The Lives of Others

From yesterday:  

We simply cannot live through someone else and so this version of life will never provide the meaning we crave.  We need an alternative.  We need something else to dedicate ourselves to that adds meaning back into our lives in the midst of all of the chaos.  

That meaning, I think, comes from a conscious, intentional dedication to process.

Discovering meaning in (or for) our lives pushes back chaos, crisis, and the all-encompassing sense of unmanageability.  "Meaning," as a concept, is not a thing we find when we know the right place to look.  It is the sum of various seemingly disparate life parts that we cobble together.  I am obviously not an expert at this and so I'm not prepared to unpack the exact ways in which someone finds meaning in life, but I will point to a few of these "life parts" that I know help.  

* Connection to God
* Community
* Self-awareness
* Rituals or habits (from spiritual disciplines to exercise, we benefit from regularity)
* Work 

Process falls under nearly any of these categories because, as I wrote earlier, we're all in process of becoming a person who can: connect with his or her creator, participate in community, examine self, maintain habits, and dedicate ourselves to whatever our work is.  

More tomorrow.

Is It worth It? Part II

For Part I Click Here.  It was posted on January 22.

You may commit yourself to your own recovery journey and still not see your loved one enter long-term recovery.  You may not receive that promotion.  You may not save your marriage.  

Does this mean it isn't worth it? 

It depends on whether or not we can see the value in dedicating ourselves to a process.  If we can detach (slightly) from our immediate circumstances and the anxiety of trying to fix a loved one (or whatever the case may be), we may recognize we have our own issues that need addressing.  When we over function for someone else, we tend to under function for ourselves.  In this way, we may see the value in entering recovery to reclaim what we have learned to overlook.  If we look at it that way, we may convince ourselves there is some other outcome worth pursuing.  It's a mental trick (a good one).

The larger question, though, is one of meaning.  Attempting to live someone else's life for them is always going to rob us of our sense of meaning and purpose because we will fail.  We simply cannot live through someone else and so this version of life will never provide the meaning we crave.  We need an alternative.  We need something else to dedicate ourselves to that adds meaning back into our lives in the midst of all of the chaos.  

That meaning, I think, comes from a conscious, intentional dedication to process.

Expanding our Focus: Part I

Every day (I think?) I have moments of anger, and moments of sadness.  Every day I'm confronted with various choices and possibilities.  Every day I encounter conflict of some kind.  Every day I encounter something that stirs up irritation and impatience.  

Each of these things has the capacity to throw me off kilter, out of balance, and away from my calling to live as a reflection of God.  I'm not blame-shifting here, I'm responsible for being thrown off kilter,  but there are also things that happen outside of my control that contribute to that possibility.  

I suspect the same is true for you.  

At home, there are trials and frustrations.  There is trauma.  There is grief.  There is resentment.  At work, we have employees that undermine our authority, or coworkers who don't respect us, or who try to make us look bad so that they can get ahead.  In our larger community, there are disappointments and petty arguments and factions.  Look, we just aren't always the best version of ourselves and that creates problems.  

We do not need to be in chaos or crisis in order to dedicate ourselves to the ongoing process of recovery.  If we're not dedicated to this process, then we may be dedicated to the process of complacency and backsliding.  And if we're dedicated to complacency then our home lives, work lives, community lives, and whatever other lives we may have are unlikely to get any better for us.  

We'll be living out of our most basic instincts.  And those rarely transform us into the best possible version of ourselves.  

So, as you read the remaining days, ask yourself what process you are currently dedicated to.  Be willing to question whether or not it is effective.  Be willing to consider that a greater level of intentionality may open up the possibilities you need to break the cycle you are currently in.  

On the other hand, if you're happy (and you know it), then clap your hands!  :-)

Results are not Guaranteed

When it comes to recovery, no result is guaranteed.  We can only suggest a path with the understanding that this path has the capacity to create opportunities.  It does not (and cannot) guarantee a certain solution.

We talk about dedicating ourselves to process because we cannot dedicate ourselves to results.  Results are out of our control, though some results may not be possible without a dedicated process.  In other words, a dedicated process may create the possibility of a specific, desired result without guaranteeing it.  

To be far simpler, we might say that there are good strategies and bad strategies.  Good strategies create space for possibilities.  Bad ones, well, make things worse.

Because of this, we must carry with us a sense of acceptance as we journey.  An ideal approach to our process may not create the ideal end.  If we dedicate ourselves to the process, though, hope, healing, and joy become possibilities when they otherwise would not be.   

Is it worth it?

Should we only pursue a certain course of action in life if we feel that our desired end is likely (or probable)?  

It takes profound courage to dedicate yourself to a totally unpredictable pursuit.  In recovery, the only real promise we offer is, "This will be good for you."  But, again, we run into a problem.  In what sense will it be good?  

If you loved someone dealing with a substance use disorder, as is the case with our family from earlier in the month, you may regain a certain quality of life.  You may gain a bit of peace as you learn to establish boundaries that protect you and your home.  You may be comforted by the knowledge that you're doing the best you can.  You may see modest improvements in how you interact with others or how they interact with you.  

Yet, you may not see your loved one enter long-term recovery.