Adrift Alone

We have nothing without light to walk by. That’s why getting sober alone is such a drag.

Without someone alongside us showing us the ropes, encouraging us, directing us and offering their own wisdom to us, we are adrift.

Driftwood does sometimes make it ashore, but not without the cost of being tossed at sea, broken further and worn.

Better to grab hold of a life vest and a hand reaching down to pull us into the boat.

It may seem a cheap inflatable, but once we are on board, we realize this was the ship we’d been trying to swim alongside.

The arrogance of active addiction is not something I look back on proudly, but rather as a warning going forward.

Despite reality, we really were convinced we could swim forever on our own. And despite the storms we did weather, we only came to our senses during brief interludes where death was lurking as nearby as safety.

Give us eyes to see the truth. This makes all the difference. We’ve got to reach out and accept it and swim towards it. But first, we need a shock of reality.

We enjoy calling these moments of clarity or divine intervention. But whatever the case, let us be in tune with them when they come.

We don’t have to go it alone. Indeed we find that if we open our eyes, the sea is full of fellow survivors looking for us already.

God, tune my heart to see your grace. Give me eyes to see your life vest.