Because of our thoroughness, we build character by calling upon our Higher Power for the courage to change the things we can.
I was replaying a tense conversation in my head, focusing on all the ways my partner had been unreasonable. My chest felt tight with resentment, and I was building a solid case for why I was entirely in the right. Suddenly, a quiet voice inside me paused the tape: what about my part? It was uncomfortable, almost painful, to consider.
For years, I believed cleaning up my side of the street meant making sure every detail was perfect, or worse, proving I had no fault at all. But recovery has changed my definition of thoroughness. It's not about being flawless; it's about courageously owning the small piece I contributed to the dynamic. It means admitting, "I was wrong," even when it feels like I only messed up 10%, because that 10% is where my freedom lies.
This shift isn't natural for me. My immediate response is still to defend. That's why I need help from my Higher Power to face that vulnerable admission, to let go of self-righteousness. When I can do that, the tension in my chest eases, and I experience a profound inner peace. I no longer waste energy managing a false image; I can stand in integrity, knowing I've been thorough with myself.
Practice
When I feel the urge to justify my past behavior today, I can stop mid-sentence. I can silently ask God for the courage to just own my part without adding a 'but...' clause. Then I can simply say, 'I was wrong about that,' and stop talking.
Today’s Reminder
Thoroughness is not about being perfect; it is about being entirely honest about where I am not.
