by William C. Moyers
If you’re like me—and my hunch is you are, by your interest in this book—then you reach a point in your recovery where you realize that to stop drinking or taking drugs isn’t the hardest part. We did it countless times, didn’t we? We learn that our real challenge is to stay stopped, because in the end, recovery isn’t merely about living life without getting drunk or stoned. It’s about living life on life’s terms, which can be downright difficult at times.
There are many pathways to overcoming substance use disorders. A well-honed route that works for a lot of us is along the path marked by the Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. It is a program of recovery that begins with Step One, where we acknowledge the omnipotence of alcohol and other drugs, their ability to hijack our brains and steal our souls, and our inability to overcome the problem using our own free will alone. Yet it is only in this first Step that the specific substance—whether it’s alcohol, opiates, marijuana, or another addictive drug—is explicitly called out as part of the problem. The remaining Steps make no mention of the substance itself, because on this pathway to recovery the substance is but a symptom; the addiction is a sickness of not only the body but the mind and spirit as well. And the solution is a new way of life provided by working these remaining Steps. Abstinence is a necessary goal, for sure, but recovery is much more than abstinence—it demands wholesale transformation.
For too long a time I didn’t grasp this fact. And so after every hangover, every consequence, and every regret I vowed to quit, again and again and again. And always I picked up again. Until one day a long time ago when I finally understood that what needed to change was far more than my harmful use of addictive substances. At last I accepted that I needed to change, from the inside out, and I’ve been a work in progress ever since.
That’s why this little book is so important. In recovery, for the newcomer and veteran alike, it is our own thoughts and behaviors that demand ongoing vigilance. Our character flaws, sharp edges, and shortcomings are as toxic and damaging to ourselves and the people in our lives as the substances once were to our bodies. When we stop using, these flaws don’t simply disappear. There they are, to be recognized, confronted, and then neutralized, if not outright removed—and not just by ourselves alone. Our effort requires the help of others, including our Higher Power. This remains true as the days turn to months, the months to years, and the years to our lifetime of commitment to staying well. This is the power of Step Ten, to remind us that we only have to turn to that help one day at a time; when we do, the lifetime will take care of itself.
Even the fleetest marathon runner still must cover the distance one stride at a time. And yet the irritation from the smallest pebble in a shoe can soon fester into a painful blister as debilitating as a heavy stone carried over a shoulder, imperiling one’s ability to finish the race at all. So it is in recovery. Our pebble may be a little white lie, a selfish act nobody else notices, the silent resentment harbored towards a colleague’s success, a minor run-in with the law, or a hurtful rant fueled by fear-ignited anger. These are just a few of the countless ways the shortcomings of our imperfect humanness can show themselves. Sure, we’ve stopped drinking and taking drugs. But to go on living and growing requires that we free ourselves daily of the weight of these imperfections. Even with the success we found in working the first nine Steps, we may discover that now, further along our recovery journey, we’ve again picked up some of the weight we thought we had dropped and left behind. When this happens, “progress, not perfection” has never sounded so good. (“I’m sorry” resonates, too, when called for.) Step Ten reminds us that progress is our goal. By removing the “pebbles” along the way, we can release those weights before they become too great to bear.
Addiction is an illness of isolation, shame, and hopelessness. Its antidote includes what the reader will find in the pages that follow. This book reminds us that our journey requires the diligence of steady effort to “grow in understanding and effectiveness,” as the Big Book puts it, so that we may enjoy our place in “the world of the Spirit.”
Onward we go, together.
William Cope Moyers
Author of Now What? An Insider’s Guide to Addiction and Recovery and Broken: My Story of Addiction and Redemption