Commitment

I remember when my wife and I were fighting, and I mean fighting, about which direction we should be going in our healing. We had been physically separated for 3 months, legally separated for two. We were both seeing our own counselors, I was in two different SA fellowships here on Vancouver Island. I was seeing traction, movement. I understood sobriety and that was my goal. I was sick of being an addict, and I wanted to change.

But I wanted to be in control.

So my wife and I fought about how we should be doing this. And it got ugly. I thought she was trying to control my life. She thought I didn't want to do what was needed to save our marriage.

After one of our SA meetings, I was talking with a mentor of mine, someone who had been in the fight for sobriety for well over a decade and had seen and experienced his fair share of ups and rock bottoms. I was venting at him, cursing how my wife was being unreasonable, how she was trying to control what couldn't be controlled, how unfair it all was. He looked at me, a little amused, a little frustrated. He remembered having these exact same feelings, venting these exact same emotions. Then he said, "Look Lawrence, honestly, it doesn't matter: SA, SAA, SLAA, Pure Desire, whatever. In my experience, you have to commit, fully and completely. Don't half ass it, jump in and do whatever whichever group, program, or organization asks you to do. Don't question every step, just commit. And you can't do everything from every group: you'll never get traction anywhere. Pick one and commit to it, wholly and fully."

That was the wisest and best thing he could have told me. It took me time to realize that my wife didn't want to control my life, she just wanted my best effort and seeing if there was even the slightest possibility of salvaging our marriage. I didn't understand that her insistence on choosing the 'nuclear' option was how desperate she was to at least try, even though I didn't believe that I merited such effort. I should have clued in then that she still loved me, even in the midst of her grief, rage, and pain.

So we committed - I committed - to Pure Desire's program and counselling, and it was so incredibly difficult. But so much of what I know now, what I share with you, has come out of completely and fully committing to the process.

I did everything I was asked to: homework every day, 15 minutes, check. Making my calls, repeatedly, multiple times a day, in order to fight for my sobriety. And slowly, ever so slowly, I began to change. Dr. Ted often challenged me: quit smoking, be present, engage in my feelings, listen and sympathize and empathize with my wife.

I think quitting smoking was easier than learning to 'speak' emotions.

Commitment is choosing sobriety every moment of every day. When temptations come, and they will, when doubts and fears whisper, which they always do, when you are triggered by what you see or by what someone says, which you'll never 100% be able to insulate yourself from, it's the choice of how you will respond. Will you choose to fly off the handle, despite knowing where you'll crash, or will you choose to do the hard thing, which is to turn your back on these triggers, these lies, these doubts and make your call, sharing them with your accountability partners, your brothers who journey with you?

Commit to authenticity, transparency, making your calls, doing the work. Even when it is really, really hard. ESPECIALLY when it is really, really hard. Commit to community, going in every week to your group or meeting and engaging in it, being an active participant, not just an observer. Commit to doing your work whether it's Step work or Seven Pillars work. Commit to prayer, meditation, and scripture reading, because spending time with God will change who you are.

Commit.