When a newcomer shared in a meeting about euphoric bliss or sparkly optimism—any evidence of the miracle of recovery—clubhouse old timers would nod sagely and wink: enjoy your pink cloud, newbie.

When I first got sober, there was much talk of the Pink Cloud. A fabled state of well-being mysteriously conferred upon newcomers, this was thought to be a fleeting condition that left as abruptly as it arrived. Like a virus, a unicorn, or an uninvited guest at a party, it came and went capriciously.

When someone counting days would share in a meeting about euphoric bliss, God consciousness, or a sudden state of sparkly optimism—any evidence of the miracle of recovery—clubhouse old timers would nod sagely and wink: enjoy your Pink Cloud, newbie. The implication was that this wouldn’t last, it was just a door prize for coming in to AA.

And you know what? They were right. Those white light “there are no accidents” moments of fairy dust that sparkled like sequins over my life in the beginning did seem to dissipate over time. The $9,000 hospital bill that came back “paid in full” after I paid all I could afford—one hundred dollars? Magical. Getting a job in a diner with my first sponsor that ended up paying well and hooking me up to everyone I needed to know in my new town, leading to a donated vintage sports car and a part in a play, which then launched me on a new career path as an actor? Mystical. The new sense of boundaries after taking a fourth and fifth? Fourth dimensional. Sudden collisions with those I owed amends as I humbly, but willingly, commenced a ninth step? There are no accidents. These early mind-blowers conferred upon me a sense of faith, one I sorely needed if I was to stay sober. Read more “the fix’…