The Wonder of Words

I remember the first poem I wrote, I was no more than ten years old, and my mother helped me with the rhyming before school one morning. I cannot remember what prompted me to attempt to write a poem, but I remember how excited I felt at the possibility that I could make something meaningful about myself from simple words. My mother urged me to show it to my teacher; I duly did and the teacher rewarded me with several silver coins and sent me to the ‘big room’ to where the principal taught and I was handsomely rewarded by him as well with a shiny septagon Irish 50p piece that I clutched proudly in my ten year old palm.

From there on my love affair with words began. I was very fortunate to have parents who encouraged my brother and I to read and every Saturday morning, my mother would drop my brother and I to the town library where I would spend hours pouring over the dogeared collection of children’s books. Agonising over my final choice, I would take a big pile to the librarian and she would remove the small rectangular cardboard ticket and stamp the date for return with a resounding whack. I would carefully bring my literary stash home and spend hours curled up reading everything from Jane Austen to Mallory Towers by Enid Blyton. Books were a chance to try out life in someone else’s shoes, an escape, and I would often recite the passages of prose of the different characters putting on any accents or affectations required softly to myself. I devoured each page of the library books with the childish appetite of a girl curious about the world and all that it contained.

Fast forward to 2025 and both words and books are still omnipresent in my life. Whether it is writing a song, completing research as part of my doctorate or simply writing a handwritten card to a friend, words remain a constant comfort and an important way to express myself.

Since I removed alcohol from my life, the language around living an alcohol -free life continues to fascinate me. The ability of words to label us – an example being the word alcoholic which I wrote about in my first blog - and the ability that words have to potentially reframe how others see us and more importantly how we see ourselves is a powerful tool that we can utilise to carve out our place and identity in our new sober world. Abstinence, acceptance, recovery, addiction, resilience and relapse are all big words used regularly in recovery that can stir strong feelings within us. These words and their inferred meaning can provoke emotions that can be uncomfortable at times but the wonderful thing about words is that they bequeath a key to us, to all of us, to unlock communication. They provide a means for us to express ourselves to our friends, family and to communicate to the wider world, but more importantly words provide us with the means to engage within the TABB community. Nowhere is this more apparent than at our support meetings where the mutual support and words expressed by and between us help and encourage us all as we traverse the sometimes-rocky road of a sober life. I have experienced the power of the way that we use words in meetings numerous times and it is so life affirming and uplifting. I believe this is because ultimately the ability that we all have to express ourselves crosses the bridge or divide from isolation to unity and connection and we all know that this is key to what makes all the difference in maintaining a sober life.

I have at times struggled with the responsibility of words, with the often weighty responsibility of expressing myself. Sometimes it just comes out all wrong. Often in TABB meetings I will add a disclaimer of ‘I don’t know if any of this makes sense’ after my share, and sometimes it feels like the jumble of thoughts in my head lie revealed in the open space of the zoom squares like a strange ugly creature I have had to expel from myself. But therein lies the balm, the soothing and the healing. Because it always helps to talk, and it always helps to share, and it absolutely always makes things a bit better - sometimes in an intangible small way but sometimes in a huge revelatory way.

I will leave you with the lyrics from a song that I wrote a few years ago and sang at the Hola Sober Gathering in Dublin for Susan, the Hola Sober founder. Although the song was originally written for my husband, I sang it as a tribute to Susan because I wanted her to know how very lucky I consider myself to have met her, to have engaged with her programme early on in my journey and to be still here, heart beating, living, breathing and traversing through this interesting and brave new world. Today I dedicate it to each of you wonderful women who walk by my side.

Landmark

You show me the way

Every hour of every day

This globe of a world spins around

Stopped it with my finger and it’s you I found

Chorus:

You’re my landmark,

My North star

Compass of my heart

That’s what you are

Blank pages so stark

Fear my muse has left me in the dark

But you always know

The right way to go

When the blizzard blew me down

And I tumbled into this town

You held me night after night

Until the darkness faded to light

There’s Hansel with his trail of crumbs

Gretel marches home to the beat of her own drum

Reaching a fork in the road

I see the home fires glow

MEMBERS ONLY

The ability that words have to potentially reframe how others see us and more importantly how we see ourselves is a powerful tool that we can utilise to carve out our place and identity in our new sober world.

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