Michael...my angel

This is a long entry today…so buckle up for the ride.

There are two sentences in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous that I read recently. They refer to an important point about my own recovery that I sometimes forget - for strange reasons - given the enormous import an event had in my life while I was in a treatment facility many years ago.

Here’s the story. In mid-January 1988 I went to a treatment center for my alcohol and drug use. I had been “sober” starting about three weeks before when I stopped drinking on my own. Friends had come to visit for Christmas that year and I made it through the holidays in relatively good shape. But, my life had deteriorated so much before that abstinence period started that my brain simply stopped functioning after the New Year. I was a puddle of emotional stress. I was most often sweating and trembling. I was ranting and raving. My wife and I were in constant battles. My then 2.5 year old son acted as a referee several times between us – a graphic image of the sad mess my life had become. At the end it was clear: Either I went to a treatment center to stop the madness or I was going to be alone to wallow in the aftershocks of alcoholism and addiction and, eventually, death.

So I ended up at a hospital for alcoholics and my detoxification began. I was not a happy person there. In fact, I was rude, aggressive, hostile, insulting and miserable, and I wanted everyone there around me to know it and stay out of my way. For the most part, everyone in the treatment center did, including the technicians and counselors who were afraid they had a real crazy person on their hands and not your run-of-the-mill alcoholic.  I spent most of my time alone those first few days. And, this is the part of the story that relates to the Big Book quote I mentioned that was so important in turning my life around.

One night, lying on my bed feeling sorry for myself and tremendously angry about my plight, a young man came into my room I had never seen before. He was hesitant as he asked permission to come in. He was quick to note that the staff had warned him about me and he needed to know if it was OK to talk with me. I said nothing. Not deterred by that, the young man sat down quite a distant from my bed and started to talk.

He said his name was Michael and he was at the facility as a part of his recovery - talking to patients there as a part of his AA commitment to carry the message of recovery to still-suffering alcoholics and addicts. He said he heard about me being so angry and isolated and he wondered if he could talk with me. I said nothing. Not discouraged by my hostile rudeness, he started telling me about his life. He related his story of addiction, living on the beaches of South Florida, and falling apart emotionally and physically. He told me about what happened when he stopped using drugs and how AA had come into his life through other alcoholics and addicts who taught him how to remain clean and sober. And he told me that the same thing could happen to me if I gave up the fight, admitted I had a problem with alcohol and drugs, and decided to join him and others downstairs in a meeting. I said nothing.

He excused himself after those few minutes of self-disclosure and wished me well. When he left, I burst into tears. All the emotional pain inside me caused me to feel incredibly sad. I had squandered my life and I knew it. But, I had never felt, until that night, that there was ever any hope for me stopping the drinking. Michael had given me that hope by his simple presence, courage to talk to a lunatic, and message of recovery that made it possible for me to think the same could happen to me. When I was finished feeling so bad and crying, I went out to the staff office and started talking. You could literally not shut me up for the remaining three weeks. I talked about everything, all my experiences with the insanity of drinking and drugging, and I usually spoke about what happened to me that night when Michael came to see me.

That reference in the Big Book talks about what happened to a man in a hospital bed when another recovering alcoholic came to him and shared his experience, strength and hope. It reads…”I knew that this man had something. In that short period he built within me something that I had long since lost, which was hope.” (page 244)

Now, the truly strange thing is that over the past 25 years that mental image of Michael being in my room that night has dimmed: Sometimes I don’t believe he actually was there. Yet, the emotional memory of it has remained strong.  It is so dim, but so memorable, that I frequently wonder these days if there really was a Michael.  Or, was this an hallucination? Was this event some spiritual process whereby my Higher Power placed in my mind the idea that there was some angel who visited me that night and provided the hope I was missing? Was this really Michael the Archangel come to help me through this life-shattering experience and give me the strength to carry on in recovery?

Who knows the answer to these questions? All I know is that something happened to me in that room. Something came over me when I was physically and emotionally beaten that gave me the strength to admit reality – that I was an alcoholic – and that I could actually do something about that if I had faith that I would not only survive, but prevail. And, I think that’s the same thing that the man in the Big Book experienced.

I never saw Michael again after that night. He never showed up at the dozens and dozens of AA meetings I went to during the ensuing years.

But, he has never left me.

All the best,

Roger

Lesson for today...

My teacher at the Clouds in Water Zen Center I attend on Sunday mornings had a wonderful message today about how we get and use power in our lives.

Using as a metaphor the electrical power outage we had last night due to the most violent thunderstorm I have ever seen, she taught that it is not infrequent for people to experience periodic power outages themselves when they get stressed. In the seemingly endless search for ways to reduce suffering in our lives, we expend energy daily trying to cope and make sense of what is ultimately non-sensical. We manipulate people, places, things and situations as best we can to have them turn out as we wish them to be. We sometimes pull the covers over our head when we fail to get what we want: The unpleasantness of failure is something we most often try to avoid by closing out the world. And, we sometimes look for power in all the wrong places to see if we can effect change.

The moral of her lesson was that mindfulness - living in the here-and-now of the present moment - will allow us to let go of our demand that things go the way they "should" go. It will also give us the perspective to rise above the things that concern us and are out of our control. A person can practice mindfulness anywhere and the usually boring or quiet times in our lives are always good times to stretch the mindfulness legs a bit. It doesn't require formal meditation (although that helps): Instead, it just requires gentle reflection on the moment to give it a careful look and realize what we can control and what we can't. Mindfulness can be likened to the Serenity Prayer in this respect.

I was immediately reminded of a little brochure I published when my son Joe was born. I called it "Son Power Lights Up Our Life" and showed a picture of two-day-old Joe whimsically staring at the viewer. In fact, Joe's birth did restore a sense of power to me at the time when I was swimming with problems and deeply entrenched in drinking and drugging in a futile attempt to make sense of my world. I had squandered the love and power that came to me through my daughters Jen and Becca. I had pulled the plug on my own life and felt the darkness all around me like a shroud.

But, while she was speaking I was also reminded of a page in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous that addresses the kind of power that comes into our lives when we live by principles brought to us through the 12 Steps. In it the writer says...

"Here [in the Steps] I found the ingredient that had been lacking in any other effort I had made to save myself. Here was - power! Here was power to live to the end of any given day, power to have the courage to face the next day, power to have friends, power to help people, power to be sane, power to stay sober. That was seven years ago - and I haven't had a drink during those seven years. Moreover, I am deeply convinced that so long as I continue to strive, in my bumbling way, toward the principles I first encountered in the earlier chapters of this book, this remarkable power will continue to flow through me. (page 386)

In that simple paragraph lies the answer to the power problem for not only alcoholics in recovery but anyone troubled by life's events and suffering inside. Having admitted that we were powerless over alcohol in Step One, now, through the remaining 11 steps, we find the power to effect change in our lives. It is hard to describe how this happens. It seems to only come to those who work hard on integrating the principles of the 12 Steps into their lives. It seems to manifest daily in those people who have faith and courage to face the day without drinking. And, it seems to come to those whose belief in a Higher Power that can transcend suffering in this world can carry them forward every day.

For those not in a recovery program, the same practice can yield remarkable results...and you don't have to be a Buddhist either. The effort is to be mindful and practice healthy principles in our life. The payoff is greater serenity, feeling peace of mind and the sense of accomplishing what used to baffle us. I'd say that is worth the effort.

All the best,

Roger W.

Recovery Blocks and Assets

          I am often asked what it takes to enter, or stay, in recovery from addictions. There's no easy answer. But, there are things people can do daily that will help. I was reminded of this recently when I discovered the shallowness that many of my patients have about the requirements for recovery and how to maintain it.

          

          Recovery from addiction involves the life-long process of balancing those things that block a person from reaching their full potential against personal assets that can offset those blockages. The 12 Step programs of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and Narcotics Anonymous (NA) call blockages to recovery “character defects,” and those things that are assets are called “spiritual principles.” These character defects and spiritual principles are usually uncovered in a recovering person’s personal inventory that is embedded in Step Four of the 12 Step program.

         

          Here are some of the aspects of our personality that can be blockages to recovery; what helps to overcome it, and the corresponding asset (principle) that might be usedt:

• Minimizing problems; Being realistic about oneself (Honesty)
• Blaming others for problems; Taking responsibility for actions (Integrity)
• Isolating; Socializing with recovering people (Communality)
• Acting childishly and impulsively; Acting mature and sensibly (Discipline)
• Demanding of self and others; Having reasonable expectations (Patience)
• Playing it safe; Trusting others and taking risks (Trust)
• Not asking for help; Reaching out to others for help (Courage)
• Rigid thinking; Willingness to try new ways (Willingness)
• Negative attitude; Positive attitude (Faith)
• Self-pity; Gratitude for life (Gratitude)
• Resentfulness or anger; Forgiveness and peace of mind (Compassion)
• Focusing on outside problems; Focusing on treatment remedies (Introspection)
• Ignoring what others say; Listening to others (Respect)
• Not being in touch with feelings; In touch with and sharing feelings (Humility)

          So often, we get bogged down in the trivial pursuit of short term gains in a vain attempt to fight against negative, problematical areas of our lives. We often get overwhelmed by these negative forces and it becomes increasingly difficult to marshal the assets we have that can combat them. Far better is it to concentrate on enhancing assets in the long run.

But, there is hope. Recovering people did not become addicted in one day, so they often need to know that recovery cannot happen in one day either. But, it is possible to put stress on the assets of life, and the more one practices principles the more they become engrained as the dominate part of the personality. Essentially, this notion builds on the idea that a person has a fundamental choice as to how they will discover and address problems in their life. They can allow the negative forces to define the problem and, thereby, allow the blockage to rise that will prevent a healthy outcome. Or, the person can view the problem differently, acting out of confidence that the spiritual principle they hold will be able to address the problem. This choice is restored to the recovering person gradually each day that they remain clean and sober.

I regard myself as blessed that I have this kind of understanding and capacity, and it has served me well over the years. 

All the best,

Roger W.

Ely MN...

I'm in Ely MN for the next several days, just chilling out on my annual solitary retreat. These times away from the routines of my life are increasingly valuable to me. I get a chance to hear nothing but the sounds of my thoughts (except for the occasional chattering of a nearby squirrel) and re-charge.

Ely is a particularly great place to do this. Thanks to the enormous generosity of my good friends George and Mary Kay, I'm able to spend these few days in the splendor of their cabin that is not exactly within the confines of Ely... the exact spot will remain a mystery for the readers of this blog. I don't want to give away too much about it, because I want to protect my friends. Besides, it is one of my favorite spots in the whole world and I want to keep its meaning all to myself.

Ely is a small town in the northern corner of Minnesota - supposedly the late Charles Kurault's favorite little town (and he virtually pioneered the video travel documentary format during his travels to every corner of America). For him to anoint this wonderful place with his highest blessing drove an influx of people here in the 80s and 90s, but it has thankfully retained its charm and a lot of its anonymity since then.

The whole area of northern Minnesota reminds me a lot of my native New England - especially Maine. The lay of the land is similar to Maine and especially the northern part of the Maine coast that eases down to the rugged shore. The place reminds me of Machias Maine where I spent a few vacations in a previous life. The deciduous forest, the winding roads, the sparse settlements, and even the "yard sculptures" of abandoned vehicles and bathtubs that festoon some of the properties is all very familiar to me. The people also have the same kind of attitudes it seems: A stranger getting a haircut from a local, one-chair barber is greeted with caution and plenty of questions for an out-of-towner from "down in the cities." But, people in Minnesota are a bit more friendly than the cranky ole Mainiacs who might actually give you the wrong directions you ask for just to ensure your experience in Maine is so bad that you never come back. Here, they're nicer to your face, and they let the "state bird" - the biting black midge - do the dissuading to strangers.

The whole area borders the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, and Ely is one of the towns that is nested just outside it near the Superior National Forest. The Boundary Waters is a million acres of pristine land with more than 1,000 lakes where no motorized equipment of any kind is allowed. In fact, Ely is one of the staging areas for explorers of the area who take canoe trips into the Boundary Waters to camp and fish. So, in a sense, it's quiet in the off season and a bustling little frontier town in the Summer for tourists galore.

All the more reason why it has been a real treat to be here before families arrive with their RVs and boats. I have always liked being alone in places like this at the time others have chosen to be away. There is something incredibly peaceful and fulfilling - if only for a blink - to know you can have an intimate relationship with the natural world and put the rest of it all on hold.

Of course, the temptation for me will be to not just veg out with the TV or dive into books for teaching. I'm challenged by the nature of the place to go for walks, to meditate the way Thoreau did, and sometimes just sit on the porch and do absolutely nothing.

Life is good.

Roger W.

Celebrating Serenity...

Last year I completed a research project on the spiritual transformation that alcoholic men go through in the first year of their sobriety. I called it Celebrating Serenity: The Spiritual Journey of Alcoholic Men Throughout Their First Year in Recovery. The men were between the ages of 19 and 56, from a variety of religious/spiritual backgrounds, and were between 4 and 12 months sober. There were many interesting aspects to the study, some that corroborated pieces of information known about what men go through in recovery, and one important new piece of data that showed the true nature of spiritual change for these men.

            The first finding was that men in early recovery recognize they are coming off a period in their lives that several of them called the “spiritual wasteland.” Buffeted by the strong winds of discord within their families, troubles at work, an erosion of their faith in themselves and God, and the misery of not being able to stop drinking at any cost, these men described the period just before getting sober as being incredibly painful. Suicide was not an uncommon thought as a way to end the downward spiral of their lives. Recognizing the uncontrollable spin they were in made matters worse. They despaired at every finding anything that could help them.

            But, for each man, something happened at one point in their lives when they began to feel there was hope. It usually came upon them suddenly. They saw that things could not get any worse: They recognized that no human being, system, or institution could help them, but that perhaps something outside themselves could work to heal them. This realization was sometimes fleeting or it could be a thought that lasted for several days. But, it was, by almost every standard, a spiritual experience: It relied on information thought and felt that was beyond the realm of ordinary experience for them and certainly not bound by physical or material constraints. It turned out to be the first tier of a spiritual breakthrough.

            For each of the men, the second tier of this spiritual experience took longer to develop. Each man found that, once they stopped drinking due largely to the first tier spiritual experience, they gradually developed a deeper understanding of and appreciation for the spiritual nature of their recovery. Several of them lived on a “pink cloud” for quite a few months where they felt wonderful for the first time in years. Others felt a gradual deepening of their relationship with God, as they understood God. But, all of the men could describe in great detail what it felt like to be connected to some power greater than themselves that was helping them stay sober.

            The sudden onset of a spiritual experience that gradually deepened led invariably to the third finding of the study - they developed a personal relationship with a power greater than themselves. All but one man called this power “God”, and the other (a Native American) termed it the “Great Spirit”. But, regardless of the name, the lasting impression for each man was that he now had the ability to communicate in a personal way with this power. Some felt the power guided their every decision. Others, felt it was available to them whenever the need arose to help them deal with life’s situations or overcome a powerful urge to drink. One man had the palpable feeling that his God was with him constantly. Another said it was like having a good friend who understood him better than anyone else. Regardless of the manifestation, this personal relationship with the higher power they identified was the single most tangible result of their spiritual breakthrough.

            Each man also recognized that to maintain this experience, he had to engage in some physical activity that was grounded in his newly found faith. All of the men were involved in some level of community service. Most worked through Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) with still-suffering alcoholics who needed to hear the message of recovery as lived by these men. The need to put their faith into action was a hallmark of the men’s experience and defined for them the way in which they would give back what most of them said was so freely given to them – sobriety.

            The information the study provided about the wasteland that active alcoholism is, and the practice of good works by helping other alcoholics recover, was not new information for scholars of recovery. But, the idea that the spiritual transformation occurs at two distinct levels was new information. While many writers over the years have suggested that it is an either/or proposition – either a sudden realization, or a gradual awakening – this study showed that it is really both. It seems that the onset of a spiritual experience occurs quite suddenly with a thought or internal dialogue about alcoholism and the possibility of recovery, followed by a longer and deeper period when that idea is refined and crystallized.

            The results of this study are really good news for anyone in early recovery. They demonstrate that there is a common experience before one stops drinking, and a very tactile sense of spiritual change once it is felt that one cannot go on drinking. Armed with this hopeful information, recovering men can, as the AA Big Book says, “trudge the road of Happy Destiny.”