#reflections

There are days when I miss my old habits, regardless of how destructive they were. I didn’t see them as destructive back then; sometimes you can only see the damage wrought when you’re at the point of opening your eyes wide to begin rebuilding. I told myself I engaged in those behaviors as a form of therapy; they helped with the anxiety, the depression, the sense of ‘lostness’ that permeated that my life. Ultimately those weren’t reasons; they were excuses. As the old saying goes, “I found a lot of excuses to do it, but never any good reasons.” In hindsight I see that it was nothing more than the pursuit of an escapist pleasure, and choosing my destructive habit was, in reality, choosing a false pleasure over real ones, the pleasure of euphoria over the pleasure of satisfaction. During the ‘High Life’ I was unproductive, unable to focus, and lacked clarity of mind. Sure, I would feel focused, but this was shown to be an illusion by how little was actually accomplished. There’s an old adage that stoners are people who sit around and talk about all the stuff they’re going to do (but who never get around to actually doing it). It’s been years since I quit choosing false pleasure over real pleasure, and the results have been well worth it. My reading and writing has skyrocketed, I feel much better physically, and my clarity of mind is intact. I’m able to enjoy genuine pleasures, such as waking up early to read, studying topics of interest, and I have pride and confidence and the satisfaction of work done well.

That isn’t to say, of course, that I never miss those old habits. I engaged them for a reason. They felt good. They made me happy. They numbed the very real pains and stresses of life. Being a husband and a father has brought me more joy than anything ever has, a deep sense of satisfaction and contentment that was heretofore unknown; but the things that bring the most joy also, as a general rule, bring the most stress. These may be my happiest times, but they’re also my most stressful. Working sixty to seventy hours a week to make sure the bills are paid and my family is fed, dealing with illnesses and ailments and doctor’s appointments, the constant worrying about my daughters’ futures – these things take a toll on a man, and it’s easy to long for those old escapist techniques. In these times I remind myself not only to look back on the way things really were (“Off with those rose-colored glasses!”) but to look forward to how I want things to be. God has answered my prayers and given me a beautiful family that I truly don’t deserve, and I yearn to do good by them in everything I do and in everything I am.

I’m reminded of Ravi Zacharias’ comments on pleasure. He said, “All pleasure has a cost. You pay for legitimate pleasure up front and illicit pleasure afterwards. You pay for legitimate pleasure with discipline and hard work; you pay for illicit pleasure with regret, suffering, restlessness, or a diminished appetite. Legitimate pleasure will fulfill you, but illicit pleasure will empty you. Legitimate pleasure never desecrates the sacred rights of another person. Anything that refreshes you without distracting or diminishing or destroying your final goal is a legitimate pleasure. Any pleasure, however good, if not kept in balance, will distort reality or destroy appetite.”