Working with Others

For many of us in early recovery, asking for help feels almost impossible. But we have found, as difficult as it can be, that it can literally save our lives, and that with practice, it becomes easier.

However, asking for help is not just important because it may get results. At times, in fact, it might not. Even with a lot of help and support, things can still stand in our way. Sometimes, what we want from the world and from ourselves is just more than what’s available right then. However, even if asking for help may not always get us what we want, it will always help get us through. When we practice accepting help from people who are offering to help, we become just a little bit more open and a little less stuck. It’s the decision to reach out, as much as the answer we receive, that can give us what we need to move forward.

Nevertheless, that decision is often a heavy lift for us. Many of us have done things during our active addictions that we’re not proud of. Some of the decisions we made in the past have far-reaching consequences that continue to impact our lives even after we begin our recovery. We may have worn a mask of competence, or fearlessness, or blamelessness, and the fear of what might happen when we take the mask off may keep us from reaching out. We may be afraid that if we ask people in our lives for help with financial problems, legal trouble, or any of those sorts of issues, we might lose them. We might worry that they will no longer respect us or accept us once the mask is gone, because our fear is that we’ll be revealed as broken, fundamentally flawed people. We may even be afraid that there’s just nothing behind the mask, that we’re simply empty underneath.

We practice compassion for all beings, including ourselves, to see the truth beneath those fears: that there is a loving and lovable heart within all of us. We come to see clearly that those around us feel more pain watching us struggle alone that they would if we let them in. And, of course, by shutting people out and refusing to let them see our struggles, we’ll often bring about the loss and isolation that we were trying to avoid in the first place. So, in view of our own suffering and the pain we can cause to those closest to us, we can see that asking for help is not selfish. In fact, it is an act of great compassion to ourselves and others.

Working with Others continued

Those who have shared the pain of addiction and isolation understand the fear and shame better than we might imagine. Through listening at meetings and sharing our own experiences, we begin to see how we’re not uniquely broken or flawed. And it’s often easier to ask for help from someone other than those people you’re closest with. In addition to the people in your sangha, there may be counselors and other professionals in your community who can be a resource when you need someone with experience and a greater degree of objectivity. Some clinics and universities even offer community counseling on a sliding pay scale, so you may not have to eliminate that option just for financial reasons. And if you are able to make an appointment, know that some fear and reluctance is perfectly natural, and shouldn’t be a reason to cancel the session.

Of course, we know intellectually that our problems become easier to face when we have help, but emotionally we may still feel fear. Here again, it’s the decision to give it a try that may be more valuable than the outcome of the meeting itself. We learn that letting people in and being a little more vulnerable is not as frightening as we may have thought. In fact, we may often find that it’s less daunting than the idea of dealing with our problems all by ourselves.

When we make a practice of asking for help, we frequently find that it improves both the quantity and quality of our relationships in general. Even if you don’t become personally close with people in your sangha outside of meetings, you may find that you are able to connect with more people on a deep level, and that could be something entirely new in your life. Even if you are seeking help from a clergyperson, a therapist, or some other sort of professional, notice how opening up to another person affects how much you trust them. Is there a deepening of respect and feeling of safety as your ability to be transparent grows? This confidence and security may also bring benefits to your other personal relationships. Try to notice these changes as they arise, and give yourself credit for taking steps that are often difficult.

Working with others continued

It’s pretty common to worry that sharing your problems with people will cause them to look down on you, burden them with your baggage, or even upset them in some way. And while we must be honest in acknowledging that may be a risk, we also know that remaining isolated can be a much greater risk to ourselves and to others.

In general, there is a lot of truth in the cliché that burdens are lighter when they’re shared. Most of us have felt like an enormous weight has been removed from our shoulders when we made the choice to not be alone with our problems anymore. And as we experience that relief, we find that asking for help becomes easier and easier.

The truth, for many of us, is that when we first come into recovery we may not immediately have easy access to our inner wisdom. Many of us have been relying on the delusion of fear and shame and reactivity as our guides in life. It takes time to lift those veils, to dig through those layers, in order to break those habits and begin to see clearly. For many of us, it takes time to be able to trust ourselves again. But we can look to our sangha, to our community of wise friends on the path, for guidance and wisdom. When we don’t know what to do, when we lose faith that we can make it through this craving, when we’re lost in obsession and can’t make sense of our own minds and hearts, when the world feels upside down, when we are crawling out of our skin with discomfort, when we have no idea what the next wise step is - this is when we can and must reach out to our sangha for help. Because they’ve gone through what we have. They’ve made it to the other side. And they can show us how.

Wise Friends and Mentors

Many—if not most—recovery meetings are focused on meditating together, reading literature or exploring specific topics, and sharing. There are no requirements for attendance other than a respectful curiosity, and attending meetings are a great opportunity for newcomers to visit and learn about the program. Sometimes, those who have decided to commit to this program of recovery want more support on the path. This is where the idea of a “wise friend” or “mentor” comes in.

The Buddha talked about four kinds of friends: the helpful friend, the kind of friend who sticks with you through good times and bad, the compassionate friend, and the mentor. A wise friend supports us through example, kindness, and compassion. It can be anyone in the sangha who we trust to act as a guide, a supporter, a partner, or just a fellow traveler on the path. This relationship may take many forms, but it is one built on honesty, compassion, healthy boundaries, and a shared intention to support one another’s recovery.

For some of us, especially newcomers, it’s helpful to work with a mentor: a wise friend who’s been following the program for a while who gives support, is there to reach out to when times get rough, and can help hold us accountable. It’s not a formal position: nobody is “certified” or “authorized” to be a mentor. They are just members of the community freely sharing their journey through the Four Truths and Eightfold Path. Everybody decides for themselves if they want to collaborate with someone else on their path, understanding that they must ultimately do the work of recovery themselves. Clear communication about expectations – from both people – is important. There are no strict rules, but if you are asked to help someone else in this way, it’s a good idea to have someone who’s done it before to support you. It’s also strongly encouraged that you commit to the Five Precepts, at least as far as the supportive relationship is concerned.

Wise Friends and mentors

Many people form study or practice groups in addition to regular meetings, in order to give and receive help from wise friends on their path of recovery. Some folks call these kalyana mitta groups, the Pāli term for wise or admirable friends. Some call them “Dharma buddies.” Whatever the name, people gather to explore particular aspects of the path in a smaller group, like practicing longer periods of sitting meditation, studying the Buddhist texts, or listening to recorded Dharma talks. There’s no one way to run these sort of groups, and no special experience is needed to start one. You can experiment for yourselves, and also look at the experience of established groups for ideas.

There are also groups that have formed to support each other in writing inquiries or investigations of how their addictive behavior led to suffering. This is a powerful technique for self-discovery and liberation, and like most things in this program, there is no one “right” way to do it. Some approach it in the same way as inventories in 12-Step programs, and some don’t. The goal is not to cause shame or to dwell on past traumas, but rather to turn toward the pain and confusion we have been running from and learn to meet it with kindness, forgiveness, and compassion. You may consider using the Questions for Inquiry in this book as a starting place for your own exploration, and there are also a number of other written formats available.

If you need help, know that you’re a part of the broader community of wise friends: the sangha of people using Buddhism for recovery. It’s strongly encouraged for at least one person in the group to have someone they can check in with about best practices and safety. Especially when we are working with difficult aspects of our pasts, holding safe space will require wisdom and compassion from all members.

At any time, in groups as well as in every aspect of our lives, the reminder is that when in doubt, we can be present and we can be kind.

Service and Generosity

Different schools of Buddhism have slightly different lists of strengths or good qualities that lead a person to enlightenment. First on every one of those lists, though, is dāna, or generosity. We often think of generosity in terms of money, and many groups use the word dāna to describe the donations that members give to help support the meeting. In the Buddhist tradition, though, dāna is any act of giving - not just money but also food, time, or our attention - without expecting anything in return. You may already be familiar with the emphasis that many recovery programs put on service, which is perfectly in line with this ancient teaching. The merit of this practice has been central to many religions and philosophies down through the centuries.

Generosity with our time, energy, and attention is not only of benefit to others on this path. As we become more generous, it also helps us loosen the grip of greed and attachment that caused so much of our own suffering. From the first time we mindfully put a couple of dollars in the offering bowl or introduce ourselves to a newcomer after a meeting, we can start to feel the benefit of being generous without asking for thanks. In our meditation practice, we learn through direct experience how our bodies and our wealth are impermanent, and this insight makes us more willing to do good with them while we still have them. Sharing our experience at a meeting, or even simply meditating along with others and giving our silent encouragement and support, is an act of kindness that benefits both ourselves and our sangha.

Many of us have trained ourselves for years to be vigilant about being “taken advantage of” or “ripped off.” In some cases, this has certainly been justified, and there will always be times where we will need to set and maintain healthy boundaries. But as our practice deepens, we’re able to do so with an attitude of discernment and compassion. In the Buddhist teachings, generosity is not a commandment or a “you should,” or an unrealistic standard that people are expected to measure themselves by and find themselves falling short. It is, instead, a description of our true nature, of the open and loving hearts that have always been within us, but that have been covered up for so long that they were almost lost to us. The practice helps us to recover this original nature.

Service and recovery continued

As we try to be more and more generous in our meetings and in our lives, we learn to trust our own innate kindness, and we build up confidence that we can give of ourselves to others and still be safe. We continually test what we think are our limitations, and grow in self-esteem, self-respect, and well-being as we see these limitations for what they are: defensive strategies that may once have been necessary, but which have hardened into the handcuffs of habit. The voice of our attachments may say, “I don’t want to put my hard-earned money in that bowl,” or “Maybe I’ll do this act of service, but I’ll stop if people don’t show enough appreciation.” As we practice generosity, we see how these fears are transparent, how they have kept us small. We begin to realize that this practice is really about creating more space in our hearts and minds. As we notice our limits and allow ourselves to go beyond them, our heart-minds become more expansive, more spacious, and composed. This brings us greater feelings of happiness and self-respect, and gives our practice more strength and flexibility to look at the conditions of our lives and our recovery.

We can see the benefits of such a practice when we think about the opposite of this openness, about times when our minds and hearts have been closed and protective. We felt on edge, uneasy, and we usually didn’t like ourselves very much. In that kind of a state, we had very few resources to deal with any discomfort or confusion. We were often thrown off balance by even small setbacks. Painful or difficult experiences often overwhelmed us and sent us running for the temporary relief of substances or behaviors.

As we get more comfortable with a generous, open heart, we experience more balance and ease. When something unpleasant arises, we don’t have to worry that it’s going to crush us or overpower us. We have a refuge we can increasingly rely on in times of trouble. And when a pleasant experience arises, we don’t cling to it as desperately, because we don’t actually need it to feel good about ourselves.

We also practice generosity to be of service to others, to extend healing and happiness to all beings, and to try in some small way to reduce the suffering in this world. What we learn as we continue to work with generosity is that the inner practice of recognizing the emptiness of our attachments and building up resilience is one and the same as the outer practice of giving and service.

Recovery is Possible

In the pages of this book is a path, a set of principles and practices, that can lead to the end of our suffering and see us through the damage that we piled onto ourselves through our addictions. The path is based on gaining and maintaining mindfulness of our feelings, bodies, minds, and experiences. During our journey, we come to accept that we’re responsible for our own actions, and that every choice has a consequence. If we act unskillfully or mindlessly, we will experience pain in our own feelings, thoughts, and experiences (karma), and we may cause harm to others. We begin to recognize that every thought, feeling, and experience is only temporary (impermanence), that it will pass if we allow it to, and trusting this can provide a safe harbor in moments of craving or pain. We start to believe that even the most difficult, traumatic, and painful actions and events of our past don’t define who we are today, nor do they define the possibilities in our future. It is our choices and actions now that define us.

At the same time, we can start to notice and reflect on experience without getting attached to it or to the stories we tell ourselves about it (selflessness). We come to accept that we can never satisfy all of our desires and craving. We see this in our struggles with impermanence, with sickness and aging, not getting what we want or losing what we have, not feeling loved by those we desire or feeling rejected by those whose caring we want the most. We sometimes have to deal with people and situations that are painful or uncomfortable (unsatisfactoriness).

But with clear understanding, we can begin to choose more appropriate actions and responses to our experience, and it is in this choice that we find freedom and relief from suffering. When we act with full awareness of each choice, of even the smallest action, we can begin to notice the motivations behind everything we do. We can begin to ask, “Is this action useful or not? Is it skillful or unskillful?” Whenever we’re confused or feel lost, we have meditation tools that we can use to simply return to the present moment, to our experience of the present as it is for us right now, and we can check in with our sangha—our wise friends—for added perspective and compassionate support.

So, what do we gain by practicing understanding, ethical conduct, and mindfulness? We’re asked to sit with discomfort, to experience it without fear or resistance, and to know that it’s impermanent. We learn that dukkha is part of the human condition, and efforts to avoid or deny it lead to more unhappiness and suffering. We’ve learned that we can never satisfy our desires through sense experiences, through chasing pleasure and trying to hold onto it. Every pleasant sense experience will end, and the more we try to hold onto it and turn desire into need or craving, the more we suffer dukkha. We’re mindful that dissatisfaction and unhappiness have beginnings. By tracing the dissatisfaction or unhappiness back to its root, we can weed it out of the mind.

We follow the Eightfold Path, which allows us to develop understanding. It teaches us the karmic advantage of compassion, lovingkindness, appreciative joy, and equanimity. We learn the quiet satisfaction of living a more ethical and mindful life. What we are achieving is what in Buddhism is called sukha, or true happiness. This is not the temporary pleasure that comes from a high or other temporary sense experience, but the inner peace and well-being that comes from a balanced, mindful life.

It is the opposite of the suffering and unsatisfactoriness of dukkha. Sukha is freedom from hate, greed and confusion. It is an expansive approach to life, being able to sit with and move through feelings of discomfort, dissatisfaction, and discontent. Many of us have been running from and denying dukkha for a very long time, but we have found that it is only when we stop running that we are able to truly access authentic happiness. We can practice the message:

I am here.
This is the way it is right now.
This is a moment of suffering.
May I give myself the care I need at this moment.
May I accept this without struggling, but also without giving up.

Recovery is possible continued

We’ve started to learn that mindfulness involves investigating our unskillful actions and choices, both past and present, and choosing to act with more wisdom in the future. Rather than being bogged down by guilt or shame about the past, we can use it as a guide to making different choices in the present. As we devote energy to awakening and recovery, we’ll learn to investigate our present and our past with wisdom rather than craving or aversion. We’ll experience the growth of trust in our own capacity for, and right to, recovery.

As we get a clearer understanding of what we’re doing in our lives, of the choices we are making and the consequences of those choices, we gain the opportunity to develop generosity, lovingkindness, forgiveness, and equanimity. These are central to Buddhist practice, and to our recovery. We learn to give freely, because we understand that clinging to what is “mine” is based on the delusion that we are what we possess, or what we control. We learn to have metta, or lovingkindness, toward all beings in the world, whether we know them or not.

We come to understand that our practice isn’t just for ourselves, but is based on the interconnectedness and happiness of all living beings. Recovery transforms how we show up for those around us. We can become the compassionate, generous, and wise friend whose calming voice and steadfast support can help others to understand their own struggles and find their own path to healing.

Recovery is possible continued

There is no magic bullet, no single action or practice that will end suffering. This is a path composed of a set of practices that help us deal with suffering and respond wisely to our own lives. We cannot escape or avoid dukkha, but we can begin to be more at peace knowing there is a path forward: a path with less suffering, less craving, less aversion, less destruction, and less shame. It’s a path without an end. It requires effort and awareness. And we don’t have to do it alone.

Recovery is the lifelong process of recovering our true natures and finding a way to an enduring and nonharmful sense of happiness. In recovery, we can finally find the peace so many of us had been searching for in our addictions. We can break through our isolation and find a community of wise friends to support us on our path. We can build a home for ourselves, within ourselves, and we can help others do the same.

The gift we give to ourselves, to one another, and to the world, is one of courage, understanding, compassion, and serenity. We all experience growth differently, and at our own pace. But the most important message of this book is that the journey, the healing, can start now for you and for each of us. May you find your path to recovery. May you trust in your own potential for awakening.