Archive for Addiction

Endigar 962

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on May 28, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Jul 21:

“The people I love won’t take care of themselves, so I have to do it. How will they survive unless I . . .?” This was my thinking when I came to Al-Anon, my excuse for interfering in everyone’s business. My needs seemed so unimportant compared to the constant crises all around me. Al-Anon told me that I had other options, one of which was to let go and let God.

When I think of letting go I remind myself that there is a natural order to life – a chain of events that a Higher Power has in mind. When I let go of a situation, I allow life to unfold according to that plan. I open my mind and let other ways of thinking or behaving enter in. When I let go of another person, I am affirming their right to live their own life, to make their own choices, and to grow as they experience the results of their actions. A Higher power exists for others, as well. My obsessive interference disrupts not only my connection with them but also my connection with my own spiritual self.

Today’s Reminder

I am my top priority. By keeping the focus on myself, I let go of other people’s problems and can better cope with my own. What can I do for myself today?

“I will remind myself . . . that I am powerless over anyone else, that I can live no life but my own. Changing myself for the better is the only way I can find peace and serenity” ~ The Dilemma of the Alcoholic Marriage

END OF QUOTE—————————————

This is the new reality I am being shown—one that I couldn’t earn by willpower, manipulation, or self-sacrifice. In my old patterns, I tried to outrun fear with control and earn love through depletion. I called it strength, but it was survival. It left me hollow, stuck in cycles that always circled back to powerlessness.

But when that scaffolding finally collapsed, I didn’t die. I opened. That moment of futility became an invitation. I started to see that my old instincts didn’t have to be the only voice in the room. I allowed in a whisper of something else. A new logic, a Higher Intelligence. Something quieter, but stronger.

Recovery isn’t about perfect behavior. It’s about finally recognizing what matters most: me. Not in a selfish or defensive way, but in the honest clarity that my life is worth protecting, nurturing, and living in alignment with truth. That I must lead with care for myself, or I have nothing real to offer anyone else.

As I release reactive living—bit by bit, sometimes painfully—I don’t become passive. I become available. I can respond from vision, not fear. From purpose, not panic. I come to trust that my life is not random, and neither is yours. A Higher Power is at work in every one of us, not just in me. And there is a rhythm, a natural order, to it all. I may not always see the pattern, but I no longer need to interrupt it. I can trust it, walk with it, even rest in it.

And so the work continues—not in striving, but in surrender. Not in proving, but in receiving. I let go, and I rise.

Endigar 961 ~ The Water We Try to Hold

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 27, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Jul 20:

In the past, joy was a rare visitor to many of us. Al-Anon recovery often leads us to find it more frequently. But instead of sitting back and enjoying these pleasant moments, we tend to cling desperately to happiness, trying to freeze time and hold change at bay, as if our joy will be snatched away forever the moment our guard is down. We can become too busy avoiding change to enjoy the gifts we fear to lose. By clutching at what we most want to keep, we lose it all the more rapidly.

Change is inevitable. We can depend on that. When we become willing to accept change, we make room for a loving God. By letting go of our efforts to influence the future, we become freer to experience the present, to feel all of our feelings while they are happening, and to more fully enjoy those precious moments of joy with which we are blessed.

Today’s Reminder

Today I will try to open myself to receive the abundance God holds out to me by experiencing what is and allowing God to diced what will be.

“The harder we try to catch hold of the moment, to seize a pleasant sensation . . . , the more elusive it becomes. . .. It is like trying to clutch water in one’s hands – the harder one grips, the faster it slips through one’s fingers.” ~ Alan Watts

END OF QUOTE—————————————

Litany Against Fear ~ Frank Herbert through his work, Dune

Joy has often felt like an intruder—unexpected, fragile, and fleeting. In those days, I didn’t know how to welcome it. But recovery has shown me that joy doesn’t have to be a stranger. It can live here, with me. It can visit often. But when it does, a part of me still panics. A part of me thinks: This won’t last. Something will go wrong. I have to hold on tight, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And that’s when the grip begins. I tense. I try to freeze time. I try to control the uncontrollable—because underneath that beautiful feeling is an old fear: that if I relax, if I trust, joy will slip away like it always has.

But here’s the truth recovery teaches me gently, again and again: clutching doesn’t preserve joy—it strangles it. Like water in my palms, the more I try to keep it, the more quickly it escapes. I become so focused on protecting the gift, I forget to experience it.

Change is inevitable. Loss and gain, fear and joy, are part of the same breath. But when I soften my grip—when I allow change, allow joy, allow pain—I also make space for grace. I make room for a loving God to surprise me. Not with a perfectly controlled life, but with a deeper peace, even in the chaos.

I choose not to chase joy or hoard it. I will receive it as it comes and let it go as it must. I will trust that more is always on the way. I will be present, not because it guarantees happiness, but because it honors the truth: that this moment is sacred, and it’s enough.

Recovery isn’t about building a fortress around my joy—it’s about learning to swim in it, even as the tide shifts.

And so, I open my hands. I let both fear and joy pass over and through me.

Endigar 960 ~ Step Three

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on May 26, 2025 by endigar

Step Three: “Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.”

3rd Step Principle: Our free will must be activated in trust for our Higher Power to channel Its creative life force through us. (Principles after the First Step are constructed from personal reflection and acceptance. Use my version or formulate your own.)

AA Extracted Value: Faith

ACA Extracted Values: Willingness & Accepting Help

Other Extracted Values: Spirituality

I used to think surrender meant weakness—like giving up, backing down, or losing control. But Step Three isn’t about giving up—it’s about handing over. Not in fear, but in faith. It’s the first time I truly tested the idea that something greater than me might actually want what’s best for me.

This step asked me to decide—not to fully understand, not to perfect a belief system, not even to feel spiritual, but simply to activate my free will in the direction of trust. That was enough to begin.

My will had been running the show for so long—driven by fear, ego, shame, and the desperate need to protect myself from pain. I thought I was strong because I was in charge. But what I really was… was exhausted. I wasn’t free. I was trapped in my own survival mechanisms. Step Three invited me to consider another possibility: that there might be a Life Force, a God, a Higher Power—not only bigger than me, but also kinder than I could imagine.

The principle behind this step hits home: Our free will must be activated in trust for our Higher Power to channel Its creative life force through us. That truth rearranged something inside me. My will isn’t the problem—it’s the isolation in which I tried to use it that caused the pain. Step Three offers a path where my will doesn’t have to be erased, only aligned. That means I still get to show up. I still get to choose. But now, my choices are made in partnership, not panic.

Faith is the AA value, and it’s the word that probably scared me the most when I got here. It sounded abstract, soft, maybe even naive. But in practice, faith became something simple: a willingness to keep walking even when I didn’t know the way.

In ACA, the values extracted are Willingness and Accepting Help—both of which were muscles I hadn’t used in years. Willingness meant being open to change, to guidance, to not knowing. Accepting help meant admitting I couldn’t heal alone—and trusting that help wouldn’t humiliate me. That felt revolutionary.

And Spirituality—the value that quietly hums beneath all of this—isn’t about religion or doctrine. It’s about connection. It’s about believing that my life has meaning beyond my mistakes. That there is something alive in me that’s worth protecting, nurturing, and guiding.

Step Three is a decision—a quiet but powerful one. A shift from fear to faith. From control to connection. From surviving alone to living in relationship with a Source greater than myself. I don’t always do it perfectly. But every time I choose trust over terror, even for a moment, something holy happens.

And I keep deciding. One day, one step, one surrender at a time.

Endigar 959

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on May 26, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Jul 19:

Al-Anon taught me the difference between walls and boundaries. Walls are solid and rigid; they keep others out, and they keep me trapped inside. Boundaries are flexible, changeable, removeable, so it’s up to me how open or closed I’ll be at any given time. They let me decide what behavior is acceptable, not only from others but from myself. Today I can say, “No,” with love instead of hostility, so it doesn’t put an end to my relationships.

I’ve learned about boundaries from Al-Anon’s own set of boundaries: the Twelve Traditions. Although their purpose is to protect Al-Anon, they actually encourage the growth of the fellowship. This is true of my personal boundaries as well. As I decide what is and isn’t acceptable for me, I learn to live protected without walls.

Today’s Reminder

Do my defenses keep me safe, or do they isolate me? Today I can love myself enough to look for healthier ways to protect myself, ways that don’t close everyone out.

“People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges.” ~ Joseph Fort Newton

END OF QUOTE—————————————

Note: Joseph Fort Newton (1880–1950) was an American Protestant minister and a prominent Masonic author. Newton authored a number of Masonic books, including his best-known works, The Builders, published in 1914, and The Men’s House, published in 1923. Does anyone else sense the irony of a Mason speaking on the problems with “building walls” while finding fulfillment in the closed and often secretive society of Freemasonry? Hmm…

Perhaps there is some validity to Oscar Wilde’s words;  “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”

How often have I desire to build a safe fortress and found I was locked into a self-made prison. There was a time when I thought strength meant building walls—thick ones. Emotional, relational, even spiritual walls. I thought they would keep me safe. But what they really did was isolate me, cut me off not just from others but from myself. I couldn’t breathe behind those bricks. Couldn’t feel. Couldn’t trust. And I mistook that numbness for safety.

Al-Anon helped me see another way. It didn’t tear the walls down for me—it showed me the door. The path to boundaries instead of barricades. I can see that boundaries are different. They’re alive. They breathe with me. They give me the dignity of choice: how open I want to be, how much to let in, how much to let go. Boundaries don’t shut down connection; they make it possible.

Learning to say “No” without rage or shame has changed my relationships—and not just with others. My relationship with myself has opened. I don’t have to punish others to protect myself, and I don’t have to punish myself to keep others close. That’s grace in action.

I agree that there is hard earned wisdom in the Twelve Traditions. They can model what healthy boundaries look like in community. They’re not there to limit love—they’re there to hold it. In the same way, when I honor my personal boundaries, I’m not making myself smaller. I’m making space for who I really am to grow. I’m not building a fortress. I’m building a home.

Today, I live protected—not walled in.

Endigar 958

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on May 25, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Jul 18:

We often come to Al-Anon with the philosophy that if something works, it will work even better and faster if we try harder. But Al-Anon involves a long-term process of growth and change. Our efforts to speed up this process are more likely to interfere with it, leaving us frustrated and depressed. In Al-Anon we learn that “Easy Does It.” The work often gets done when we stop pushing.

When I first came to Al-Anon I heard that, although we learn to entrust our lives and our future to a Power greater than ourselves, we must do our part as well. With my usual fervor I threw myself into doing “footwork.” I made at least ten Al-Anon calls every day and began a frantic effort to practice all Twelve Steps at once. No wonder i was soon overwhelmed – and exhausted.

Today I know that I can plant a seed in fertile soil, but I don’t help the plant to grow by tugging at the seed in hope that it will sprout. I have to let the process unfold at its own pace.

Today’s Reminder

I take my commitment to recovery seriously, but I can’t expect to recover overnight. When I approach my life with an “Easy Does It” attitude, I treat myself and the world around me gently and lovingly.

“‘When we try to absorb too much too quickly in Al-Anon, we may be discouraged . . .’ We would be wise to take it slowly, concentrating on one idea at a time.” ~ One Day at a Time in Al-Anon

END OF QUOTE—————————————

I have lived life driven by that old pulse in me—the one that says “Do more. Hurry up. Fix everything now.” It’s a voice I know well, and one I once mistook for strength. But in recovery, I’ve begun to hear it differently. That urgent push to over-function, to over-perform, to overcorrect—it’s not wisdom. It’s fear wearing the mask of responsibility.

Al-Anon has been teaching me something different. Something softer. Something wiser. That “Easy Does It” isn’t an excuse to check out; it’s an invitation to trust the process. I used to think I had to do all the growing, all at once. Now I know—growth is already built into the soil. My job is to show up, to tend, to water, to keep the weeds of shame and self-punishment from choking out the sprout. But not to tug. Never to tug.

When I came in, I thought the Steps were a ladder I had to sprint up. But recovery isn’t a race, and the Steps aren’t a checklist. They’re more like breath. Each one takes time. Each one returns me to the moment I’m in.

I don’t need to panic my way toward healing. I can listen to the quiet guidance within. I can pick up one idea and let it shape me. I can walk slowly. Gently. Let God do the growing. Let grace do its quiet work.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s where the real miracle happens.

Endigar 957

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on May 24, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Jul 17:

Two of those closest to me were newly-recovering alcoholics. During the drinking years, I had become so enmeshed with them and their self-destructive behavior that I lost sight of the idea that I could be happy even if they were depressed; I could live a serene life even if they went back to drinking. The turning point in my Al-Anon recovery came when someone said to me, “You’ll have to learn to make it whether the alcoholics do nor not.”

From that day on I tried to keep in mind that I had my own life and my own destiny. Once I began to separate my welfare from that of the alcoholics, I found it easier to detach from the decisions they made about how and where, and when and with whom to conduct their lives. Because my fate – my very life – was no longer tied directly to theirs, I was able to accept them for who they were and to listen to their ideas and concerns without trying to exercise control. Thanks to Al-Anon, I can concentrate my energy where I do have some control – over my own life.

Today’s Reminder

My time is too precious to waste living in the future or worrying about something over which I have no power. I am building a wonderful life for myself today.

As I continue to practice putting the focus on myself, it is a relief to see I can let go of others’ problems instead of trying to solve them.

END OF QUOTE—————————————

I know what it means to be entangled—not just involved, but enmeshed—in the chaos of someone else’s self-destruction. It starts with love, with care, with a desperate hope that if I can just hold on tighter, steer harder, I can keep the whole ship from sinking. But the truth I’ve learned in recovery is that clinging to a sinking ship doesn’t save either of us—it just pulls me under too.

“You’ll have to learn to make it whether the alcoholics do or not”—hits like a clean breath of air after being submerged for too long. That’s the invitation and the boundary all in one. My recovery is not conditional. My peace doesn’t hinge on anyone else’s progress. And that’s a terrifying, liberating thing to grasp. It means I get to stop playing God. I get to step out of the illusion of control and into the truth of my own path.

I’ve found that detachment isn’t abandonment. It’s an act of fierce love—both for them and for me. It means I can still care, deeply, but I no longer have to carry. I can still listen, still witness, still hold space—but I don’t have to fix. That’s a radical shift. One that frees up all this precious energy I used to pour into managing others, and lets me redirect it toward rebuilding my own life.

And the miracle is this: in letting go of their outcomes, I’ve finally begun to uncover my own. I’m not just surviving someone else’s story anymore—I’m writing my own. And every day I practice this, I see a little more clearly: serenity is not something I have to wait for. It’s something I choose, moment by moment, as I let go, turn inward, and do the next right thing.

This is what recovery gives me: the permission and the power to live my own beautiful, imperfect, sacred life.

Endigar 956

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on May 23, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Jul 16:

One of the wonderful, but unexpected, benefits of working the Al-Anon program is learning how to relax. Until now, most of my life sped by in a frenzy of activity. School, work, projects, obligations, all helped me focus outward. That way I didn’t have to rest long enough to feel how frightful my home life was.

There is nothing wrong with working hard and producing results, but I was abusing these activities. They were socially acceptable ways to deny my feelings. Both family and society supported my hiding behind the until, beaten down and exhausted, I reached the doors of Al-Anon. By that time I couldn’t have relaxed if I had wanted to – I didn’t know how it was done.

In Al-Anon it was suggested that I would not treat anyone as harshly as I treated myself. I would never ask someone I loved to go without rest, never letting up, and never having any fun. But that was exactly what I asked of myself. My Sponsor helped me to learn what gave me pleasure and how to take it easy. Now, relaxation is part of my daily routine.

Today’s Reminder

Hard work can be terrific, and my activities can be highly rewarding. But I am striving for some balance. Today I will look at how I spend my time, and set some of that time aside to relax.

“The time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.” ~ Bertrand Russell

END OF QUOTE—————————————

I feel the truth of the workaholic in Al-Anon radiating in a parallel corridor of my own experience. Though I didn’t charge through life with frantic busyness, I know what it means to run—from pain, from fear, from the echo of a home that never felt safe. For me, the flight path wasn’t external; it was inward. My escape wasn’t tasks or schedules—it was daydreams, isolation, inner worlds spun so intricately that they became sanctuaries… and cages.

They say in Al-Anon that the tools of survival often become the tools of self-harm. I can see that now. Just as the non-stop laborer used overwork to numb their feelings, I used imagination and withdrawal. What felt like relief in the moment became another form of bondage. There was no room to feel—only to avoid.

I also didn’t know how to relax. Not really. Because true relaxation means safety, and safety wasn’t something I ever learned to trust. In a way, “taking it easy” felt like giving up control—and control was the only rope I thought I had.

Al-Anon didn’t just hand me a new way to live—it gently questioned the old way, the only way I thought was available. Slowly, with the help of a Sponsor and the shared courage of others, I began to see that rest was not laziness, that pleasure was not selfish, and that tenderness, even toward myself, was not weakness.

Today, my version of relaxation may look a little different. Maybe it’s a quiet cup of tea, a favorite book, a walk where I let myself feel the wind. Maybe it’s just breathing without needing to be somewhere else—mentally, emotionally, spiritually. Maybe it’s allowing the moment to hold me instead of always needing to hold it together.

Recovery gave me this: permission to be a human being instead of a human doing—or in my case, a human hiding. That’s a gift I never saw coming.

Endigar 955 ~ Step Two

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on May 22, 2025 by endigar

Step Two: “Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”

2nd Step Principle: My need for the ability to tell the true from the false with a whole and sane mind is the beginning of my connection with an untapped Power greater than myself. (Principles after the First Step are constructed from personal reflection and acceptance. Use my version or formulate your own.)

AA Extracted Value: Hope

ACA Extracted Values: Open-mindedness & Clarity

Other Extracted Values: Awareness

There was a time when the word sanity felt like a distant, almost mythical concept—something reserved for others who didn’t carry the chaos I carried inside. But Step Two invites me to gently question the assumptions I’ve lived under. It doesn’t demand immediate belief. It doesn’t threaten or corner. It offers a possibility. That’s all—just maybe. Maybe I don’t have to stay lost. Maybe there is a way out. Maybe I don’t have to figure it all out on my own anymore.

That possibility is where hope begins.

The principle that struck me most is this: the ability to tell the true from the false. That sounds simple, but in the fog of dysfunction—especially as an adult child—it’s not. In fact, it might be the most difficult and most essential gift I can receive. In my old patterns, I confused love with control, guilt with responsibility, chaos with aliveness, and emotional numbness with safety. That distortion of truth was the insanity I was operating under.

So when I consider a Power greater than myself, I think of clarity. Not lightning bolts or grand visions, but the quiet power that lets me see the next right thing clearly. That lets me pause, breathe, and ask, “Is this true?” That helps me discern the real from the reactive. That kind of clarity is divinely sane.

Hope isn’t fantasy. Hope doesn’t float. It leans in. Like the metaphor of archery, hope isn’t just pointing in the right direction. It’s breath control. It’s stillness. It’s trust in the strength of your own arm guided by something beyond it. There is discipline in it. There is surrender, yes—but it’s not passive. It’s a relational act. I do my part by aiming well. My Higher Power does the rest by allowing grace to guide the arrow.

I’ve spent years aiming blindly, without realizing my sights were misaligned. I’ve hoped for things that weren’t mine to carry. I’ve hoped without action. That’s not hope. That’s despair dressed in a costume. True hope is choosing to keep aiming, keep breathing, and trust that if I keep showing up with willingness, I will hit something real, something healing. Maybe not today. But the arc is shifting. The mind is clearing. And I’m learning to tell the true from the false.

That, to me, is the first flicker of sanity.

And that flicker is enough for today.

Endigar 954

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on May 22, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Jul 15:

Each of us puts the Al-Anon program into practice in our lives as best we can, moving at the pace that is right for us. That is why I avoid speaking harshly, using phrases such as “get off the pity-pot” or “quit feeling sorry for yourself.” Perhaps someone needs more time to work through a painful situation than I do. Their story may sound repetitious to me, but who am I to judge?

When I’m struggling with my difficulties, I am so grateful that no one in Al-Anon stands over me with a stopwatch, telling me that I am taking too long when I learn my lessons slowly. A nonjudgmental, listening ear can be a great blessing, and I’m leaning to offer it more freely.

Today’s Reminder

Today I will try to extend to my fellow members the respect, patience, and courtesy that I want for myself.

“Great Spirit, help me never to judge another until I have walked in his moccasins.” ~ Sioux Indian prayer

END OF QUOTE—————————————

There’s a subtle kind of arrogance that creeps in when I forget how long my own healing has taken—and how nonlinear it still is. I can look back and see the looping spirals, the relapses not just in behavior but in thought patterns, the days when I’ve needed to tell the same story again just to hear myself say it. And in those moments, what helped wasn’t advice. It wasn’t someone telling me to snap out of it or get perspective. It was someone simply being there. Listening. Letting me be messy, repetitive, scared.

Compassion isn’t measured by how quickly I help someone “get better.” It’s measured by how willing I am to walk beside them without needing to fix, rush, or judge. Everyone’s pain has its own timeline. If I rush someone else, I’m usually avoiding something in myself.

I also hear the call in this text to give myself that same patience. No one is standing over me with a stopwatch, though sometimes my inner critic plays that role. I don’t heal on command. I don’t always learn the first—or fifth—time. But when I’m met with grace, something shifts. It opens space for real growth.

I want to practice being the kind of person I would’ve needed on my darkest day: quiet, steady, and accepting. Letting people take the time they need. Letting myself do the same.

Endigar 953

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on May 21, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Jul 14:

I didn’t know how great a burden my guilt was until I made amends and gained release from it. I never wanted to face the harm I’d done in the past. Consequently without knowing it, I carried guilt with me most of the time. Making amends has helped me to put the past behind me and move on with a clear conscience. My self-esteem has grown ever since, and I feel much better about myself.

But I had a problem. The person I felt I owed the most amends to is no longer living. Deep in my heart I knew she had understood and forgiven me, but I could not forgive myself for the harm I had done. How could I make amends?

After much prayer and thought, I realized that I couldn’t change the past. All I could do was to change my present behavior. Now, when I feel tempted to shirk a responsibility, I can remember my friend and consider my choice. Each time I talk to a newcomer, chair a meeting, or share my story, I am making amends to my friend.

Today’s Reminder

I can’t make past wrongs disappear, but I can take actions that will help me to let them go. When I make amends, I do what I can to correct the situation. Then I can put the past in tis rightful place and leave it there.

“Let me remember that the reason for making amends is to free my own mind of uneasiness.” ~ The Dilemma of the Alcoholic Marriage.

END OF QUOTE—————————————

My guilt meter’s broken. That’s the truth. Somewhere along the way, it got rewired by survival, by dysfunction, by patterns I didn’t ask for but learned to live with. Now it spikes when I try to set a healthy boundary, and stays silent when I hurt someone I care about. It’s not that I don’t want to do right—it’s that I don’t always know what right looks like.

I’ve been conditioned to feel guilty for things that shouldn’t even raise a flag—saying no, needing space, refusing to fold into the expectations of enmeshment just to keep the peace. Somewhere along the way, peace became about appeasement. That kind of peace is a prison.

At the same time, I can miss the moments when I genuinely fail someone—when I step on hearts, neglect responsibilities, disappear emotionally—and I feel… nothing. That’s the part that scares me. Not because I don’t care, but because I’ve lost the signal. I need help, outside myself, to even know when an amends is owed.

That’s why I have to learn—not just what I feel, but what’s actually real. I have to develop an inner compass that doesn’t just react, but discerns. That means listening when someone says, “You crossed a line.” That means learning how to respect the sacred in others—their boundaries, their needs—even when it doesn’t come naturally.

Sometimes an amends isn’t just personal—it’s societal. My awareness can ripple outward. If I’ve been careless with one, chances are I’ve been unconscious with many. And if I want to make a living amends, I need to walk differently through the world. More awake. More accountable. More human.