I nearly looked past the Holy Grail in Valencia because it wasn’t what I expected to see. Years earlier, I had made the same mistake when I walked into my first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.

Recovery has required me to look honestly at my past and decide what I no longer want to carry with me. I think I’ve focused so much on what needed to be left behind that I forgot there were pieces of myself worth going back for.

Doing the work didn’t make me immune to difficult feelings. It taught me that I could feel them without letting them consume me.

Recovery is like climbing the stairs in Positano. You can’t see the top. You can’t give up when it gets hard. You just have to keep going. One day at a time. One decision at a time. One step at a time.

Sometimes life is about finding joy in unlikely places. Like seeing a poodle wearing a clown nose hovering over the Current River while I’m Alive plays.

It’s hard to imagine finding pleasure in going to a winery in Sicily, Italy when you’re sober. But there’s plenty to enjoy… especially the bread.

I returned to Barcelona in 2026 to once again admire the beauty of the Sagrada Familia. I didn’t expect to leave having seen something else entirely: a person who spent years avoiding feelings, actually feel. Me.

In Alcoholics Anonymous, we talk a lot about God and our Higher Power. Something greater than ourselves. It’s something I’ve personally struggled with during my three years in the program.