RrEeClOaVpEsReY --> RECOVERY, relapse

As I was driving myself to "drunk church in the diner" today, I was thinking about the zoom-out. What do I want the big picture of my life to be, and what goals should I be defining, to help me in my next right steps?

I'm a systems sort. I want to operate from the big picture, with an understanding of the entire machine, not just be told to punch the red button when a widget comes down the line. I'm not one to like hiking tree-to tree. I want to aim for the mountain, orienteer a straight path, not one that is inefficiently zig-zag, or mistakenly in circles.

I remember well, orienteering in the Outward Bound type program I underwent. Being lost in Upper Peninsula Michigan bogs, with basically no quality information, 50-year-old-obsolete topo maps, and only given vague directions where our goal was for the night. Our leaders would take a topo map each morning, point to a place, and tell us that, until we reached that destination, we were not eating, stopping, or camping for the night. May not sound that stressful, but believe me, it was.

The maps were purposefully outdated, and showed roads where none existed, trails where none existed, dry land where now was bog. And, to top it off, the first day, they dumped us all out from the back of an enclosed flatbed pickup freight truck in the darkness of 4 am, and drove off, after an all-night commute to get there. They never told us where we were, only handed us one map per group, and we had to guess where we were, based on our ability to read the topo map and compare it to our actual terrain.

And keep in mind that, from ground zero, one cannot necessarily tell which hill is tallest, whether there is another hill there, or there, behind the ranges in front of them blocking their view at ground level. We often had to hike there, to see, to guestimate our topography, as we conjectured it might be, according to the maps.

Some days, we were so deep into bog forest, that we only knew the sun was setting, but couldn't tell which direction; its location was diffused by the tree canopy and impenetrable foliage above. We couldn't see the hills surrounding us, for the forest. Things are never as easy as they seem, on paper, or in our minds' eyes. Reality bites.

One of the hardest parts of the program was the not knowing. The other hard part was the knowing that our leaders did know, but wouldn't tell. It was a special kind of mind-fuck, as we were desperately thirsty, aching-exhausted, blistered, and starving each day, in that order of importance.

Like being tripped out, but dead-sober, at the same time.

They would watch us make a screw-up that added hours to our hike for the day, and say nothing. It drove me nuts, not to know, but know they knew. And, to be powerless about it.

We could only set provisional goals, hoping we were correct. Once we reached our provisional goal, we prayed to be right, so we could stop, cook water, rest while it cooled, and DRINK. Change the moleskin on our blisters, dry our bog-wetted sodden feet and boots and socks. Gnaw our hardtack until our stomachs quit growling. And then, set up camp, and escape to blissful unconsciousness.

But, if we were wrong, about our provisional location, we were just told so by the leaders, and told to re-start, then and there, goal not accomplished. So we never knew, until we spent the day laboring toward a provisional goal and achieved it, whether it was the end of the day, or a cruel second beginning. Talk about punishment....

Thing is, with a concrete goal, it's much easier to endure, because you focus on an end point. Every minute of agony is focused on achieving that end point, and relief. But when you know that your end point might just be a mind-fuck, it's in itself a mind-fuck, and that SO plays with your head, you can't believe it, unless you've endured it.

When we were deep into bog underbrush, it was like hiking through a privet hedge - so dense our hands were six inches in front of our faces, pulling at the hedge, finding a way to climb through, with backpacks. In this terrain, there is no navigating by hills, or ravines, etc. You trust the compass, and find a tree you can see 50 feet in front of you, estimate how many degrees off your goal direction it is, then head for that tree, and hope your degrees off is accurate, so you don't orienteer your way into a big ol' circle, through the bog branches, with wet, aching feet. And you feel a twisted joy if a spot opens up, such that you can see a tree 100 feet ahead of you, and it's pretty much in the right direction you need to go. A major landmark, for orienteering.

Is any of this metaphor hitting home, with recovery, folks? I am reminded back to those days, now, with how my life goes. Oh, how it reminds me.

OK, let's reset to the beginning of our tale, today.

That it's about time for me to take a disciplined look at what I'm doing, and think about some goals. I let things swim around conceptually in my head a lot of times, and sort of sleaze past actually defining important things. But I need to find myself some landmarks, for orienteering - can't just wander aimlessly. Whatever landmarks I can reliably use to orienteer, the bigger and farther, the better.

I remember the horror some days, of being chosen to be the orienteer-er of the day. Because, if you screwed up and led the group in circles, by tiny mis-calculations off to one side each time, too many times, you were not well received. And, it happened, more times than I want to remember.

Recovery is a lot like this, with relapse built in, such that we land back a few spaces - tired, and fed-up, and wanting to vomit expletives at life on life's terms. Sit down, and give up. Wail in self-pity.

But we all do it. Relapse, on whatever scale - whether it's full-blown going out, or smaller things like stinkin' thinkin' oozing back into our habits - is inherent to recovery. I doubt anybody has a straight path, and doesn't circle sometimes.

But there are things we can do, to orienteer better, to do our part. Having a sponsor, and using them appropriately, is like a compass. Sticking with winners, and learning their lessons, is like choosing tall, unique trees for orienteering - easier to keep in sight, to get to the next micro-goal in our path. And keeping in mind that some days, our provisional goals will prove to be mirages, that, once we get there, we may be asked to start all over, even in our state of exhaustion. Yes, mind-fucks are inherent to recovery, and we must accept this, and be bolstered to get past them with our tools.

These things I keep in mind, to stay the course. The wilderness ain't easy, but you can get through it. I did it once, years ago, in a physical sense. This time it's a different iteration, but the same principles apply.

And now, I'm off to think more in depth about my particular goals. Perhaps I will write about them later, but this is long enough, already.

-The Traveler