The broken window and the lesson that changed everything
My father lives with me and my wife now. He is getting older, and we welcomed him into our home last year. His presence has reminded me of many things he taught me when I was young.
When I was 11, I broke a window playing baseball at a friend's house. It was a big window. I threw the ball, the glass shattered, and all of us kids scattered.
I hid in my room, terrified, until I heard a knock at the front door. As expected, it was my friend's parents coming to do what parents often do: clean up after their kids.
After they left, my father came into my room and sat on the edge of my bed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked gently.
I don't remember what I said. I probably just shrugged, paralyzed by shame.
He asked me to think of the worst things a person could do. Stealing something? Hurting someone badly?
I nodded, imagining the worst.
"Those would be horrible things," he said.
But what my father said next changed my life.
He hugged me tight and said, "Even then, Terry, I would still love you. And we would face the consequences of that together.”
I want to offer you what my father offered me:
No matter what happens with your drinking, or how big the mess feels right now, I want you to know that you are a person of inherent value and you deserve love.
We can face the consequences together. You don't have to hide in the room alone.
I am so grateful that you support me and my efforts with Walking Sober.
I hope to see you on the trail soon.
Walk on,
Terry
This was first posted on my weekly email. You add yourself to the list here.
The Resistance is Real
It’s 6:15 am. I just finished my morning walk.
I wish I could say I popped out of bed filled with motivation. The truth is, I’ve neglected my exercise routine for the last year. I set goals, and I fall short.
The resistance is real.
Last week, there was a morning where I literally sat on the end of the bed with one sock in my hand, staring at the wall, hoping the need to exercise would just evaporate.
I realized that relying on willpower wasn't working. I had to outsmart my own resistance. I made two tiny changes:
1. The Setup: Before bed, I put my socks in my shoes and placed them right where my feet hit the floor.
2. The Reward: I stopped having coffee first. If I drink coffee before the walk, I often talk myself out of going. Now, I set the timer on the machine. The coffee brews while I walk. It's my reward for returning.
Why share these mundane details?
Because this morning's negotiation feels like the early days of navigating sobriety.
Back then, the internal battle was constant. It was exhausting. I felt like I was fighting with myself all day long.
The breakthrough happened when I learned to create distance. I realized the cravings and the resistance were just thoughts. They were noisy, but they weren't me. And they would pass if I just kept moving.
If you are in the middle of that battle right now—whether it's with alcohol, a relationship, or just getting out of bed—I want to remind you that you are brave for even showing up to the fight.
When you feel paralyzed, don't try to think your way out of it. Move your way out of it. Take any physical action to break the spell. Walk around the block. Do the dishes. Put on one sock.
Get your body in motion, and your mind will eventually follow.
Keep walking,
Terry
This was first posted on my weekly email. You add yourself to the list here.
The Power of Starting Small
While I write this at my desk I am surrounded by index cards and journals with thousands of plans and ideas. Many are good ideas, but share a common limitation: an idea cannot take action own its own.
Many of them are excellent and would do well if executed. Ah but that is the rarely understood truth. The index cards cannot take action on their own. They need help.
Today, I took one of those ideas and I showed up in downtown Austin to walk with people who are curious about a sober life.
I had put an invitation out into the world via social media and my website and I emailed some friends.
At 9:55am my friend Amber and her wife showed up to walk with me. Amber has been sober for several years and we have talked together about our journeys.
I was prepared to walk alone but instead I was given a gift when she confirmed she would be there and showed up.
Life breathed into my idea today and made Walking Sober real.
We walked for 35 minutes while talking and enjoying ourselves.
Today was a gift.
I would like you to join me for a walk. Deciding to show up and seeing what happens next might be the gift for you too.
Here is a link to the upcoming events. I would love you to be there.
Terry