<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Trip on Walking in Sober Boots</title><link>https://soberboots.org/tags/trip/</link><description>Recent content in Trip on Walking in Sober Boots</description><image><title>Walking in Sober Boots</title><url>https://soberboots.org/soberboots/assets/uploads/2023/07/img_1290.jpg</url><link>https://soberboots.org/soberboots/assets/uploads/2023/07/img_1290.jpg</link></image><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en</language><lastBuildDate>Mon, 13 Feb 2017 10:26:59 -0500</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://soberboots.org/tags/trip/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Another Gift of My Sobriety</title><link>https://soberboots.org/2017/02/13/another-gift-of-my-sobriety/</link><pubDate>Mon, 13 Feb 2017 10:26:59 -0500</pubDate><guid>https://soberboots.org/2017/02/13/another-gift-of-my-sobriety/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Reconnecting with my wife has been one of the most precious gifts of my sobriety. In the depths of my drinking, there were times when I felt that I’d lost her emotionally — times when I felt like we didn’t connect at all — and I didn’t know why. The reason is quite clear in retrospect, but when you’re stuck in your shit, you don’t see it.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>