When I walked out of work the other day I walked into what was one of the loveliest early afternoons I think I've ever seen. Blue skies with a couple of fluffy clouds, the temperature was absolutely perfect, and the landscape was lush and green from the recent rains we'd had here.

"This is a perfect day", I declared to myself.

I'd already been in a good mood (I'm pretty much always in a good mood these days) but this lifted me up to a whole different level. Hours later, still riding high on the feeling I told a couple of friends my thought on the day.

"Get laid this morning, did you?" Asked one.

"It's not that", I said, and described how I had seen it.

He looked around. "Yep, it's a nice day." Then they started talking about football or cars or something.

Understandable really, because a week or so earlier I had declared my drive to work in the fog and then home in the rain as "wonderful". That too was a perfect day. There was also the other day when it was hot and windy, where the air from the center of the country has blown across miles of desert, and arrives baked, lightly warming your lungs when you breathe. That too was a perfect day.

In fact, there have been lots of them in the last 18 months. Not all, of course, because sometimes I forget to keep my head where my hands are and live in the moment, but more than enough to help me appreciate just how nice life can be.

Because it is. I am here in this 24 hours, sober, smiling and free. I don't have that horrible civil war raging inside me all day. I don't regret my actions of the last 24 hours or fear what will come of the next 24. I know in my heart that I am a part of something bigger and very worthwhile - both this program and in life itself. And I know deep in my soul that the universe is unfolding exactly as it should and everything is going to be alright.

And people keep telling me if I come back it'll keep getting better.

I believe them.

Part of my drive to work.