Tag Archives: fun in recovery

Perfectionism has no place in recovery. 
It takes time to absorb our program, and we do that during our down time,
not while we’re working. It makes no sense to cram, because
the program has only one criterion: improvement.


We have to take time to smell the roses.

If you’re not having fun, you’re doing something wrong,

Having fun is the first condition of creativity.

Alice Miller (1923-2010*

In order to teach effectively, a teacher needs to create a curriculum that stimulates student’s minds. The best ones think up exciting, fun projects that keep students interested, engaged and — yes — entertained. (Unfortunately, most of us know what the others do.)

Recovery requires work and sometimes pain, and can become drudgery. There has to be effort, and often we don’t want to deal with the things that come up, or want to minimize them. However, it does not have to be — and should not be — boring or tedious. If it is, someone is doing something wrong, and we need to take a good look at how we’re handling our program. Continue reading

Oh For God’s Sake, Lighten Up!


by Bill

Most of us addicts became isolated from others, unable to relate to them in healthy ways. We either tried too hard, or not hard enough. When we found ourselves failing to fit in, we turned to “in groups” who thought like we did. Those may have been genuine efforts to find a place where we belonged, but since they were nearly always based on some form of addiction — drinking, drugging, gambling and so forth — we were associating with other wounded souls who were grasping but not able to hold onto that same feeling of belonging. Our isolation continued, even in a crowd.

The value of humor in relieving the tension of situations and increasing the enjoyment of life has been recorded by poets, playwrights and others for thousands of years. Humor brings people closer, cements social bonds (people who laugh at the same things we do are accepted, others are kept at arm’s length), and defuses tense moments.
Continue reading