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One Man's Walk

Jim W.

One Man's Walk

Genres: 12 Step / Recovery
Price: $14.99
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Songs and Samples

Powerless
A Power Greater Than Myself
I Surrender
Put It On Paper
Fessin’ Up
My Old Disguise
Humble Enough to Ask
My List
I Did It
At The End Of The Day
Listening With My Heart
To Keep It I Must Give It Away


Some Nice Things People Have Said

Jim W. takes us on a magical journey from powerlessness into recovery with the honesty, depth, humility and wisdom of one who walks this path and remembers the Grace.
- Joan Furman
Counselor and author of The Dying Time

"One Man's Walk" captures the essence of 12 step recovery in a unique way; it is a gift wrapped in the meaningful package of good music. Kudos to Jim W. for his devotion to this task.
- John Ishee
Pastoral Counselor, Cumberland Heights
Nashville, Tennessee

What a simple and profound idea: a song for each of the 12-steps. Simple and genius once again make an appearance together. And the quality of writing and performance is spectacular. Buy several copies of "One Man's Walk," and your gift buying is complete for the year.
- Thom Rutledge
Psychotherapist & author of Embracing Fear


About Jim W.

My road to recovery began in earnest on January 29, 1984. I was 29 years old on the day of the great New Orleans Marathon. And even though my 3:16:00 performance was a very good 26.2 mile debut, I still couldn't outrun the dark hole I carried inside me.

I stood on the other side of the finish line - alone with the heartache of all the broken relationships, crappy jobs, loneliness the size of an empty super dome and stuck in a world that failed to recognize my genius.

Sure, the lactic acid buildup in my legs was severely painful, but not nearly as painful as the ache in my soul. There I was, powerless and unmanageable, so I did what we do. I bypassed the H2O and moved with surprising speed toward the beer tent. And I drank.

There are hazards in being your own God. There are consequences, too. I had intended to meet some friends for a late lunch. Somewhere between my intentions and my actions I got lost.

The last drink I can remember having was at a restaurant/bar on Esplanade at the edge of the French Quarter. It was not my last drink, just the last one I remember. The place was named Tortilla Flats. From there it was Blackoutville. (That’s a few towns down the highway from Margaritaville. Jimmy Buffet doesn’t sing about this place. No one does - - because no one remembers what goes on there.)

I 'came to' in a bathtub full of room temperature water. Still in running clothes, my exposed skin caked in salt, traces of vomit on my running shorts, excruciating cramps in my legs, totally dehydrated, empty wine bottles in and out of the tub, and more alone than I had ever been. In that moment, my life would change forever. I saw myself for the first time as I really was. A drunk. And then I cried.

What I did next was the one thing I had never thought of doing before. I asked the God that I didn’t know, the God who allowed war and suffering, the God who let my loved ones and friends die awful deaths, yes, that God, I asked him for help. The foxhole prayer rolled off my lips and the desire to drink was gone.

The band did not play. There was no burning bush. I didn’t see an angel. All there was, was silence – a quiet calm inside my head that I had never experienced. Unrecognizable to me, it was the first of many daily reprieves. And it was an act of Grace.

Then came the coincidences. A friend of mine revealed to me that she was an alcoholic and she had been sober for a year. She told me that she attended A.A. meetings. She didn’t tell me about the steps, the fellowship, or sponsors. She didn’t even suggest that I was an alcoholic. She did say that she was speaking at an A.A. meeting and asked if I would attend so she could have a shoulder to lean on.

I felt sorry for her, so I agreed to go. As she told her story, the room was filled with laughter - - not the mean spirited laughter of condescension that I was so familiar with - - It was the laughter of recognition. Every time she spoke about her screwed up bosses (all of them), her tragic love life, her inflated sense of self-importance, everyone laughed with her, not at her. As she got to the serious part about her struggles, her powerlessness, her surrender, and finally her recovery, she was pretty much telling my story. In these people I would find the family I had been searching for since the day I came to the planet.

The old timers say the word that best describes the space between one’s last drink and one’s dedicated effort to moving through the steps is the word "insanity." If you’re reading this, you know how it was.

It’s pretty much the same problem for everyone. The solution is the steps.

I’ve come up on nearly two decades without having to drug and/or drink and I wanted to find a way to tell the story of my recovery. I’ve put my experience, strength, and hope in song form. This is the story of my trip back from insanity.

Some of the signposts might be familiar to you. In spite of the differences, I suspect our stories are more or less the same. I hope there is something in the music that touches you in some small way. Thanks for listening.

See you at a meeting,
-Jim W.
Nashville, Tennessee 2004


News and Reviews

MUSIC NOTES
By Mark T. Gould

“Hi, My Name’s Jim, and I’ve Made a Great, Great Album”

This column could be just like any other CD review. I could tell you how incredible “One Man’s Walk” is. I could rave on about the stellar songwriting, singing and production. I could prophesize that the artist, Jim, has a bright future in music.

But, all that hype would miss the point, for “One Man’s Walk” is not just your basic great debut album, although it most certainly is that. It’s truly about one man’s rise, walk, if you will, out of the lowest point of his life, how he’s worked toward his self-described second chance, and his hope for the future.

And, that ain’t hype, because, well, “One Man’s Walk” isn’t about hype. It’s about reality. Stark, smack you right in the gut, rise up or be defeated, reality.

Jim, the 49-year-old Nashville singer-songwriter, hell, the incredible human being, whose fabulous songs populate the journey revealed on this revelatory record, doesn’t use his last name. Not because he wants to be hip, like Prince or some hip-hop star, but because he must, by the creed of Alcoholics Anonymous, use only his first name and no pictures, despite the absolute public nature of his glorious craft.

You see, the reality that hovers over this incredible work comes with the admission that Jim’s an alcoholic. Recovering, to be sure, but as the sum of the wondrous songs on this moving disc tell the story, his is a day-to- day, stark reality of that very fact.

Jim remains anonymous because that’s how his recovery program works, yet with one listen to “One Man’s Walk,” you will get to know him, in spades. “Walk” is his own amazing story, in song, of how those “Twelve Steps” helped him, and continue to provide him, with the will and the strength, to come to grips with and to break the chain of addiction.

“One Man’s Walk” is 12 songs for each of the 12 steps, but, somehow, it’s so much more than that. It’s an absolutely inspirational musical journey of one man, that is, one strong man’s, ability to cope with a disease on a daily basis. And, despite its purpose, it’s not the least bit preachy. It’s just great songs, played and sung by a great artist.

Jim W’s story leading to this album began just over 20 years ago when, after running a marathon, he awoke from a drinking binge, the vestiges of sickness, both mental and physical, surrounding him.

“For years, I had been able to deny that I was an alcoholic; in that moment, my life would change forever,” he wrote on his web site, jimwsongs.com, where he offers the CD for sale. “I saw myself for the first time as I really was, a drunk, and then I cried.

“What I did next was the one thing I had never thought of doing before,” he wrote. “ I asked the God that I didn’t know, the God who allowed war and suffering, the God who let my loved ones and friends die awful deaths, yes, that God, for help. The foxhole prayer rolled off my lips, and the desire to drink was gone.

“The band did not play, there was no burning bush, I didn’t see an angel,” he wrote. “All there was was silence. A quiet calm inside my head that I had never experienced. It was the first of many daily reprieves, and it was an act of grace.”

It took some time (“I pissed around before I committed to working on the Steps” is the way he describes it), but eventually Jim made the commitment to the 12 Steps, and, as a musician and songwriter, he has committed that process to song, composing each of the remarkable songs on this record.

“I think I’ve got some attention deficit disorder,” he said in a recent interview about the album, “so a three-minute pop song with a great melody and lots of repetitive hooks has always worked for me.

“I have rightly been accused of assault and battery whenever I play guitar or piano,” he added. “I know my way around each of them just enough to compose. No one other than the very deaf and/or dead would call me more than adequate on either. That’s the truth.”

Yet, he said, it was important, perhaps imperative, for him to share his journey through these songs.

“It’s pretty much the same problem for everyone (with the disease), (but) the solution is the Steps,” he wrote on his web site. “I’ve put my experience, strength, and hope in song form. I hope there is something in the music that touches you in some small way. This is the story of my trip back from insanity.”

Initially, he wrote one of the songs, “My Old Disguise,” about his decision to make a change in his life and the therapy that has resulted from that decision. After that, he said in an interview published on the web site, “the songs just started to find me. I knew what I wanted to say, it was just a matter of finding the words and the music to say it.”

The songs do, indeed, say it. Jim does all of the singing and plays all of the instruments on the CD, a one-man tour de force showcase of his amazing, and continuing, journey. Yet, he does offer significant credit to one local Nashville musician whose assistance and inspiration on the project was, he said, enormous.

“Jack Sundrud (a highly successful Nashville-based songwriter, producer and web designer) designed the web site and was a sounding board for the project,” Jim said. “I can say with absolute certainty that this CD would not have been completed without his support and encouragement. I am most fortunate to call him a friend.”

Five stars is, in my mind, has always been the mark of a reviewer declaring a classic album. In Jim’s case, though, a hundred stars may be too few to describe this amazing work.