improved, but because my perception did.
Gratitude is rebellion against despair. It’s not a mood; it’s a muscle. When I list the things I’m thankful for — clean dishes, a call from a friend, a quiet morning prayer — I’m retraining my mind to recognize abundance instead of absence.
And when I share that list aloud, the light multiplies. Gratitude doesn’t deny the darkness; it seeds the dawn within it.
When life feels heaviest, I can choose to become the candle instead of cursing the night.
A written list, a whispered thank-you, a phone call to a fellow traveler — these are not small gestures; they are revolutionary acts of perspective.
Daily Reprieve 
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