When I was 29, I lived in rural Mt. Horeb, Wisconsin. I rented a cabin in the woods and worked on my poetry. To earn money, I took a job at the Bountiful Bean, a tofu factory.
The Bountiful Bean was owned by a United Methodist pastor. He had grown tired of the compromises entailed when you lead people who support you financially. He thought that if he were financially independent, he could preach the gospel faithfully. I think he was right. However, making tofu is a lot of work, and I don’t believe he ever found time to do much ministry.
The tofu factory was staffed by a tofu master – a cook who makes tofu – and two packagers. I was one of them. Our job was to retrieve bricks of tofu from a vat of cold water, put them in tubs and seal them, and attach a label. The product was shipped to Madison, which was the only city with any demand for tofu in 1992.
One night, the tofu packager invited me and the tofu master over for supper. He made a delicious tofu stir fry – we got scraps for free – and some interesting tasting green tea. We knew he didn’t drink, because he always had soda when we went out for beers. We asked him why. He said he had been a severe alcoholic – drinking in local bars, getting in fights, blacking out and driving drunk. Then suddenly, without Alcoholics Anonymous or any kind of professional help, he quit drinking.
I asked him how he did it. “If you’re going to give up drinking,” he said. “You have to like your life.” So he created that life. He moved to a small farm on rented land. He had horses and a few other animals. He only worked enough to pay his very minimal bills. And he stayed single. “Relationships never worked out for me,” he said. “I’m OK with that. I’ve got everything I need right here.” He used marijuana occasionally, mostly in tea, which did not cause him any problems. But he did not touch alcohol in any form. He had recovered from his illness.
We all want more pleasure and less pain; it’s human nature. Addictive substances and behaviors – alcohol, drugs, gambling, sex, gaming, shopping – deliver that short term, but if abused they exact a high price long term – in jobs, relationships and health. Addiction is like a short circuit; it lights up the LED’s of pleasure but burns out the wires of life. That’s why creating a good life is so important for recovery – more pleasure, less pain – but without the collateral damage.
My friend found recovery through horses, simple living and singleness. I’m finding mine through following my writing and creativity wherever it leads, helping people as a chaplain – and drinking good coffee. We can all recover from addictions, but we have to like our life.
— Nelsonia