I re-entered the world more fully last week, with several social engagements. Truthfully, I've been out and about all along, but with the shift in CDC mask-guidance, this felt more real, face-to-face, with hugs. On Thursday, a cousin and I had lunch with my mother's oldest living relative, going strong at 93, followed by dinner with a friend later that evening, making plans for our trip to New York in the fall. On Saturday, my spouse and I watched a basketball game at our good friends' house. I almost cried with the resumption of simple pleasures we've missed for over a year.

On Sunday, I was invited to join a memorial for my husband's ex-wife's father, honored to be included in this family that was before me. I'd never met my step-daughter's grandpa, but I do know loss and the feeling of being untethered once both parents are gone, as well as the realization that any layers between me and old age are swiftly disappearing. I'd been a little nervous as we drove down, figuring I wouldn't know anyone there, only to be greeted by a program acquaintance. That's what I get for thinking ahead.

On the way home, I got to be a fly on the wall and listen to a phone conversation between my husband and his good friend as they reminisced about their 20's, tripping around San Francisco, creating music and art and exploring their world. His experiences were at least 40 times higher in the official creative department than mine, but there truly is something to be said for the joy and wonder of those years of late adolescence /early adulthood, years of new freedoms and new responsibilities. Yes, they were mostly alcohol (etc) fueled, but I, too, remember heady conversations about life and death, politics and god, as we questioned, and began to more sharply define our ideals.

Of course, for many of us, those ideals took a left turn as the disease of addiction became the prime directive, but for a while, the possibilities truly did seem endless. Early recovery felt that way too. I was only 31 when I got sober, aware that growing up would've been easier at the age-appropriate junctures, but, there again were long conversations about life and the death we'd narrowly escaped, about spirituality and integrity and doing the right thing. Those conversations are rarer these days, when we're a bit jaded, and more likely to talk about Medicare and creaky knees, but, every once in a while, I'm swept away in deep discussion about loss and forgiveness, time passing and lessons learned.

I found myself crying in my Tuesday group, feeling safe with this small group of women I know primarily from online meetings. Already tender after the Sunday memorial, remembering my mother's service, I shared a particularly painful amends story from early recovery. I'd hoped that being sober and saying how sorry I was would excuse hurtful things I'd done, mere months earlier, but that's not how amends work. It's about showing, not saying. Over time, I was able to prove that I was a changed person by changing my behavior, but those early months and years were a painful lesson in letting go - of my expectations of myself and my hopes for how others would react to my intentions. These days, my intentions and actions line up. Life is so much simpler that way.

How do the principles of the program show up in your daily life? Do you follow through on commitments? Are you a good friend or family member? Are you true to your own ideals today, and if not, where is compromise appropriate and where might you take a look at reclaiming your power?

REQUEST for those who've done the NOW WHAT? workbook: One of the final questions asks what topic(s) you might add to the workbook discussion. If you would, drop me a line at shadowsandveins@gmail.com and let me know what came up for you. Thank you!