I found Surrender School through a Google search while looking for an OA Big Book Step Study in 2022. Since then, my journey has taken me through programs such as Abstinence Intensive and The Step One Science.  Today it continues through Eating in the Light of the Moon, Intuitive Eating, and my own exploration of Supercharge.
I’m discovering that the most important lessons don’t stay in the meetings. They show up in real life.
They show up when I notice hunger and stop what I’m doing to eat. When I recognize fullness with food still on my plate. When I become curious instead of critical. And when I wander into an old pattern and discover I can simply return.
Maybe that’s what surrender is becoming for me: Notice. Connect. Surrender. Return.

Notice
For much of my life, I became very good at overriding myself. Hunger could wait until the task was finished. Tiredness could be pushed through. Feelings could be stuffed down. My body’s signals often came second to whatever I thought I should be doing.
Recovery is teaching me to notice.
Sometimes it’s as simple as realizing I’ve been sitting too long and need to move, noticing I’m thirsty, or stopping what I’m doing because I need to use the bathroom. Other times it’s recognizing the subtle “last bite” feeling that tells me I’ve had enough—even though there’s still food on my plate.
These may seem like little things, but for me they are acts of recovery.

Connect
Intuitive Eating has been helping me move away from a lifetime of trying to correct myself through food rules, diets, restriction, and judgment.
I’m learning to replace correction with connection.
Instead of asking, What should I be eating?, I can become curious about what my body is asking for.
Instead of Why did I do that again?, I can ask, What was happening for me?
This is a reminderEating in the Light of the Moon has taken that curiosity deeper. I’m beginning to see the stories and feelings beneath my relationship with food. Food hasn’t just been food. At different times it has offered comfort, escape, distraction, and a way to avoid feelings I didn’t know how to hold.
Knowing that doesn’t magically make those patterns disappear. It gives me the opportunity to meet them differently.

Surrender
Surrender used to sound a lot like giving up.
Today, I’m beginning to experience it as something very different.
I still have footwork to do. I attend meetings, read, write, practise new skills, and pay attention to what I’m learning about myself. But I’m discovering I don’t have to turn recovery into another project to perfect.
I can listen to my body without demanding that I always get it “right.”
I can experience an uncomfortable emotion without immediately trying to make it disappear.
I can make the next caring choice without needing to know where it will lead.
Sometimes surrender is simply allowing this moment to be what it is.

Return
Perhaps this has become the most important piece for me.
I still push past hunger sometimes. I still eat beyond fullness. I still disconnect, avoid, get caught in old thinking, and realize after the fact what was happening.
Recovery isn’t the absence of those moments.
It’s what I do when I notice them.
I’m learning I don’t need to punish myself, promise to do better tomorrow, or start over on Monday.
I can return right now.
Return to my body.
Return to curiosity.
Return to what I need.
Return to recovery.

Still a Student
That’s why Back to “Surrender” School feels so appropriate for this first Recovery in Real Life article.
I’m still learning. I’m still experimenting. I’m still discovering which tools support me and how they fit together.
What I’m most grateful for about Surrender School is that it has given me opportunities to explore recovery from different perspectives—and then take what I’m learning out of the classroom and into my life.
Because that’s where recovery ultimately has to live.
Not perfectly.
Just one ordinary moment at a time.

Notice. Connect. Surrender. Return.

Today, surrender looks like… staying present with what is, listening inward, and trusting that when I wander, I can always return to myself with compassion and curiosity.

Written by Paula B.