Taking Your Time

By David Weitz

I’ve often heard it said along my journey in sobriety that those who claim time means nothing are usually those who don’t have any. Time, it seems, becomes our first major accomplishment after losing so many years to its relentless passing. The great starter but terrible finisher begins life anew by achieving the seemingly impossible mission of staying sober from time up until bedtime. Then, they are reborn on a fresh calendar date, all of it beginning with a singular moment in time.

In recovery, time takes on countless forms—it comes in all shapes, colors, materials, and even adornments. Some of us carry our time on a necklace or a keychain, while others tattoo it to their skin. For some, it’s worn proudly on their sleeve, while others take advantage of those who haven’t yet discovered its meaning. Time is celebrated and revered, especially by those who fear losing it. Time transforms into a responsibility, a reputation, an education, and a meaning that far transcends the ticking of a clock on the wall. It becomes a teacher—one that leads by example, where those with more time show those with less time how to make the most of their time.

From day one, we are reminded that time takes time. Along the way, we learn that one bad decision can snatch time away as quickly as it’s gained. Time can heal all wounds, but it can also lead us to the grave. The recovery date we cling to this time may not be the last time. Through the lessons of others who stumble, we learn that time is fragile—realistically, it lasts only twenty-four hours at a time. Time in is time earned, and it’s earned by showing up again and again, one day at a time.