7 Spiritual Lessons Learned in my 7 Years Sober

On May 3, 2020 I celebrated 7 years of sobriety. I had originally wanted this blog post to be released then, but you know... LIFE HAPPENS! In many ways, I am happy that I am just getting around to finishing this post now, because these past 6 months have been, hands down, the most difficult months of my entire sober journey. 

COVID-19 has brought unprecedented challenges for so many of us; however, recovering addicts have been hit particularly hard by this pandemic. Not being able to gather and receive in-person support throughout this time has been deadly for many addicts. I heard it said once that the opposite of addiction is NOT sobriety. The opposite of addiction is CONNECTION. My first sponsor used to always tell me that addicts are the only people who treat loneliness with isolation. That always resonated so deeply with me. The defining features of my addiction were pathological loneliness and core shame. I wanted so deeply to connect with people, but I was overcome with fear. I had this belief that “if they only knew the real me/who I really was, nobody would ever love me or want to be around me.” This core shame predated my addictive behaviors; however, my addiction and the behavior that manifested as a result of my compulsive need to get high only amplified these feelings of shame, guilt, and unworthiness. 
The isolation we have collectively experienced this year as a result of the global pandemic has been particularly devastating to addicts. I have seen a lot of people relapse. Some have made it back to recovery, some will in the future, and some sadly, will not. I can definitively say that I have never been closer to a relapse than I have been in the last 6 months. I was brought to my knees and humbled in ways I never thought I would be this year. I am on the other side of it now, but this summer was a very dark time for me. The desire to escape was so intense. I still am not completely sure how I made it through sober, but I do know that there is something greater than me looking out for me. I also know that even though I was physically feeling very isolated, I called on my people. In some cases, people I have not spoken to in a while or people I rarely talk to, but people I know are THERE FOR ME, no matter what. And when I really needed them, these people showed up. They talked me off the ledge, again and again… and again and again… and again and again...

When I first turned 7 in May, it felt like a very big milestone. I think this might be because early in my sobriety, someone told me that about every 7 years, every cell in your body has regenerated and you are essentially an entirely new person. I remember thinking, back then, with only a few weeks of sobriety, that eventually, in 7 years, I would have a body that had never been poisoned with drugs or alcohol. 

Being the good little Triple Gemini that I am, I did some research on this phenomenon as my 7th sober birthday approached. I have found conflicting research about the truth of this cellular regeneration process, but most sources seem to agree that for the most part, about every 7-10 years, we are essentially new people at a cellular level. I think this is pretty RAD! Of course, it is amazing that I am physically a completely different person than I was when I practically crawled into rehab 7 years ago, but to me, the mental, emotional, spiritual, and energetic transformations are even more incredible. I have learned SO MANY lessons and grown SO MUCH in the last seven years. This blog post is dedicated to my top seven lessons over the last seven years on this crazy journey. 

7. Be kind, for everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about. 

I am paraphrasing, but I have heard different versions of this quote or similar ones throughout the years. Being in recovery truly drove this home for me. Addiction definitely does not discriminate. People from all walks of life are equally vulnerable to addiction. I have met incredible people in recovery, people with the biggest hearts and so much to give to this world. This does not simply apply to addiction and recovery, though. I think we can all agree that life is HARD! Life is also beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but much of the time, it is not easy being human. People are going through seemingly insurmountable struggles each and every day. We could all use a little more kindness as we navigate this life. Be kind, and give people grace when they don’t treat you as nicely as they should. I guarantee it is not personal, and you just never know what people are dealing with behind the scenes in their lives. 

6. I believe in the trauma model of addiction. 

Yup, I am going there! And this one is sure to be controversial. Many people believe that they were born alcoholics and that they inherited a genetic disease from their parents or people further up in their ancestral lineage. There was a time when I believed I was born “defective” or “broken” and there was essentially nothing I could do, except learn how to manage and control my symptoms and behaviors in order to live the best possible life I could, given my inherent defectiveness. 

I WHOLEHEARTEDLY REJECT THIS IDEA NOW!! I am eternally grateful to my teacher Dr. Gabor Maté and my therapist for guiding me toward this truth. I am happy to discuss this idea more with anyone who is interested, but I believe going into too much detail here is beyond the scope of this post and may warrant an entire post of its own in the future. However, I cannot recommend enough the book, In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction by Dr. Gabor Maté if you are interested in this topic. He is a true expert on the disease of addiction and has an incredible way of breaking down complicated scientific concepts about early childhood brain development into very clear, concise, digestible terms anyone can understand. This book beautifully combines anecdotes from his experience working with addicts and hard science to paint a very clear picture of addiction and its developmental origins.

5. You can literally do anything in this life. 

There was a time in my life when I literally could not sit still for 10 seconds. When I took my first DBT skills course in 2011, even 3 minutes of sitting quietly in mindfulness meditation was pure torture for me. I had officially subscribed to the belief that meditation was NOT for me and I would NEVER be able to do it.

Fast forward to today. I practice meditation every, single day and it is my absolute favorite time of the day. Not only that, but I have found my life’s work in teaching these practices to others. When I told my old DBT therapist that I now guide yoga, meditation, breathwork, and other healing practices, she laughed with me in disbelief. We had a beautiful moment together and reflected on how far I have come in my recovery. 

I have witnessed many other people overcome tremendous obstacles and create beautiful lives for themselves in recovery. High school dropouts go back to school to become doctors and lawyers. People who came from incredibly abusive homes do tremendous inner healing work and go on to raise children who feel safe, secure, and unconditionally loved. Truly, anything is possible in this life if you are willing to put in the work and face yourself. If I can be a yoga teacher, meditation guide, and a healer, YOU CAN BE ANYTHING YOU DAMN WELL PLEASE!

4. You don’t need a WHOLE squad, just a few RIDE OR DIES! 

This is one of the lessons I have learned from COVID-19. I had periods throughout this summer where I was incredibly depressed and felt closer to a drink than I ever have before in my sobriety. Throughout this time, I have experienced the loss of a few friendships that I never thought I would lose. I understand that the experience of this pandemic has rocked everyone to the core, and I am not passing judgment or blame on anyone. However, there were times throughout the last few months when I felt scared, alone, and rejected.
Throughout my life, I have always had a difficult time navigating relationships. I have always envied the people who have a solid group of lifelong friends that they have journeyed with throughout the different phases of life. I always wished I had a squad of “sober sisters” to do everything with in early sobriety. The truth is, I never had any of those things. I pretty much have ONE friend left from childhood (SHOUT OUT KENDRA VACULIN AKA PAUL BUNYON!! FEEF LUVS U V MUCH), zero friends from high school, and about 3 friends from college. This is something that has been a consistent source of sadness in my life for a long time.

I am one of the most extroverted people you will ever meet. I am friendly, outgoing, and 98% of the time, I am radiating positive energy. People definitely enjoy being around me, and overall I am well-liked in the spaces I occupy. I have a lot of acquaintances, but I struggle with feeling like I have NOBODY to call when I am really falling apart and need support (it doesn’t happen often anymore, but I am human and it still happens from time to time).
This summer, I recognized that even though sometimes I feel like I don’t have a lot of friends or a lot of support, the people I do have in my life are incredible. People really came through for me and showed up in ways I didn’t expect. My family rallied around me, friends from early sobriety who I have not talked to much lately started calling every day to check up on me, and people welcomed me with open arms when I just needed a good cry on someone’s shoulder. I FINALLY learned the lesson that when it comes to friendships, quality is definitely better than quantity, and I am so happy I have some true ride or dies in my life. You know who you are and I LOVE YOU TO THE MOON AND BACK!!!


3. HEALING IS NOT LINEAR!!! 

This was one of the lessons that made the list six months ago, but I could never have known then how much this would ring true for me this year. This has probably been my greatest lesson of 2020. This year took me to places I really never thought I would be again. I have not had any major mental health episodes since 2016. I had really gotten to a place where I thought that was behind me and I would never have to deal with depression, anxiety, or mania again. I had not had a serious desire to drink or use in a VERY long time, and I had in some ways forgotten what it was like to be overcome with that mental obsession. Because I have been doing so well, I have not seen my therapist since 2017. I will forever be grateful to this particular therapist because the intention of our time together was for me to heal and get to a place where I could no longer see her. Many therapists are invested in keeping you in their chair, but with her, I got in there, saw her for 18 months, did some incredibly deep work, and then went out into the world to live my life. 
When I began struggling this summer, I felt like going back to therapy would be pointless. I thought to myself, “what is she going to tell me that I don’t already know? I know what to do, I just don’t have the support I need available to me right now due to COVID and all the restrictions.” (Pretty arrogant, I know!) Thank you to my friend Anthony and my family for giving me the push I needed to humble myself, pick up the phone, and seek the necessary help. I went back to therapy and it was so incredible! There is always more to go for. The things we are working on now are things I was not ready to look at when I saw her four years ago. I am a different person now. I have different needs and I am ready to face more of my demons. 

On my own healing journey and in my experience with my clients and friends on this healing path, there can be frustration that arises when the SAME behavior pattern or trauma comes up for healing over and over and over again. I know for me, I have had moments where I literally say out loud to myself, “THIS AGAIN??? Am I EVER going to heal this??” The last six months have taught me not to judge myself. I get to love myself, right here, right now, NO MATTER WHAT. I get to show up exactly as I am and I do not have to pretend to be further along on the journey than I am. Healing is not linear. In my experience, it is more like a spiral. Each time “the same” wound comes up for healing, you get to address it at an even deeper level. You get to learn more about yourself and love yourself even harder throughout the process. My healing journey will never be over. Sometimes it feels like 3 steps forward and 2 steps back, but that is still forward progress and that is what I am here for. Progress, not perfection… because, let’s face it, perfection is boring!

2. This Too Shall Pass… and probably much quicker than you think it will! 

I used to absolutely hate this phrase in early sobriety. It seemed like such a cliche to me. (SPOILER ALERT: AA is full of cliches and cheesy taglines! Joke’s on me though, because they are basically all true). This one, in particular, got under my skin when I was new. Since I was nine years old, I had been a professional at escaping and avoiding uncomfortable feelings. Whether it was through self-harm, drugs and alcohol, sex, or disordered eating, sitting with uncomfortable feelings and waiting for them to pass was not on the menu for me. The moment I began to feel something I didn’t want to or couldn’t bear to feel, I would immediately alter my state, numb out, and escape. This idea of just waiting for things to pass seemed absolutely impossible. But I had no choice but to start trying it. In my first year sober, this sometimes looked like blowing up my sponsor’s phone and ranting and raving, chain smoking cigarettes, pacing my apartment, or literally bouncing off the walls. Over time, this began to look like sitting with myself, tuning into the sensations in my body, getting present with what was coming up for me, journaling, or calling a friend and calmly discussing the situation. But the point is, no matter how it looked or how I filled the time, I waited. And uncomfortable feelings and difficult life situations passed. And I recognized that it was actually the drinking and using that prolonged these situations. I recognized that things actually passed much more quickly if I stayed sober through them. 

There is one particular memory that sticks out in my mind when I think about this lesson. In the summer of 2017, I had a really rough day. I worked myself into a major frenzy (over what, I cannot remember now, but I was really losing my mind!). Within a few hours of wanting to drink and throw my life away, I was driving on the freeway listening to Fleetwood Mac, as the sun was setting. I vividly remember thinking in that moment, “WOW! In the past, I would have drank or used today when I was feeling so uncomfortable; and if I had done that, I would have totally missed THIS!!!” It was then that I got the lesson of “this too shall pass” on a cellular level. It was then that I realized the reason why drinking and using prolonged negative experiences and uncomfortable feelings was I was robbed of my ability to be present and connect to the simple joys in life - like a groovy tune and a vibrant SoCal sunset! 

1. Presence is the GREATEST GIFT of sobriety.

This has to be number one on the list. This has been both a lesson and a gift over the last seven years. I am not here to say that being present for life is easy. That would be a lie. Being present for life means being present for every moment, every day! Sometimes that means feeling pain. Sometimes that means experiencing loss. Sometimes that means struggling. However, in my experience, the times of pain and struggle are overshadowed by the moments of joy and bliss. This is so clearly illustrated by my story in the last lesson of tasting bliss at the sight of a sunset and the sound of a favorite song. What presence means to me is allowing life to move you. Allowing yourself to be an open channel for the experiences of life to move through. Every minute of every day is an opportunity to begin again. I cannot control what happens to me in life. However, I can control the way I react. I can choose to lean into love, bliss, and joy when they authentically arise in my day. I can go FULLY into that space without fear. I can let myself feel good. I can allow the beauty of the full moon to move me to tears. I can stand in the storm with my friends when they are struggling and give them my undivided attention and steadfast support. I can allow the sensation of cool moss under my feet to send chills throughout my entire body. I can love fully. I can open my heart and let people in. 

To me, presence means allowing yourself to be fully consumed by what is naturally coming up for you in each moment. I can go into the depths of my sadness and grief, and on the exact same day be singing and dancing with joy. Presence is embracing the full human experience and committing to feel it all. The one thing I KNOW I no longer want to be in my life is numb. Numbness is worse than pain. I want to feel fully alive every second of every day. 

Last week, I was heading back from work in Malibu and I was driving through the canyons at the golden hour, just before sunset. The entire canyon was this beautiful golden, orange color and the sky was just incredible. As I was taking it all in, I realized I had to pull over. I got out of the car at my new favorite little secret spot and I blasted some Bad Bunny. I danced, I laughed, I cried, and I rejoiced. I watched the sunset and I marveled at how beautiful our earth is. I literally swam in a sea of self love and reflected on how far I have come in the last seven years. I had just spent the whole day guiding breathwork groups and I was on my way to guide Yoga Nidra. I am doing my dharma and I am showing up fully for life each day. The beauty of the moment completely consumed me. I missed so much of my life when I was drunk and high. I missed so many moments I will never get back. Today, I can default to my love Steven Tyler and say, “I don’t wanna miss a thing.” I want to be present for all of it because this life is crazy and beautiful. 

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Creativity, Discipline, Adaptability, and Other Lessons from 2020

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My Healing Journey.