Looking back, I think I’d begun the process of the fourth step from the first few days. Like my life was all contained in a one big box, and I took it in my hands, flipped it over so everything fell on the floor, and said here’s nothing. What dust is kicked up. What shattering …
The most important things are all things I don’t have words for. The way robins appear one morning, where there were no robins the night before, and what this does to a human throat. The way a redwing blackbird calls, kind of like a pipe of blown glass, clipped, hitting a high and then a …
I have hurt someone I love. I’m not even terribly sure what it was I said. I’m fairly certain I was being sarcastic, a brutal little pride bone that hijacks my best intentions. It has something to do with my writing, and our differing beliefs on god and recovery. If I am going to speak …
I held a sleeping girl in my arms today. The girl is my niece. She was born the day I had six months sober. We are linked. There is the blood relation. But I mean something else. I mean our entire relationship is based on my recovery. She is my world, and she is only …
