All living things have a beginning, birth, and an end, death. The span of time between these two poles is life or living. The human species is a constituting organism, thereby having the potential to create as many variations of life as there are people. This diversity gives rise to many theories on the meaning of life, and what constitutes a successful life. In our youth, the days seem as abundant as the grains of sand on a beach. But just as a storm can overwhelm a beach, undermine the integrity of all that seemed permanent, and give each handful of sand new importance, so too, surviving the challenges that addiction brings to your existence can add new purpose to each day.
As a child, armed with my first penknife, I remember cutting open acorns. What was their secret? I knew there were no gears and wheels that made them work, and I was fascinated by the thought that one hard, little acorn could grow to become one of the many large oaks in our park. Unlike adults, however, who were just large children to me, the oaks were changing continuously, with new leaves, new branches, a new crop of acorns, and colors changing with the seasons. What was the source of their power to grow and change? In an effort to help me understand, my sister planted a lima bean against the side of a glass with wet cotton. After several days of hovering over the glass, I was rewarded by watching that dry bean become “alive.” The surprise I felt at the emergence of that first seedling has not dimmed over the years. There was power within that bean.
My own path to becoming a “large child” was characterized by the accumulation of material things and the training and development of skills to get those things. I clearly remember at age 11, standing on the Belmar Bridge and watching below as a group of happy fishermen on a party boat headed out to sea for the day. I dreamed of the day that I too would have the means to be like one of those men. At age 40, however, captain of my own forty-foot boat, motoring under the same bridge with my family as my crew, I was acutely aware that something was missing. The fulfillment I anticipated, the sense of happiness and accomplishment, and overall feeling of “being OK,” was not there. Having achieved the “things” I’d dreamed of, nothing had changed—or, more accurately, I myself had not changed. It is no coincidence that shortly after, I started using drugs.