How to Heal, Together

unsplash-image-pLoMDKtl-JY.jpg

“The opposite of addiction isn’t sobriety. It’s connection.”

-Johann Hari

I am in recovery and have been sober for some time now. In the process of my recovery, I’ve heard Johann Hari’s quote numerous times but I hadn’t felt the greater truth behind his words until my ability to connect with other humans was drastically limited by the Coronavirus pandemic. Like many who struggle with addiction, I tend toward isolation, yet at the same time am deathly afraid of being alone. Yes, I have friends, family, relationships, and even had a marriage at one point, but I never allowed anyone to get truly close to me or allowed myself to be vulnerable with others. Alcohol and drugs were my armor, my shield and my sword that allowed me to be the self-perceived lone warrior. But, instead, the armor was slowly killing me, keeping me shut off from the one thing that could truly change my life — connection with others.

Surrender as An Act of Self-Care

When I was finally ready to surrender, the program of Alcoholics Anonymous was my bridge back to life — a foundation and framework through which I could be a sober man, one day at a time. And I love AA, deeply. Yet, something was still missing. Connection is a core tenet in AA, through sponsorship, fellowship, and helping others who are struggling, but I couldn’t fully engage in that connection when I first came in. After numbing my thoughts and emotions for so long and living a lie for years, I had no connection with myself. Who was I? What did I want or need from this life? And, more importantly, where was I going to find the answers? I started to remember times from my childhood, spent outside, where I felt comfortable in my skin, even happy. What’s more, these memories sparked a realization that in the wonder and beauty of nature, I feel inspired, at ease. This felt aligned. But how to go about this path? I needed guidance.

Growing up, I was fortunate to have parents who instilled an appreciation and love of the outdoors in me — through trips to different national parks on nearly every family vacation. I reveled in the natural beauty of forests and vistas that took my breath away. I explored trails and rivers. This was a joyful time. But, as an adult in my late 30s, ravaged by addiction, materialism, and the modern societal ideas of “success,” I didn’t know how to rekindle my connection to the natural world. Fortunately, to quote Lao Tzu, “when the student is ready, the teacher will appear.”

Connecting in Nature

My teacher appeared in the form of the founder of a company called Adventure Recovery (AR), whose mission is to help people navigate the “internal and external wilderness.” After landing in yet another sober living program, floundering for footholds and answers, I could have easily ignored or refused the outing my house was planning to attend with AR. But seemingly small decisions can absolutely have the biggest of impacts. A short hike led by my future mentor was all I needed to generate the spark, to light that little flame inside me to start to realize that this could be an answer — a way out of the darkness. Over the next year, through the framework of learning and progressing in challenging and exhilarating outdoor experiences (whitewater kayaking, rock climbing, etc.) I learned what it meant to be vulnerable, what it meant to be a beginner (and be ok with that). In addition, I learned what it meant to fail, and what it meant to succeed. I learned how the rhythms and forces in nature mirror those in us as humans. I learned there are many, many forces in the natural world that are a great deal more powerful than me, but that I don’t have to fear those forces if I learn how to navigate them. Perhaps most importantly, however, I learned that all of this insight and self-awareness would not have been possible without a teacher to guide me, to challenge me, to reflect back to me, and at times to simply walk alongside me. The true connection nourished my spirit and offered me a sense of safety and vitality. I felt I’d come home, to myself and others.

Mentorship as a Path to Connection

The global pandemic has exacerbated the struggles in all of us. This is especially true for those of us who struggle with mental health and substance abuse disorder. Uncertainty, isolation, and idle time are the devil’s cocktail when it comes to addiction. So often, we suffer in silence, trying to muscle through. But, there is hope and there is help. Whether it is an online 12-step meeting, or an organization like AR, or a therapist, reaching out to another person is vital to stop the downward spiral in which many of us find ourselves. And I truly believe that when a student is ready a teacher will appear. However, the student has to know they need the teacher and do what is necessary to grab hold. In my experience, for every step I took toward my mentor he took two steps toward me, and by extension, we took three huge steps together toward my recovery. The offering of unconditional love, support, and acceptance provided a safe space within which I could simply be. In the trees, by the fire, under the stars at night, we can all just be. It’s here that I truly started to feel a sense of self. It’s here that I started to explore my own capacity and truly feel a part of. It is here, in nature, that we can truly feel the sunlight of the spirit. The world is full of teachers, and many of them are not human. Rivers, forests, mountains, trees — they are the ancient teachers with keys to locked parts inside of us all. And when we allow a teacher to lead the way, we learn how to navigate the internal and external wilderness with skillfulness and ease. We need the guidance of someone who walks the path to help us find which specific key fits our specific lock. And I’m deeply grateful, every day, that I became willing to accept true connection.

—Josh Flaherty, MSW, AR Guide & Executive Director of Adventure Recovery, originally published on medium

Image courtesy via Nathan Dumlao Unsplash