If happiness lies in the ability to enjoy less, then being an addict is the precise opposite of such a condition. So when we get better, we develop the ability to enjoy less. The more we simplify, the greater the pleasure in simple things.
I used to need at least five OC 80s, a bag of heroin, a pile of coke, two packs of butts, greasy food, sex, tv, and countless other distractions of the lowest, most degenerate quality just to feel moderately okay and make it through the day. That is pathetic. It is sin. It is the opposite of physical, emotional and spiritual health. It is the opposite of everything that is good. It is the opposite of power. It is the opposite of God.
When we get better, we begin to find pleasure in less. We lower the bar, but in a good way. After years of removing drugs and distraction and selfish behavior, we begin to enjoy simple pleasures that we once took for granted – all of those things we moaned about in a fit of entitlement. Active addicts and alcoholics are like spoiled children, throwing tantrums when they can’t eat candy and play video games all day long.
I’ve been inundated lately with all sorts of nonsense about how becoming an addict is beyond our control. Sure addiction is a malady, but it is a self-created one and it is just one of many manifestations of an underlying spiritual sickness and lack of purpose or meaning. Acting like a needy victim that complains incessantly is not an illness beyond our control. It is what we do to desperately maintain our addiction and our warped construction of self after we’ve turned ourselves into addicts. Do not fall for the harmful and destructive lie that we wake up one day and suddenly become addicts or that we catch it in the air. We consciously and purposely mutate ourselves into addicts and alcoholics because we love drugs and alcohol.
Getting better is not just the process of growing up into adults who understand that life on Earth doesn’t involve 24/7 euphoria and does involve work, but also one of removal and simplification. By removing things, we come to appreciate them more. Less becomes more. I find myself experiencing considerable pleasure from almost nothing: a glass of cold water on a hot day, a hot shower on a cold day, hanging out in a coffee shop with my beautiful bride, watching my kids’ crazy new dance moves, seeing them all asleep in bed, lying down after a long day, looking at the yard after landscaping or a kitchen or bathroom after renovating it by myself, swimming in the ocean, closing my eyes and breathing, sitting down, playing music, playing tennis, the feeling after working out or a warm breeze on my face.
A long time ago, I sat down in an old beach chair while my son played with sand and a great calm washed over me. I can’t explain it with any specificity or eloquence other than to say that I felt completely happy in that moment. Not a single thought or worry poisoned my mind. Not a shred of discontent could I find anywhere within. Sure it was only momentary, but I would never be able to bask in those simplest of things as an active addict. All addicts do is want, want, want and need, need, need. Not only is that a miserable way to move through life and navigate this world, but is also acts as a repellent to others. “Rather unbecoming” as my old man used to say with his jaw locked up good and tight.
To enjoy less, we must never stop getting better. Go write down all the ways you behave as an addict and the way you were as an addict, and do the exact opposite, everyday, for the rest of your life. Nobody’s a saint, so all we have to do is our best. But that is how we get better… by acting like a normal person and developing the ability to enjoy less.