Daily Reprieve

From Courage to Change of Aug 29:

Since childhood I have been nagged by those moments when I said or did something that brought pain to another person. These are ugly memories that I never believed would go away. With Step Eight, however, I discover a means to release myself from unrelenting guilt.

This Step says to make a list of all people I have harmed and to become willing to make amends to them all. Finally, I can put down in words all the memories and all the pain. When I see them written in front of me, they seem almost manageable, and I feel hopeful about freeing myself from their weight as I become willing to make amends. I need not take any further action at this point. All I am concerned with now is the harm I have caused others, the guilt I have brought on myself, and the desire to do what I can to clear it all away.

Today’s Reminder

Guilt is a burden that keeps me from giving myself fully and freely to the present. I can begin to rid my mind of guilt by quietly admitting where and when I have done wrong to people, including myself.

“Al-Anon has shown me another way of living, and I like it. Life can either be a burden and a chore or a challenge and a joy. One day at a time I can meet the challenges of life head-on instead of head-down.” ~ As We Understood

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What As We Understood Is:

Full Title: As We Understood: More Talks on Al-Anon Principles

• Published by: Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters, Inc.
• First published: 1985
• Format: A collection of essays and reflections written by Al-Anon members

This book explores spirituality from a wide range of personal experiences—without prescribing a single religious belief or dogma.

There are memories that trail us like smoke—thin, acrid, persistent. For me, it began in childhood: the sharp moments when my words cut, or my silence wounded, or I simply didn’t know better—but the damage still landed. Those memories carved themselves into my mind as shame-stained markers. I thought they were permanent. I thought they defined me.

And then came Step Eight.

It didn’t ask me to fix it all overnight.
It didn’t demand atonement before I was ready.
It simply asked me to look honestly and become willing.

To write the names.
To acknowledge the harm.
To open the door—however slightly—to the possibility of amends.

There is something powerful about naming. Something holy about writing it down. It takes the swirling shame out of abstraction and lays it flat on the page where it can be seen—not as a life sentence, but as a spiritual inventory. A map of where I’ve been untrue to myself and to others. A beginning.

I don’t have to make the amends yet. Step Eight reminds me: willingness is the work for now.
This is a step of preparation, of spiritual stretching.
It’s less about action and more about alignment.

And in that space, I find relief. I find dignity. I find hope.

Because guilt—unspoken, unexamined—has a way of locking us out of the present moment. It dims the light of connection. It whispers that we’re imposters in our own recovery. But when I begin to name the harm, the fog lifts. I can feel my heart begin to loosen its grip on the past. I can turn, gently, toward the living now.

Sometimes the first person I need to put on that list is me.

Because I have harmed myself too—with harsh words, impossible standards, addictive spirals, and the refusal to believe I was worth saving. I must be willing to make amends inward as well—to forgive the scared version of me who only knew how to survive.

The Steps have shown me that life isn’t just endurance. It’s discovery.
That the past isn’t just a burden. It’s compost for a freer soul.
And that isolated self-castigation isn’t living—it’s hiding.

Today, I lift my head.
Not because I’m proud of everything I’ve done—but because I’m becoming someone I’m no longer ashamed to be.

One name at a time.
One truth at a time.
One willingness at a time.

And that, I’ve learned, is more than enough to begin.