Are We There Yet?

I recently surpassed 30 months of recovery. It wasn't a milestone that I was looking for; I happened to be in a recovery meeting and simply counted how many months I've been in recovery, and I was surprised - 30 months seems like a long time to me! And, in truth, it is the longest that I've ever been in this kind of recovery. 30 months is a long time, if taken a month at a time. Taken day by day, or even moment by moment, it goes by relatively quickly.

I've heard that recovery/sobriety is a journey, not a destination. It's a neat concept to think about, and perhaps a comforting thought if I'm not where I want to be after 30 days, or 6 months, or 2 years. But what does it really mean? What does it feel like to be on this journey with no visible or even conceptual end? If there isn't a pinnacle, or a finish line, then what is there?

I was chatting with my supervisor the other day (the same one who called me an overachiever for oversleeping), and I happened to mention that what my aim is in recovery is to die from something besides alcoholism or suicide. That's not really the aim of recovery, but a 'successful' recovery from alcoholism/depression ends with a heart attack, or a car accident, or maybe a jealous ex-boyfriend - who knows? So we pretty much know what the destination of this plane of existence is - the transition from this physical plane to the next, whatever that looks like.

But I've lived a destination-oriented life before, and it's not enjoyable. It's filled with disappointment. For me, the disappointment usually came in the form of missing my destination, but sometimes it came in the form of making my destination, and finding out it wasn't the heaven I'd imagined it to be. 

I couldn't wait to get to high school - I'd be a big kid then, and life would be fun. I got to high school. I wasn't a big kid, parts of high school were fun, but for the most part, it sucked. So I couldn't wait to graduate from high school - I had it set up that I was going out of state for college, and I was really looking forward to that! I'd be free, and be rid of my crappy high school and the crappy town in which I grew up, and I could go have fun as a young adult and be on the road to success - life would be great! Well, I had a lot more fun after high school than I did in high school, but after a while, it began to suck as well. I spent the next 20 years looking for just the right physical situation/location where I could be successful and happy. I didn't find it, but, as I began to get tired of searching, I ended up back in Wisconsin, and very, very slowly began to learn that what I was seeking was inside of me, not outside of me. 

I began to learn that God was inside of me, rather than outside, and life was what I chose it to be, not what happened to me. I had a lot of difficulty with the concept that everything I needed was already here, inside, ready and waiting - not because I couldn't grasp it intellectually, but because I felt so rotten on the inside, I didn't believe it applied to me. There was no way I could be goodness and light, because I was such a useless piece of crap.

But the good news is that, by some miracle, I stuck around on this vile, barren, piece of shit rock floating in an empty, barren universe (now if that's not a depressing thought, I don't know what is!) long enough to begin to see some light. The patient and gentle people in my life led me to believe that I might have it all wrong - that my concept of me and my life was light years away from the Truth of my being.

Somewhere along the line, I learned how to 'be in the moment' - to be right here, right now, rather than in the past (depressing) or in the future (fearful and anxious). And do you know what I found in this moment? Nothing. Absolutely nothing! But I found out that nothing was what I've been looking for, and nothing is better than what I had. There was no past and no future, there was only the here and now, and because there is nothing in this moment, there is room for me to make this moment whatever I want it to be.

And that's what the journey is becoming for me - finding out what I can put into each moment to make life a blessed, peaceful, joyous experience. The destination is the next moment. There are 24 hours in this day, 1,440 minutes, 86,400 seconds. And in those 86,400 seconds, there are an infinite number of moments. So I have, each day, at least 86,400 opportunities to find out what I can give or what I can do or how I can show up to create more heaven on Earth. And that is the Truth. My only limit is the present state of my imagination. That's pretty awesome, and it makes the journey something to look forward to rather than something to be endured.

So, fellow traveler, I wish you well on your journey today, and look forward to the moment when our paths collide again.

Namaste,

Ken