There is no such place as Easy Street, at least not really.
There’s no easy way to make the world go around and there’s no way to gain momentum without effort.
I’m sure that by now, everyone knows this. Yet, i think that everyone forgets this from time to time.
I have taken certain ideas into consideration, such as Newton’s first law of motion.
This is the law that says an object at rest will remain at rest and an object in motion will remain in motion and at the same velocity unless altered by an outside force.
But do you know what I say?
I say that this is life.
Whether I am at rest or in motion, I can see how life alters our stillness or momentum. I can see why my sanity can be challenged. At times, it’s understandable to see when I am weak or questioned and challenged; so I can understand why my thoughts turn against me or become tragic.
I can see the world around me.
I can hear the news, which is never too promising to begin with. I see the fires that need to be put out. I see the homeless. I see the fights. I see the sick and the suffering and yes, I see the so-called righteous and how they act behind closed doors. I see the judgments that come from people who could never pass their own test to begin with – yet, somehow, we listen to these so-called speakers of the house as if their word is gospel.
I can feel the strain and the soreness in my bones. I can also feel my breath change when I am tired. I know what the word frustration means and I certainly can understand what it seems like when everything goes in an unfavorable way; as if I’ve run a thousand miles and gone nowhere fast.
I’ve seen this side of life. I’ve seen my fair share of regrets and shame.
I know what it’s like to watch the clock, only to have it seem as if the day is taking forever. I also know why they say a watched pot never boils.
But this is untrue.
A watched pot still boils.
The pot boils, provided there’s heat and the elements are appropriate.
It’s just a matter of time.
I know that change takes time and that in most cases, it’s hard to have patience because we always want what we want. And when do we want it?
The answer is NOW!
Once more, change takes time. Even when it seems as if we don’t have any time. Still, we want the world and we want it now.
Specifically, transformational change takes time.
This takes work. This takes commitment and accountability. This means we have to be consistent and persistent, even if the pace is slow or if our efforts seem unsuccessful; as if they are failing or if we are not strong enough; instead of trying to advance quicker, it’s better to perfect our levels as they are.
It’s better that we build our personal definition in stages, so that as long as we improve incrementally, even if this is only slow and steadily, a day will come when we turn around and see how far we’ve moved.
Trust me, the view is spectacular.
Time adds up.
Minutes become hours and days become weeks; however, if we remain accountable and committed to a steady change; whether this is diet and exercise or if our growth is professionally and educationally, or even if our desired changes are somewhat simple and personal; whereas our commitment to improve ourselves is steady in any capacity, so long as we move steadily, behold the fact that at least we are moving.
If we see ourselves as an object at rest or moving at a certain velocity and in a certain direction; at least now, we have been altered by another source. We have been saved by a moment of awareness or by some catalyst that brought on the preparation to do what needs to be done.
We have been inspired.
We have decided to move and make our way. Whether the effects are immediate or the gratification is instant or not; at least we chose to make a change.
At least we dared. At least we showed the bravery to admit to ourselves that a change needed to take place and at least now, whether slowly or quickly, we did something.
We took a stand. We allowed ourselves to be the unbalanced force that altered our direction or fate – and now, we can move in any direction we choose.
The choice is ours.
When they say a watched pot never boils, I can understand why.
I can understand being in a predicament or having to stay somewhere that I don’t want to be. Or worse, I can relate to having to wait for some kind of news; whether it’s good or bad or promising or defeating, I know what it means to have to wait.
I understand why the watched pot never seems to boil. Hence, when we talk about change or when we experience the strain it takes to gain muscle or lose weight; or if we are talking about the strength it takes to “walk away” from someone, someplace or something; or if we want better for ourselves and the time just moves too slowly, I get it.
It’s hard to see progress. It’s hard to see the gains or the improvements when you’re in the middle of so many things. It’s hard to gauge our success sometimes. When it’s hard to see the benefits, then it’s hard to feel the rewards which makes it easier to quit.
I can remember seeing a quote online that said, “A year from now, you will have wished that you started today.”
I agree.
I can see where this has been a factor in my life. I can see where my judgment has pushed me off-balance or off-center. Then my judgment was off the meter because my thoughts led me astray.
I can see where my doubt made it hard for me to take another step; and more, I can see the times when all I had was my commitment and nothing else.
I can see where there were points and breaks in the clouds and little signs of growth appeared. I can see where tiny successes began to accumulate. While only improving on a small percentage can be tough, the idea of being consistent and persistent allows for an accumulation of events.
I suppose what I’m trying to say here is this: We grow and improve much faster than we think.
I have met with people who were down and out and at their worst. They were trying to put distance between them and a terrible substance.
“I only have a few days clean,” they told me.
This hits me in the heart.
I know because I’ve been there.
Malcolm X was once quoted, “Don’t be in a hurry to condemn a person because he doesn’t do what you do or think as you think or as fast. There was a time when you didn’t know what you know today.”
I can understand this. I can understand what it’s like to start from scratch or be at ground zero. I’ve had to stand in the aftermath of my own self-destruction.
I know what it’s like to count the days of my so-called rebuild.
So?
Back when I was working as a specialist and a director in a rehabilitation center, I would listen to a person claim this with a sound of shame to their voice.
“I only have a few days clean.”
Meanwhile, there was a time when they couldn’t go a few minutes.
Let alone, a few hours, which is now a few days.
(See how miracles begin?)
The fact remains that we all have to start somewhere.
Whether the change is with something huge and heavy or if we are coming back from a personal catastrophe; the bottom line is that at least we had what it takes to come back.
At least we decided to alter ourselves. Rather than be the object at rest or in motion, we made a choice to take a stand.
We decided to make a change and alter our direction. Or, essentially, this means that we made a choice that states from here on in, we are going to save our own life on a daily basis.
I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what your addictions might be (or not) and I don’t care where you sit on an organizational chart. I don’t care about the size of your bank account or where you live.
The kind of car you drive is irrelevant to this because life is still life and without accountability, without being persistent and consistent, and without a daily commitment to live your best possible life and reach your best potential; and lastly, without the drive and desire to be you at your best capacity, then you run the risk of degrading yourself on a daily basis.
Without effort, you run the risk of missing the greatest victories. You risk losing the moments where you turn around and realize the distance between the person you are now and the person you were back then.
Instead, without effort or without being consistent and persistent on being your best, you run the risk of waking up one day and wondering where your life went . . .
I found an old poem that I would like to share here. I will ask that you refrain from judgment and while my drug use was a long time ago; my life in recovery is still a part of my journey.
Before introducing this to you, I will say that my lifelong search has always been the same. I’ve always wanted to find that center. I’ve always wanted to find that safe place or that spot in the sun (or in the shade when I need it) and to me, I’ve always wanted to find that balance to counteract the imbalances in my life.
I don’t want pain. I don’t want the lonesomeness that comes sometimes. I don’t want the anxiety or depression that is also part of my life. I certainly don’t want the five fingers of rejective thinking which, again, is blame, shame, guilt, fault and regret. Lastly, I don’t want these to ball up as a fist anymore – to beat me up when I’m feeling down and out.
I’ve always been in search of something to heal me or protect me. I want something to keep me safe and alive. I need a protector to help me when the bullies come out or the shame comes back.
I’ve always wanted something . . .
Do you know what I mean?
I want something to act as my security blanket; or perhaps it would be tougher and cooler of me to call this my shield. But no, I’m here to explain this is what it is – I am neither tough nor strong. But instead, I’d rather expose this from a vulnerable standpoint. Yes, I am a searcher and I always have been.
My journey is no different from back then. The only difference is I have learned to search in different categories. I’ve learned to find freedom in long-term strategies instead of quick fixes and immediate models of instant gratification.
My highs are longer now and my crashes are not so degrading. Yet, the search for freedom is still constant.
I wrote this:
I came through the shadow of amazing images,
soaked with moisture, but laying still
. . . and waiting.
She dives at me, angry, like a hawk at its prey
And me, I forfeit my elements of bravery
Though in all fairness, I know I’m no feast
I’m nothing more than a small meal.
I am a piece of meat, a statistic
And she is the streets,
where I find myself.
She is the tainted bosom, poisonous milk,
guilty as charged.
This is what burns pinholes into flesh
and portholes into veins that open us up
but deny us our passage.
Steve asked:
Have you seen the other side of The Hudson lately?
“No,” I say.
But two bags ago,
I thought I saw a little dog running across Bowery
Turns out it was only a rat
carrying food back to its hole.
“A hole”
A small dark place where life gives way
and sells itself short
Like we do –
one dose at a time.
I was aware of these things and yet
so detached.
Or should I say
uninvolved –
Steve withered to the ground
like a leaf, losing to the autumn
Ever see the inside of your mind, he asked?
I could go, I thought.
I could get away, right now.
I could take off, this second.
and just like that,
I’d be free.
But instead, Steve and I euthanized the clock
because the seconds ticked too slowly.
We sat there,
watching minutes die
and powder dissolve into spoons –
to kill the strength of us two men
I guess there are different kinds of freedom.
Some are free.
And some keep you trapped
like me ~
I am nothing like this now.
No, I am grown and strong and 32 years later, the crazy thing is that I am a person in long-term recovery. I am a coach. I am a mental health advocate. I have professional credentials.
I have friends. I have people who I love and fortunately, I have the right people who love me back. Without this, I don’t know if I would have anything.
I have my share of California dreams and moments of where I’d like to get away, south, like Baja Del Sur.
I am a person in business. I am an expert at my craft and a presenter. However, if it’s true that an item at rest only remains at rest or an item at motion remains in motion and at the same velocity unless moved by an unbalanced force, then I am proof (the same as you are) that being consistent and persistent will pay us more than we could ever imagine.
I remember my first speech at a high school. I was introduced to a town.
I was petrified. Absolutely terrified.
Instead of quitting, I blew up.
I showed them everything. I gave this all that I had. For the first time, I saw the value of who I’ve become. I saw the worth behind my work and because I chose to do this and work at my craft, my worth is invaluable and unmatchable.
Finally.
I remember the intimidation I felt before giving my first presentation to one of the largest corporations of its kind. We are talking Fortune 50 in size. $65 billion in worth and with more than 65,000 employees around the globe, I was afraid.
Maybe I wasn’t ready.
Maybe they would see me as I used to see myself. But again, I gave them everything.
I showed them everything I needed to show them.
The meeting ended.
There were people watching me on a video screen because, at the time, the world turned to a remote setting and the pandemic had divided us all.
These were people from across the country. I remember the overwhelming feedback and people commenting on the online chat feature. “We need this!” which meant they wanted more of what i had to offer. Or, more accurately, it was said that “We need Ben!”
And that’s me.
After the show, I excused myself from the room.
I went off into one of the unused phone rooms for some privacy.
I closed the door and I wept like a baby because I saw it. I saw what I did. I saw the changes. I saw the benefits of my effort.
I saw that yes, I pulled off my trick. The curtain went up and when it was time for me to perform, I was able to say “Ta-Da!” To me, this was one of the most amazing feats of my life.
No drug or brand of heroin could ever give me a fix like this.
No needle could ever cure the pain it took to get me to where I am.
No high could ever compare to the high I get from you.
Believe me on this –
because I’d have nothing left without it . . .
The Written Addiction 