It’s taken me quite a while to work up the nerve to write this article. I can talk a good game about following the right path and transforming myself into a healthier, happier person, but when the smoke clears and the dust settles, when I am left to my own devices, I find myself slipping, as if down a muddy bank of freshly melted snow.
Good, bad, fortunate, unfortunate, beautiful or ugly: all of these terms are labels. They have no solid derivative meaning of their own to cling to other than that which we attach to them according to our own unique biases and belief systems. When I think about “How I’m doing” or someone asks me “How’s it going?” my first reaction is usually to recall events that have happened to me that day or that week.
Many times when we discuss a term like recovery, we can’t help but imagine the act of returning to a ‘normal state’, as if someone who’s in recovery goes back in time to find something they lost, be it innocence, faith, love, health, or anything else which inspires a life worth living. But the problem with this connotation of the term and the illusion it wholeheartedly engenders irks me to say the least.
Sobriety is a hard word for many people to talk about.
I have recently undertaken a project that is taking me much longer to complete than expected. It’s not a writing project, although I’m sure I’ll have plenty to write about once it’s finished. This project concerns pictures. Roughly a thousand, give or take. I haven’t counted. I don’t want to count.
Finding your path in life can mean a lot of things. It can mean discovering your personality, learning more about what you like to do, figuring out what you’re good at or even choosing a religion to follow. But no matter who you are, finding your path isn’t straightforward, and it’s not so easy as checking items off a list. You can’t just say to yourself, “I like doing this but I don’t like doing that,” and expect a path to magically appear before you.