Matt Talbot Aftermath 2026

I’m home from the retreat. I’ve had some time to reflect. Think about my weekend. I keep replaying the events over and over. I realize something really important. Our retreat leader, Jeremy, commented on its importance actually.

Transformative experiences.

I realize that this is one of those for me. As painful of a lesson that I hopefully learned this morning, I let myself throw away my experience I had the whole weekend. I cannot throw the baby out with the bath water, as they say. I’m not sure anyone says that anymore, but here it is.

Now you may say, Doug, if you went out on the town partying in Vegas and had an amazing weekend with the boys and then it all ended with a drunken car crash, you wouldn’t say, “Hey, what a great weekend!”

Now reality lies somewhere in between. No one else was killed in the crash. Just a really banged up ego and a small bus load of expectations. I drive home in silence most of the way. I wish I had my notes so I could try and recreate some magic, but I can’t. I call my wife and tell her what happened in my sleep deprived moment of superior stupidity and we both agree. With the stupid part for sure.

Team Stupid Captain once more!

But mostly this.

My ego is hurt. Damn near bleeding out. I take a lot of pride in capturing the little tales and inside jokes that make us laugh and cry. That is definitely part of it.

Jeff just called to check on me and see if I was still in the fetal position, rocking back and forth. Maybe… how did he know that??? The counselor in him could see my distress. Thank you my friend.

I used to ride my bike to this retreat. Almost never drove in a car to a retreat in 15 years. It was so much of my identity. When I was no longer doing that, I lost myself. It was like a death. Some of it my ego for sure but a lot of it was just the pure joy of spending time and watching others do things previously unattainable. That I was the catalyst for it brings me great joy. When I was no longer a participant in that activity I felt lost. Less than. Like a mere mortal.

Somewhere along the way I came to grips with my new self and my new shape and my new path. I continued to journal on retreat and that was what I became known for. Not the guy in spandex with amazing quads. The guy who writes. It felt good to contribute and to document and especially to share. I truly feel that it is worth documenting as I forget. I forget the details so quickly.

When I can look back and read about prior retreats I am transported back and recall feelings and conversations and friends and hardships and triumphs. Tokens and wisdom shared by the great men that surround me.

So what is the lesson other than the obvious ones?

Don’t let any one thing or moment define you. If you keep reaching out and daring to be your best and look for ways to grow and stretch and lift yourself and others up, you will be successful.

Don’t answer the landline as it’s mostly bill collectors. Not as helpful a tip these days but one that brings back memories. Now it’s unknown caller id numbers to avoid.

If you make ALL of the amends. You feel freedom you can’t imagine. Now if we can come up with hopefully a wholesale dollar figure and fill out the check and make sure to add the right amount of zeros and we get second and third chances from the judge and we stumble and fall back into the loving arms of the Poway Sheriffs Department and get back up and check our cocaine at the door or in a bush, we can maybe live this life of freedom.

Side note:
Sharing with the group that there’s no cameras in the beer cooler at the grocery store because they fog over was a great detail. Probably one better left out for this group, but who am I to judge?

Jeremy makes peace with his past. His relationship with his mother. Finds a new path to spirituality.

SPIRITUAL

Am I bringing SPIRIT to the RITUAL? A Sunday morning gem I remember while hanging my head in shame and disgust. Bring my spirit to all those rituals. Whether walking the dogs or saying the Serenity Prayer.

And don’t forget the envelope. Pay back the envelope. Really you don’t have to… but here’s my routing number.

His sister, who has a few things to add to the amends list. His father he really never knew. He gets the freedom because he’s done the work. He has Lana and Levi and a beautiful wife. I hope I remember his kids names right. I feel bad I don’t know his half side’s name. I feel bad I forgot so much already. But I haven’t forgotten the feeling and the fact that Jeremy tells my story. Much more poignant and far more fit and attractive and he has a really nice watch and a wild sobriety story and a date that makes my conspiracy self question everything.

November 22, 2009 if I recall. The reason I remember is because of the date. Dealey Plaza. Dallas, Texas. JFK. Well not in 2009, but on this day. 1963. A conspiracy that led me to a drug fueled spiral in 91-92 that saw me writing a letter to Oliver Stone in the middle of the night. I was so obsessed. It was literally on my last night out there. I still have the letter. It reads like the ravings of a lunatic. Probably would have gotten a restraining order from Oliver if I managed to mail it to him. Or maybe a job offer, as it happens. He was pretty far out himself I’ve heard.

So of course, this young father was here to lead us. To give his most valuable asset. His TIME. A commodity that seems plentiful until it’s not.

He was here to lead me and teach me lessons. Mostly teaching us to just do the damn work. ALL OF IT!

Ask for HELP!

Write it on a damn dry erase board if you have to. But take the hand that reaches out and hold on!!

I learned that Meditation is NOT extra credit. A tough pill to swallow for sure as I feel like with all the minutes of mediation that I’ve done in the last 33 plus years, I could have filled a thimble and really boosted my GPA by a substantial amount. Harvard Meditation University here I come!!

I learn that we’re all doing the best that we can with the tools we have. Some of us are better equipped and maybe a little more handy than others. I feel Ron laughing at me and my lack of skills with power tools and iPads and iCloud’s.

So the biggest shame of all is that I let it affect my mood and my overall experience. I need to hold on to my memories of what was. My conversations with so many men. So many so many deep and meaningful. So many playful and silly. My friends and their kindness.

All Day Paul and Sam I am stand out as they are my biggest cheerleaders. I feel like I let them down. Sam says to me as I walked to my car. You dropped your ice cream cone. I sure did Sam. Easy for him to say… he loaded up on ice cream all the way up the coast and probably ate that penguino by now.

My small breakout group Number six of three to four was all I could ever have hoped for. Pauly Lama and Shane and Thomas. My people. Their stories and struggles and triumphs. Their amends and our laughter. Shane getting butterfly poop on him was unforgettable and timely.

Trevor and his leadership is inspiring. Ron’s HP Inspired moment of calling him out to speak at HIS meeting for 20 minutes a few retreats ago was transformative for everyone who was there. Most importantly for Trevor.

Instant connectness.

Matt, the former bike thief (allegedly) is here as well and I feel exactly the same about him. A special bond that will not be forgotten. Those are the moments I must glean and hold onto and nurture and protect. Jamie following in those footsteps as we truly attempt to rally around anyone that is new and willing. Willing to open up and let us inside. The men in this room literally show me the how and the why we do.

Transformative experiences.

I just received a message from David:

You Are Amazing !!!

 Believe It

what a shocking start for you this morning and I think you handled it beautifully .

LoveYa

Jeff asked earlier if I was coming to WW tomorrow. I tell him my blind dog is getting her stitches out tomorrow and he says I better be at Water Walkers or they will come looking for me.

These are the men I need in my life. These are the men I choose to follow.

So what happens now? I continue to write. Whether it gets saved in the cloud or read a loud or read by no one but me. I write because it helps me heal. It helps me uncover what lurks beneath the surface. Under the waves. Is the water still and calm? Can I duck-dive and get to the other side of the crashing waves and pick my head up and reassess?

Recalibrate. Like my son Alex and his golf coach Cory says. Trouble putting? We need to recalibrate. See if you are doing what you’re intending to do. You can’t make corrections if you don’t know what to fix. A tenth step if you will. Are you doing the things and being the guy that GOD intended? Are you living a life with purpose?

I would say yes.

Far from perfect and definitely one that needs to recalibrate. But I am here. Back from retreat. With life lessons and new friends. Now all I have to do is be present. Tell the truth.

And meditate. No need for extra credit, Jeremy. I received more credit than I deserve. I’ve gotten all the gifts one man could possibly ever hope for.

Doug Morgano
Somewhere in space on a giant rock hurtling through time and space and towards radical acceptance (Ramona , CA)
3-29-2026