Glendale, California. A hot, eight-by-ten shed with sticky linoleum floors and a mattress on a steel cot. Clint H. spent his nights there, held hostage by a pair of socks he mistook for a rat in the dark. He was a power-seeker who had spent a lifetime chasing a feeling of strength through vodka and amphetamines, only to find himself outclassed in a prize fight where Alcohol always won the eleventh round.
A bail bondsman eventually dragged him toward a new kind of power. Clint describes the "elegant power" of a Higher Power that doesn't just help one quit, but removes the obsession entirely. He speaks of "old ideas"—the mental wreckage from a childhood of betrayal and a mother's death—that left him wired to distrust women and crave approval. Now a lawyer, he views the steps as a way to strip away the illegitimate pursuit of power, replacing it with the "honey" of spiritual connection and the humility of a seeker.
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