Fall is nipping at my toes. And I don’t just mean the season following summer.

It’s an overused phrase, and perhaps all too simplistic, but the clock is ticking, at a faster pace, every hour it seems.  Does this matter?  Perhaps not to many of you, but I love life so much, every breath of it, and I hate seeing it slip so unstoppably fast through my fingers.

The joy I feel waking up every morning, looking over at my husband, Joe, as we sip coffee in our living room, is achingly powerful.  How blessed I feel, each and every day.  Our nearly 37 years together have flown by.  Of course we have had our struggles; our egos have put up a good fight on occasion, but no argument has been too big for us to find a way back to the peaceful path.  I believe I can count on this always being the case, far into the future we will so thankfully continue to share.

Perhaps you are wondering how I can be so sure this will continue.  My assurance comes from the commitment we each have made to the principles of the 12 steps and to A Course in Miracles.  We both want peaceful lives, with each other and with every one we pass along the path each day.  As long as that remains our primary focus, we will be able to slip from one moment into the next with quiet gratitude and unwavering commitment to our marriage, to our recovery, to our daily lives, moment by moment.

How differently I lived before finding recovery in 1974.  Each step I took felt arduous and fearful.  Living without fear because of the spiritual principles I have adopted have provided me such freedom and willingness to see the glass as over-flowing.  Sitting here this morning, writing this blog post, feels like a gift beyond measure.  Why me?  I am overwhelmed, often, by the gifts God has bestowed on me.  All I had to do was be willing to accept them.

How often do you stop to count your blessings?  If not daily, today is a great day to begin a new habit, a good habit, one that will enhance your joy immeasurably.  The idea that fall is nipping at our toes can be interpreted on many levels.  Not only as a measure of “real” time but symbolically as the indicator that years are sliding by, going unnoticed too often by too many of us.

Looking back over my life fills me with amazement.  I know I’ve said it before but it’s worth repeating: that day in May when I walked into my first AA meeting was truly an action that rearranged my life completely.  And yet as I say that, I concurrently believe that I had “prearranged” all the encounters I have had throughout my life, those during my drunk years as well as those since taking on the persona as Karen Casey, recovery author.  All of it, part and parcel, was carefully orchestrated.  I just don’t remember being the composer.

Isn’t that a fabulous awareness?  It’s true for you too, you know.