“When you feel in yourself the addictive attraction of alcohol, remember these words: You stand between the two worlds of your lesser self and your full self. Your lesser self is tempting and powerful because it is not as responsible, not as loving, and not as disciplined, so it calls you. The other part of you is whole, more responsible, more caring and more empowered—but it demands of you the way of enlightened spirit: the conscious life! Conscious life. The other choice is permission to act without consciousness. It is tempting.”
Gary Zukav, “Seat of the Soul”, 1989. pp 155-6.
Zukav reminds us that we stand between those two selves and can choose which to stand with. It’s not unlike the parable of the two wolves fighting: one evil, one good, and the one that wins is the one we feed.
But I really prefer the Zukav description because it deals with the conscious and unconscious self, the whole and the lesser self, as opposed to good and evil characteristics. Also, I can relate to the idea of a seductive inner voice, a lesser self, that whispers to me to let it all go and escape into unconsciousness. That seems a lot more like my experience than a couple of wolves fighting inside me.
Instead of growling and gnashing of teeth, I find it’s like quietly sinking down to the bottom of the sea to take one last deep breath or being lost in a winter forest, lying down in the snow, giving in to freezing and falling asleep. In my experience, drinking is to surrender to unconsciousness. Oblivion.
It’s easier to choose the lesser self and run from the weight of living in responsibility, love, and discipline! Life is hard and I often want to escape it. The thing is that by choosing the easier, softer way, I make my life even harder as my problems pile-up which in turn makes the great escape all the more tempting. Cunning, baffling and powerful.
Another part of giving in to the temptation is isolation. I can’t be conscious, responsible, loving, and disciplined while living alone on an island of self. Being conscious demands connection with others. Likewise, I can’t escape from the responsibilities of being conscious and still maintain connection with others. I push others away or eventually they abandon me: “Leave me alone and let me drink in peace!”
In my case, I always felt that I had big things to achieve in my life and could never measure up. But I also felt like I didn’t belong here, like some sort of alien in human form. At the age of five, I was hit by a car. I was saved for a great purpose. Life was going to lay down a path before me so I could meet my destiny. Life owed me.
But life doesn’t work that way. We get what we put into it. Drinking was a way for me to find release from the burden of the responsibility of my life purpose, caring for myself, and developing self-empowerment. When the going got tough, I got to drinking.
Our circumstances and struggles are different, but I think we alcoholics feel them in much the same way. We choose the easier, softer way and blot-out the weight of living in the world by choosing unconsciousness. Whether it’s past trauma, unresolved pain, abandonment, fear, anger, anxiety and any or all of the above, we seek to escape into numbness.
Because I’m sober today, I can forgive myself for choosing the easy way out, and all the harm that followed that. I choose conscious life today, free from escape into alcohol. I often think about the big dreams I’ve had, but I don’t invest in fantasies about my purpose in life now. I’ll always feel the pull of my lesser self inviting me into a lapse of consciousness – a relapse. That’s why it’s absolutely necessary for me to never lose sight of what matters.
My purpose in life today is to stay sober, try to do the next right thing, and, if someone reaches out for help, to show them there’s a way out that worked for me.