I was at a conference recently, and I honestly went for two reasons:

  1. My favorite speaker, Brené Brown, was going to be there.
  2. I was getting class credit for going, which you just cant pass up!

The conference was called Catalyst and was essentially a three day leadership conference. I had heard about it but really didn’t know what to expect.

I walk up into a group of roughly 8,000 people waiting for the madness to ensue and to get into the arena. As I wait for a my friends to arrive I notice there are tall white boxes spread around the courtyard. The word “Wonder” is stenciled on the outside. I look around to see some folks playing conrhole. Then I see tables full of adults tediously picking out the colors they wish to use to fill in the the shapes on the coloring book pages in front of them. I turn to my right to see two grown men twirling sticks with ropes attached, the rope’s middle filled with soapy water to create one of the largest bubbles I have ever seen. Lastly I turn to see one of my greatest loves, a grassy area filled with hammocks.

This place was astounding. I whole heartedly believe heaven will look something like this.

My friends arrive and we finally make it inside to see big screens lit up with the theme of the conference this year: Awakening the Wonder. It clicked.

Over the next three days I would come to see that I had lost my simple childlike wonder.

I wanted it back.

In the past few months I have found myself so focused on maintaining my recovery that I was slowly losing my creativity, my writing, and my passions in life. I was trying to simply stay inside the rules I had set for myself just so I could add another day to my sobriety. There was just something not right about it. I am aware that everyone recovers differently and my story is not going to read like other recovering addicts, but the way I was handling did not feel right to me.

The point of recovery is not to just have a set of rules to check off at the end of the day. Yes, those rules are important and vital to the recovery process, but they are not the end game. The end gam his to discover yourself. Once you have stepped out of the denial that has held you captive for so long you get a clean slat essentially. A clean slate to figure out who you are, who you want to be, and rediscover the wonder that was in you at such a young age. So needless to say this three day wonder awakening could not have come at a better time.

So back to the conference. Durning the lunch and dinner break we walked around to the tall white boxes to see what wonder they held. Box one had a pile of Legos and the walls of the box were the platforms so that you could build from any angle!

After visiting a few more we came across one that you could get inside. I opened the door. The walls were black, and just a bench was inside. Looking at each other with pretty confusing looks I was the brave one to go in first. With one of those mischievous smiles my friend Wazzy shut the door behind me.

It was dark.

They must have put soundproofing material in the walls because the outside was but a dull roar with all of the commotion.

Then I hear the point of this box.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

It is a heart beat.

I am sitting in a dark box with ruckus going on outside and all I hear is a heart.

Silence with a heart beat.

For the first time in a while I was quiet. My mind was still. There was peace in my life.

It couldn’t have been longer than thirty seconds, but it’s all I needed. I needed to do nothing and sit. Sit and be present with myself and no one else. Not with my recovery, not with my schooling, not with the worries of the future, but with me myself and I.

Wazzy decided to ruin my moment and open the door, wondering what was so special about the box. They all try it and we go on about our day, but that moment stuck with me. It reminded me that it is okay to slow down and take a breath, in fact it is necessary.

The following days were nothing short of inspirational. The speakers reminded us to take time to ourselves and rediscover what inspired us in the first place and how we can use our inspiration and wonder to inspire those around us.I have to remember why I am here and what got me here.

My story may not be beautiful by the world’s standards. But it is beautiful. Broken and beautiful, just like others around me. That is what has become my passion. I want the wonder of hope and grace to be seen by others, and if I can be a vessel for that, then I’d say I am fulfilling my purpose.

Peace