If the world were a sweet-shop, as I run around it, tempted by everything, the voice says no. Instead, there is a table in the middle of the sweet-shop, and on the table is a bowl, and in the bowl is my food, and the food is both good and precisely what and everything I need.
The sweets are not sweets. They're rat poison.
"On awakening let us think about the twenty-four hours ahead. We consider our plans for the day." (Page 86, Alcoholics Anonymous)
We're not enjoined to consider anything else. Anything beyond the twenty-hours: none of my business (except in as far as I must take an action today that pertains to the timeframe outside the twenty-four hours ahead). Anything beyond my plans (= the actions I am to take, which represent the contents of the bowl, above).
This is not normal. But it is what works. It is also the only thing that works.