National Recovery Month and 2 Ways to Participate
It’s been an insane two weeks, but I’m back today with some big news. Read along.
Welcome to National Recovery Month
It’s September, which means it’s National Recovery Month, a month the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration uses to raise awareness around issues of recovery and to celebrate those working through their own sobriety. And if you’ve read my books, you know I have a vested interest in National Recovery Month. In fact, this month marks my 7-year anniversary of being un-drunk.
I’m a word nerd, and so I love the word recovery. It carries the connotation of reclaiming, of finding, of taking something back. In addiction circles (wether to booze, sex, shopping, or social media), we use the term as a sort of shorthand. Before the addiction, we were our truest selves, and we aim to recover what’s been lost to addiction.
In my latest book, The Book of Waking Up, I examine recovery as a mode of waking from our addictions (or the attachments in our lives) and waking to the adoration of something bigger—the Divine Love. What do I mean? I wrote:
Over the years, theologians, priests, pastors, and spiritual directors have preached, written, and opined about what constitutes a disordered attachment, an [affection] we place over our desire for divine [afection]. I might sum up much of that opinion this way: when we enter into longterm relationships with any coping mechanism in an attempt to silence… pain or to numb ourselves to it… we’re nursing an affection for lesser loves. We’re adoring the creation instead of the Creator.
Addiction: What is it but misplaced adoration.
Recovery, as I see it, is not simply about detaching yourself from some substance. It’s about waking to the realization that you adore something—booze, boobs, the roulette wheel—that will never adore you in return. It’s about learning to adore something bigger, something Divine, something salvific.
This month, I’m inviting you to join me in celebrating National Recovery Month (perhaps, National Adoration Month). Identify that coping mechanism that’s crept into your life. See the ways you elevate it, adore it, think it will numb your pain. Note how hollow it is, how potentially destructive, how pain-inducing. Then, grab a copy of The Book of Waking Up, Coming Clean, or any other great recovery book, and learn how to find lasting sobriety that’s rooted in something more Divine.
Are you tired of disordered attachment? Follow along.
Two Quick Things You Can do to Kick Off National Recovery Month:
(1) Pick up a copy of The Book of Waking Up for you and a friend;
(2) Shoot me an email letting me know your thought about addiction as misplaced adoration.
If you want to invite a friend to participate please share this piece with a friend or 10 (change the email address in the form). Ask them to subscribe and follow along this September. Start a discussion with them about recovery (and yes, we’ll return to recovery from social media this month). See what happens.
The Secret to Joy
Yesterday, I wrote how abstaining from the news throughout the month of January has made my soul lighter, maybe even full of joy. Joy—don’t we need more of it these days? But in the days that feel so divided and dark, how do we find it?
Today’s thought is simple, and it’s wrapped up in a quote by Saint John of the Cross, a sixteenth-century Spanish friar. He writes, "The soul of the one who serves God always swims in joy, always keeps holiday, and is always in the mood for singing."
If you believe St. John of the Cross, the secret to joy is serving something bigger than (a) ourselves, (b) the twenty-four-hour news cycle, (c) our opinions about the rotting world turning political back handsprings around us. The secret to joy is found in loving, serving, and praising something more eternal.
***WAKE UP WITH ME***
THE BOOK OF WAKING UP —a book on addiction, attachment, and the Divine Love—launched TUESDAY so order a copy or ten at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookish (my favorite indie bookseller). Then, forward this post to a friend and ask them to read along.
Waking Leads to Waking
It is unwise to walk with an eye always to the sky, always looking for that holy escape hatch that pulls us to the immortal plane. Still, to keep the ears tuned to the things of earth—the breaking news and the commodification of anxiety—sets the human brain on fire. At least, it does mine.
Throughout this Dry January, I’ve cut out the news (please don’t pull me into the impeachment spin cycle until February). I’ve avoided the opinion snipers on Twitter. I’ve turned off my Medium notifications. I’ve unfollowed people on Instagram who twist it into something political. (I go there for beauty, not opinion.) This is not to say I’ve entered into anything like silence. I’ve not. But I have silenced the spitfire incivility of our current cultural moment.
In this piece of quiet, I’ve woken to a few truths. These are among those truths:
The world moves on, even without my anxiety over the crisis du jour;
My heart rate is demonstrably slower, three beats a minute according to my Fitbit;
Uninterrupted by the breaking news of broken political systems, I’m more focused;
There is an underground conversation beginning to stir among the people, one about searching for joy;
This underground conversation is spoken in whispers, and I’ve heard those whispers only since silencing the churn of news;
Though I’ve not found absolute silence (who would want it?), I’ve found something like an inner-quiet;
The world is a beautiful place if we keep the Powers from outshining the sun.
In The Book of Waking Up I wrote, “Waking gives way to waking, which gives way to waking, which gives way to waking.” In this Dry January, I’ve found this truth again. In your own practice, have you woken to new truths?
***WAKE UP WITH ME***
THE BOOK OF WAKING UP —a book on addiction, attachment, and the Divine Love—launched TUESDAY so order a copy or ten at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookish (my favorite indie bookseller). Then, forward this post to a friend and ask them to read along.
A Dry January Update
In the new decade, I offered a sort of challenge: participate in Dry January with me, a month of laying off your particularly addiction, vice, bad habit, or coping mechanism of choice. Some of you might have chosen to lay off the booze or porn or shopping. For those of us who might not struggle with those particular behaviors (or for those of us who’ve struggled so hard in the past that we gave them up forever), we might have chosen to abstain from difference vices. What was my particular Dry January commitment?
Give up the news.
It’s a tricky abstinence, going cold turkey off the stream of information that animates so much of our society. I deleted the News app from my phone. I’ve avoided scrolling the Twitter feed for the hottest take on the most recent What-The-Hell? event. I’ve white-knuckled through my cravings for The Daily, the New York Times daily news podcast. Why?
The News: What is it but an inducement for anxiety these days? What is it but a roiling, angsty cauldron of angry opinion? What is it but corporate-sponsored argument, a divisive device of control, an inducement to pull out your pitchforks and string up your less-enlightened neighbor? And even though I understand these very real truths, what am I but an avid consumer of all that anxiety and anger?
In the days leading up to the new decade, I sensed my anxiety and anger ratcheting up each time I turned to the news. Belly full of opinions, I gave sideways glances at my neighbors who watched certain news networks. I grew more suspicious of the political pundits (particularly those of faith) who supported particular political candidates and grew even more suspicious of the American people who seemed to love those particular pundits. I teetered on the verge of hating my American sister and loathing my American brother. And so, I quit.
I’ve stuck with my personal Dry January challenge, and it’s cleared my mind. In just sixteen days, my skepticism has waned, and it’s allowed me to see the neighbor behind the talking head. It’s increased my capacity for compassion, even if I’ve not put it into action perfectly. The anxiety of a world falling apart doesn’t sit on my chest like a gorilla escaped from the zoo. My Dry January commitment has kept me off my phone more, too—an added bonus.
If you’re participating in your own Dry January, take some time today to examine the differences it’s made in your daily life. If you’re not participating, it’s not too late to start, though you might consider extending the exercise by a couple of weeks. But whether you’re participating or not, let’s keep walking into this new decade with eyes wide open. Let’s keep moving into something like inner sobriety. (How do we keep waking to sobriety? Read below the asterisks.)
***THE BOOK IS HERE! ORDER AND FORWARD***
THE BOOK OF WAKING UP —a book on addiction, attachment, and the Divine Love—launched TUESDAY so order a copy or ten at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookish (my favorite indie bookseller). Then, forward this post to a friend and ask them to read along.
What is the Shape of Your Waking (This is Not a Metaphor)
What is the shape of your waking, your morning? Do you roll out of bed after slapping the snooze button three times, only six hours of rest under your belt? Do you reach for the coffee to wake from perpetual sleep deprivation? Do you sit in your chair, static as a log, waiting till the caffeine kicks in so you can slog through another day? Do you scroll endlessly on your phone, using the blue light to wake you?
What is the shape of your waking, your morning?
It’s a simple question, one I’m asking you to examine today because your morning sets so much of the tone of your day. I’m convinced of it. So, grab a pen and paper, and write a thumbnail sketch of your average morning. Then ask yourself, Does my morning set me up to live awake throughout the rest of the day?
Come back tomorrow, as we consider how waking leads to waking.
***THE BOOK IS HERE! ORDER AND FORWARD***
THE BOOK OF WAKING UP —a book on addiction, attachment, and the Divine Love—launched TUESDAY so order a copy or ten at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookish (my favorite indie bookseller). Then, forward this post to a friend and ask them to read along.
Waking: Know Your Coping Mechanisms
In a 1995 edition of “The Orange County Register,” a professor at McMasters University in Ontario described famed physicist Albert Einstein’s approach to solving an apocalyptic hypothetical: “When Einstein was asked how he would save the world in one hour, he said he’d spend 55 minutes defining the problem and five minutes solving it….”
Read MoreWaking: Knowing Your Shadows (Week 2)
Know thyself—it’s necessary to live a waking life. For the last few days, we’ve seen how knowing our values, gifts, and the things that bring us joy lead us to the light. This kind of knowing, though, is only one half of the equation. Our shadows—they offer a fuller, more complex view of the self.
Read MoreWaking: Living Into the Light (Week 2)
I’ve continued my exploration of the timeless maxim on the temple of Delphi—Know Thyself, and yesterday, I turned back to the first three “Know Thyself” lists I asked you to create. (Those lists: your values, your skills, and the things that bring you joy.) But knowing yourself, formulating these lists—what’s the point?
Read MoreWaking: Know Your Joy (Week 2)
I spoke with a world-class photographer yesterday, a good man with a good eye and a better heart. Society is like a camera, he said, and these days, our lens is fixed on the negative, the shadow, the pain. He offered the obvious example—the political vitriol of the day. He mentioned the angry undercurrent of the 24-hour news cycle.
Read MoreWaking, Week 2: Know Thyself
“Know thyself”—it’s a Greek maxim, one which was inscribed on the Temple of Apollo at Delphi. It’s a maxim that appears with regularity in books written by modern-day self-help gurus, executive coaches, and counselors. It’s used with such regularity that some might consider it cliche…
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