When Was The Last Time You Did Something For The First Time? (In Recovery?)

ADVENTURE!! A few years ago, my kiddo was super into the revamped version of She-Ra. There is a pirate character named Seahawk who tends to set his own ship on fire (this is an aside, but an amusing one) and whenever the team of friends sets off to fight the evil enemy, he yells “Adventure!” with a bombastic tone.  I loved this character and now, whenever my family and I hit the road for something new and interesting, one of us comes out with our best Sea Hawk impersonation. 

I absolutely thrive on adventure and new experiences. There are those families out there that go on vacation once a year and it’s always Disney World at the same time of the year, to the same hotel, with the same park activities…yadda yadda.  BOOOORRRRIIIINNGGG.  I mean, no offense to you if this happens to be you, but I am not wasting MY time on earth doing the same thing over and over again.  There are way too many places to see, smell, hear, and taste – 7 continents and 195 countries in this world alone – and who knows if space exploration will be a thing for the commoner before I die!

I didn’t always have this hard-core new experience philosophy though.  I mean, I’ve always been a go-getter, I must admit that.  If I’ve wanted something, I have moved mountains to get it.  This unquenchable thirst though…this NEED to suck the marrow out of life (a nod to Dead Poet’s Society for my fellow Gen Xers) became real in my recovery.

I remember being newly sober many moons ago and getting invited to an upcoming caving weekend campout (for those of you who don’t cave, you might call it ‘spelunking’ but a true caver would NEVER call it ‘spelunking’ – even though I can’t seem to get a true caver to explain to me why that is).  I had been caving for about two years at this point, but my entire caving career, if you will, had been during my active alcoholic drinking.  I had loved these caving weekends when I was drinking, but I wasn’t sure what they would be like sober.  Before we would drive to the campsite on Friday evening, drink all night (or at least I did – not sure when others gave up), pass out, wake up early, eat some rural midwestern grease-laden breakfast, and head out to the forest where we’d hike to the hole we were descending.  I always got a kick out of the danger, the excitement, the exclusivity of the group (I mean, how many cavers do you know?), and once underground…the absolutely fascinating formations that nature had created.  

Never mind that there were times I couldn’t trust my body and was shaking so bad from alcohol withdrawal I was sure I would fall down some crevice to my death (danger is fun, right?).  Now, being sober seemed like the danger.  What on earth would I do with myself while everyone else drank and smoked pot all night?  What if I didn’t even like caving at all and just liked hanging out and partying?  What if I got into the hole and, with a straight mind, was terrified beyond belief and had to scramble to the surface, embarrassing myself and ruining the trip for the entire gang?  These were very real fears of mine, among many others.

Although it was probably pretty stupid of me to go on that campout, my stubborn ass did it anyway.  I was so newly sober that my ability to say no was questionable at best.  I had no escape plan if I got into trouble and the group of people was completely unsympathetic to my plight.  Miraculously, however, I made it through the evening without a drink or joint, went to bed early, and woke up ready for the trip.  For the first time ever in a cave, I was physically stable and could actually admire the wonders around me.  I could exert myself, army crawling through extremely low corridors and rock-climbing over mountains of breakdown, without worrying that I would hyperventilate from anxiety, or my legs would buckle beneath me.  The only trouble I experienced was shortness of breath, as I sadly inhaled over a pack of Kamel Red Lights a day (I was going to struggle with smoking for years to come in my sobriety, but the end of that addiction is a story for another day!).  The feeling of pushing my body to its limits, using every single limb, organ, and surface area to its fullest, while I experienced something so very few of us have the pleasure of experiencing, was simply indescribable. 

I know, I know…I’m sounding a little New Agey here, but seriously, it was a powerful and impactful realization that has driven my passion for an adventure ever since. It hit me like a ton of bricks that I had been destroying my body for all these years, disrespecting it in so many unspeakable ways. I now wanted to honor my body and use it as a tool to enjoy the world we had been blessed to guard (and yes, I’m aware that my smoking was incongruent with this new philosophy…and there was totally a very torturous internal conflict about this for years to come, which is normal because we are complicated beings, right?).  

Fast forward 13 plus years and I have been able to maintain my recovery (this now includes smoking as well), have tried an insane number of new things, and have gone on some pretty awesome (like the actual definition, not the overused generic way this word has been bastardized) adventures.  As a Sober Curator, I’d like to share many of those experiences with you all, so that we can spread the word that recovery is beautiful, joyful, and can be full of adventure. I invite you to go on my journey with me and discover ideas for ways you can celebrate your recovery pathway and really suck the marrow out of life.  If you are wondering whether you are taking full advantage of the life you’ve been given, just ask yourself, When Was the Last Time you Did Something for the First Time?

Want to find out more about caving?  Check out this video series called Getting Started Caving to get a feel for what it’s all about: An Introduction to Caving (caves.org)  Want to get involved with a local Grotto (caving club) near you? Check out which States have one and who to contact here: NSS Grotto list (caves.org)

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