Somedays, I wish I lived on a deserted island. One with power, water and plumbing, of course, and maybe a cook. Oh, and a nice spa down the road for those days I need a little pampering.

Why all this wishing myself into a more solitary existence (except for my personal care retinue of course!)? Because doing recovery with others is sometimes messy. Really messy. And exhausting.

But you know what? Likely, somebody looked at my crazy life and thought the same thing. But they hung in there. Because this isn’t a “me” program, it’s a “we” program. We get better together, when we’re honest with each other and with ourselves. That’s when the magic, the miracles start to happen. We see color again. Life becomes fresh and new.

Healing comes only by scrubbing out our wounds, letting the blood flow and then allowing the scars to form, understanding if we just keep pasting dirty bandages on a gaping wound by ourselves, telling everyone around us that we got this, we risk further injury to our hearts, minds and spirits. And the longer I tell myself and others that I’m fine when I really need help, the longer it will take for me to find the healing I so desperately need.

And there will be times when we “sit it out” for a spell. Refreshment is good for the spirit. There are times we are givers, and times when we must hunker down and receive, because that’s just where we are. The most important thing to remember, is that I have good, loving people in my life that will love even when it is hard, and that I continue to allow them to speak truth into my like, even when it’s the last thing I want to hear, it’s often the first thing I need to hear.

As we walk into the next several days, let us each examine the corners of our recovery and our lives. Am I being rigorously honest about those things that I tend to keep tucked behind the closet door of my soul? Or do I make a joke about the whole affair and change the subject, hoping you won’t notice? I must remember though, progress, not perfection.

Much love to you all.