The Rus­sian Mir­a­cle Work­ers

DNA/STEM CELL HEAL­ING COUR­SES Based on the fun­da­men­tal prin­ci­ples of quan­tum physics and the re­gen­er­a­tion tech­niques of with Carol Roberts Coolan­gatta Beach QLD

Living Now - - Health & Healing -

Another out­dated but still pop­u­lar the­ory is that drug users are self-de­struc­tive. Well, I spent a cou­ple of decades tak­ing drugs my­self, fol­lowed by a cou­ple more decades spe­cial­is­ing in ad­dic­tion re­cov­ery, and I’ve never met any­one who started out with a self-de­struc­tive in­tent. No one gets up one day and thinks to them­selves, ‘ Hmmm, what a good day to ruin my life; I think I’ll be­come an ad­dict and an out­cast and lie around in gut­ters’.

More likely, one day a friend or rel­a­tive of­fered them mar­i­juana or a pill; they tried it, and then felt even bet­ter than usual. Be­cause we live in a world in which drug use is nor­mal and drug im­agery and ref­er­ences sat­u­rate pop­u­lar cul­ture, do­ing it again also seems nor­mal. It is feel­ing bet­ter than nor­mal that kicks off a drug jour­ney.

So it is an ad­ven­tur­ous and ex­ploratory na­ture that drives peo­ple to re­peat drugs, not self-de­struc­tive im­pulses. While the even­tual out­come of ex­ten­sive drug use is def­i­nitely de­struc­tive, the ini­tial in­tent is not. This is an im­por­tant dis­tinc­tion.

It is also com­monly ac­cepted that drug users have low self-worth. But these days low self-worth is gen­er­ally how some­one feels af­ter do­ing lots of drugs, not how they feel be­fore tak­ing up drugs. The belief that low self-worth is a cause for ad­dic­tion con­tin­ues be­cause health pro­fes­sion­als are still run­ning on the old script, and be­cause they con­fuse pre­sent­ing symp­toms with cause. This is an easy mis­take to make as, by the time you do seek help for drug is­sues, you’re prob­a­bly not com­ing across as a model citizen. You’re more likely to be para­noid, twitch­ing and ram­bling, with the oblig­a­tory low opin­ion of your­self thrown in. If you saw streams of clients in this state, you would nat­u­rally as­sume low self-worth and other psy­cho­log­i­cal prob­lems to be a cause.

Then there is the idea that drug users are dis­eased. This makes no sense to me. A book I read a while back de­scribed how, dur­ing the Cul­tural Revo­lu­tion in China, Mao had all the ad­dicts rounded up and told that they could ei­ther quit drugs or be shot. Need­less to say, they all quit on the spot. No prob­lem. In the au­thor’s opin­ion this proved that ad­dic­tion was not a dis­ease be­cause you could not do that with a group of peo­ple who had, say, small­pox. I tend to agree. In my opin­ion the ‘ad­dic­tion as dis­ease’ model is de­featist. It doesn’t give you any­thing to move for­ward to, whereas look­ing at what you got right on drugs, does.

Why we re­ally do drugs

There is no great mys­tery be­hind why peo­ple take drugs; they make you feel good, and ev­ery­body likes that. Drugs also re­veal the mul­ti­ple di­men­sions that make up re­al­ity, and I would ar­gue that ev­ery­body likes that too. Most of us end up shelv­ing our youth­ful dreams as part of our in­duc­tion into or­di­nary re­al­ity, and then re­sign­ing our­selves to think­ing that life is mun­dane. One puff on a joint though, and the uni­verse ex­pands, time slows down, ev­ery con­ver­sa­tion is equally fas­ci­nat­ing and hi­lar­i­ous, stress and obli­ga­tions dis­ap­pear and eat­ing be­comes a sen­sual feast. You are present and happy, and re­mem­ber that or­di­nary re­al­ity is not the only op­tion.

Or you might do a line of co­caine or shoot-up or smoke some other speedy-type drug (crack, speed, crys­tal meth), and get a rush of shat­ter­ing clar­ity. A taste of heroin de­liv­ers you into a bliss­ful co­coon of for­get­ting. Or you drop some psy­che­delic sub­stance or have a nice cup of mush­room tea, and the walls around you melt away to re­veal a spin­ning, lu­mi­nous uni­verse so beau­ti­ful it’s be­yond com­pre­hen­sion, but you un­der­stand it per­fectly be­cause you know that you are an in­te­gral part of it.

If you felt drawn to re­peat a drug ex­pe­ri­ence, you wanted to re­cap­ture in­tense hap­pi­ness, bliss­ful for­get­ting or con­nec­tion to some­thing be­yond or­di­nary re­al­ity. You got some­thing very right here, be­cause we are des­tined to pur­sue these states. From this per­spec­tive, the de­sire to re­peat drugs is not ev­i­dence of psy­cho­log­i­cal mal­func­tion or wrong­do­ing, but rather an in­di­ca­tion that you have tapped into some­thing con­nected to your des­tiny.

The rad­i­cal road to re­cov­ery

Think­ing that you got some­thing right on drugs seems coun­ter­in­tu­itive, and I would never have dared make such an out­ra­geous claim in my early post-drug days. Like most drug users, I had been brain­washed into be­liev­ing that drugs are bad, which means that ev­ery­thing you feel and do on drugs is bad and, by de­fault, you are bad.

I would prob­a­bly have stuck to that script too if I hadn’t de­cided to study Chi­nese medicine. Although one of the ma­jor at­trac­tions of study was the op­por­tu­nity to rein­vent my­self as a whole­some new-ager, I found ev­ery­thing about Chi­nese medicine so fas­ci­nat­ing that I threw my­self into it with the same ded­i­ca­tion I had once ap­plied to scor­ing drugs. I read ev­ery­thing I could get my hands on, from the an­cient books on Chi­nese medicine to ob­scure texts on Dao­ism – the phi­los­o­phy un­der­pin­ning tra­di­tional Chi­nese medicine.

I was im­me­di­ately taken with the Daoists; a group of colour­ful, ec­cen­tric rebels, who sought to live in har­mony with na­ture, crack the cos­mic code and es­cape re­al­ity. These were my kind of peo­ple. Chi­nese medicine was my kind of medicine too. The ther­a­peu­tic plat­form is neu­tral. It is based on the belief that or­gan im­bal­ances con­trib­ute to phys­i­cal and emo­tional pain and restor­ing or­gan func­tion cre­ates health and hap­pi­ness. There is no ‘ Let’s get to the bot­tom of your prob­lem’ stuff, no mak­ing amends and no judg­ment. Why any­one chose to take a par­tic­u­lar path, ac­tion or sub­stance is not con­sid­ered rel­e­vant.

Af­ter I grad­u­ated and ac­ci­den­tally be­gan spe­cial­is­ing in ad­dic­tion re­cov­ery, I saw first-hand how this neu­tral ther­a­peu­tic ap­proach avoided the emo­tional traps that delv­ing into ‘why’ cre­ates. But my clients – mainly peo­ple who had be­come caught in a re­lapse and re­hab cy­cle – were still con­cerned with ‘why’. They wanted an­swers. This inspired me to start think­ing be­yond the com­monly ac­cepted rea­sons. I re­turned to my study of the Daoist mys­tics, made the cos­mic con­nec­tion be­tween drugs and des­tiny, and then ev­ery­thing changed.

Find­ing your cos­mic self

The Daoists be­lieve that life is meant to be spent as a quest to find the ‘cos­mic self’ and that be­ing in al­tered states plays a key role in this process. The word ‘cos­mic’ was overused in the hip­pie era, and for many it still con­jures up im­ages of flower chil­dren, psy­che­delic sub­stances and tree hug­ging. From the Daoist per­spec­tive this would be a cor­rect as­so­ci­a­tion though, as be­ing cos­mic means be­ing more than nor­mal, feel­ing more than or­di­nary, and see­ing more than ‘re­al­ity’. This is what the hip­pies wanted and what ev­ery drug user still wants.

While I was think­ing about the con­tem­po­rary ap­pli­ca­tion of be­ing cos­mic, it struck me that it’s not ac­tu­ally the drugs you want, it’s the way they make you feel. Height­ened sen­sory per­cep­tion, the ex­pan­sion of con­scious­ness, over­whelm­ingly pow­er­ful feel­ings of bond­ing and love, are all ex­pe­ri­ences of your cos­mic self; so what you re­ally want is ac­cess to your cos­mic self. Once I made this con­nec­tion I added ‘cos­mic’ back into my vo­cab­u­lary, aban­doned the idea of neutrality and, scan­dalously, be­gan work­ing with what drug users got right.

A seis­mic shift oc­curred. In­stead of fol­low­ing the old script – quit drugs or al­co­hol; en­gage in a daily bat­tle against pow­er­ful urges; fi­nally re­sign your­self to a half-life spent fo­cused on what you got wrong, and what you will never have again – re­cov­ery be­came an op­por­tu­nity to re­cap­ture height­ened states and con­tinue the jour­ney of dis­cov­ery. ‘Find your cos­mic self,’ be­came the new re­cov­ery goal.

The chi fac­tor

Find­ing your cos­mic self is ex­pe­ri­en­tial, and achiev­ing al­tered states again is a part of the re­cov­ery plan. This is where chi comes into the pic­ture. Chi is what cre­ates drug highs. In the West, chi is usu­ally trans­lated as ‘energy’, but this is too lim­ited a con­cept. You can get energy from cho­co­late; you can’t get a psy­che­delic ad­ven­ture though.

Chi is bet­ter de­fined as be­ing si­mul­ta­ne­ously energy, in­for­ma­tion and con­scious­ness. Drugs flood your sys­tem with this mix, which is why they can mag­i­cally con­vert the dull

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Australia

© PressReader. All rights reserved.