Wine Country Times

On Sept. 18, 18 women went on a walk. It was early in the afternoon before it had a chance to get hot. They were asked to bring their journals, and a water bottle. The women were instructed to envision the road ahead as their path to recovery and how it mirrored what they may be struggling with in their lives. 

The trail started off on concrete and soon the road forked off to gravel, and loose rocks, and uneven ground. They were told that once on the dirt path ahead they were to engage their senses and record what they were seeing, hearing and experiencing, but to do so without speaking. 

The women walked on, unsure of their footing, as the terrain began to change. They were hesitant in their pace, and looking at those passersby that for a brief moment shared the unmarked trail, either coming or going. Sometimes they smiled or made eye contact, but mostly they walked on.  The trees created a canopy of twists and turns where squirrels ran along, looking down on these guests with interest. 

There were Does, and Dear, with whispered sounds of delight. There were turtles sunning on drifting logs, who quickly submerged as we came closer.  There were dangers and surprises in the crevices and shadows. A rattle snake baking on the hot cement was unbothered by our tip-toeing quickly passed it.  Lizards scurrying away, tails and all. The warm sun, a soft breeze and the countless birds and squirrels watched on curiously surrounding us like an embrace. What a welcomed feast from the pandemic isolation, not to mention finding our footing on the path of our own recovery.  

Ironically, in the middle of our walk around the lake, there we found 12 wooden steps nestled off the beaten path embedded into the terrain. One of the greatest tools for people recovering from alcoholism and or addiction is the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. Poignant, in the moment, that we can only attain the next step in a sequence to a new promise of a better life. The first step of admitting that our lives had become unmanageable, followed by the second step, came to believe, then making a decision. 

As we walked each step, one at a time, building on the one before to take us where the hearts of these 18 women desired most, a life free of active addiction, an opportunity to regain our children, repair our lives and relationships, and for today find reprieve in the little 24 hours ahead.  

Some of the women counted the steps again and again, in disbelief that here in the middle of nature, someone had designed the path with 12 steps. Each woman had to take each step, in complete awareness of the message that spoke to each of us that day.  Although we shared the path, each woman had her own experience to navigate what was right under her feet. We had to trudge through uneven ground, slippery footing, motivated by what lay just a little beyond our sight. How far would I go for my recovery?  

The trail led to a small bridge but to cross it, we had to trust, and persevere. It was as if we were making an agreement and a commitment to walk across to a new way of life as the promises of A.A. eloquently states. Some women opted for a small detour to a dead end, then back with the larger group. They stopped along the way to write, and just stand in the moment — clean and sober — their eyes wide to the lake, the trees overhead offering shade, and the sound of each other’s footsteps let us know we were not alone.  Each woman experiencing her own journey, with her own thoughts, dreams, goals and desires just ahead on the trail of recovery.   

The road unfolded a small framed exit that led to the clear blue sky ahead. The women did not ask which way to go… the path was clear… they trudged on, walked with purpose. After which we made a small detour to the local frozen yogurt place. Needless to say, the group was once again quiet, grateful and full. 

Diane Madrigal is the executive director of Women's Recovery Services, a nonprofit organization in Santa Rosa, California, that helps families recover from a mother's addiction.