Finding Still Waters: The Art of Conscious Recovery

By Amy LaBossiere

Embark on a captivating odyssey that unravels the intertwined narratives of art, recovery, and spiritual introspection. With raw emotion and poignant insights, the author bares the harrowing grip of alcoholism, setting the scene for an epic journey from the depths of despa

• Language: English
• Publisher: Still Waters Pond
• Release date: Mar 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9780999577714

Amy LaBossiere

Amy LaBossiere is a notable mixed media artist and writer, with work showcased in 60+ exhibits in CT and NY. Her solo exhibition, "Conscious Evolution," garnered attention, and her piece "Sober Friends" won the Juror's Award at the CT Women Artists Show. Amy's memoir, "Finding Still Waters: The Art of Conscious Recovery," details her path to recovery through art and mindfulness. With vast experience in marketing and PR, she earned her BFA from Long Island University and MA from The Graduate Institute. She advises at the Entrepreneurial & Women's Business Center at the University of Hartford. Amy and her husband, Tao, run the Art of Tao LaBossiere, emphasizing public art. They volunteer at Hartford ArtSpace Gallery. Amy also aids Dog Star Rescue and lives with her rescue cats in Hartford.

Book preview

I

A Beginning

1

Childhood + Other Devastations

I was learning that if I lived slightly in the future — what will happen next — I didn’t have to feel so much about what was going on in the present.

-Augusten Burroughs, Running with Scissors

My childhood memories are faint, sporadic glimmers in a fog of moments that might have happened. I don’t know which are true or false. Some of my memories are from pictures. I see the picture in my mind’s eye and hear the stories family members shared.

I grew up in New York on Long Island, the second daughter in a middle-class family. In my early childhood, my father was a high-powered, well-known corporate executive and my mother quit her job to be a stay-at-home mom.

We had a large yellow ranch home in Huntington, NY. Dad made sure we had a picture perfect front lawn. Every spring, the daffodils and forsythia would come up. It was pretty and well manicured. Our expansive backyard abutted a private Catholic High School. Near the border of the school, way in the back, we had a large sandbox and swing set. I would play out there and it seemed like the house was a mile away. Next to our house was a built-in swimming pool. One day, I stepped on a wasp and screamed my head off. To this day, I am deathly afraid of those creepy buggers.

We lived down the street from a famous football player, and Mom would have afternoon coffee with his wife and other neighbors. I called one of the neighbors Auntie, as she and Mom were best friends. Auntie was Jewish and an excellent cook. We’d go to her house for dinner of potato latkes, matzo and crispy, cold fried fish. My sister and I had grape juice while the adults drank Manichewitz wine or coffee.

When I was seven years old, my mother and father’s relationship broke apart and they divorced. My father worked long hours in the corporate world. Mom said he didn’t really want much to do with us kids when he got home. He wanted to have dinner, watch some TV and work on the yard. Mom said that didn’t work for her.

I think she was lonely and bored. I don’t have the facts of what destroyed their marriage. Who knows what really happens in a relationship. Things are always pretty complex and there are two sides to every story. I don’t know if I will ever know what really happened between them. I do think they were both doing the best they could.

My mom, sister Nancy and I went from living in a beautiful, large home to a smaller house on the south side of town. We went from great abundance to financial difficulties. Even though I always had what I needed, I knew we were struggling because Mom complained about money saying, it doesn’t grow on trees. I became fearful that there would never be enough of