What does it mean to be part of the human beings anonymous?
For the coming weeks this blog will be devoted to beginning the process of answering that question. I owe much in the development of my early thinking on this to Gerald G. May, M.D., and his superior book Addiction and Grace.* Early in his book he offers these thought provoking words:
“I am not being flippant when I say that all of us suffer from addiction. Nor am I reducing the meaning of addiction. I mean in all truth that the psychological, neurological, and spiritual dynamics of full-fledged addiction are actively at work within every human being. The same processes that are responsible for addiction to alcohol and narcotics are also responsible for addiction to ideas, work, relationships, power, moods, fantasies, and an endless variety of other things. We are all addicts in every sense of the word. Moreover, our addictions are our own worst enemies. They enslave us with chains that are of our own making and yet that, paradoxically, are vitually beyond our control . . . addiction, then, is at once an inherent part of our nature and an antagonist of our nature. It is the absolute enemy of human freedom, the antipathy of love. Yet, in still another paradox, our addictions can lead us to a deep appreciation of grace. They can bring us to our knees.” (3-4)
It all started when I felt a call some three years ago to prepare and lead a series of sessions about Twelve Steps living for people who believe that they do not have any addictions. The original working title was “Living as Mustard Seeds in Cracked Clay Pots” – the title that has emerged is Human Beings Anonymous. The coming weeks of this blog will be part of the process of my book writing – something I very much need to do along my own journey of faith and life.
I invite you to join the journey, to participate in the conversation, and to surrender to a Higher Power that is able to restore sanity to our day to day living.
*May, Gerald G., M.D. Addiction and Grace. San Francisco: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1988.