"Sobriety... I'll drink to that!"

Bar XS (how apt?) Fallowfield, Manchester, circa 2005.
Don't do drugs. Or wear novelty Y-fronts. Or both.

I have always had a somewhat full-on, addictive personality. Those of you who know me are more than aware of this. When I was a young teenager I would regularly disappear for whole weekends at friend's houses, spending 32 hours straight playing computer games. These were exhausting, semi-exhilarating, semi-nightmarish times, involving driving sports cars into on-coming traffic, being assaulted by a myriad of well-oil muscular oriental gentlemen with nunchucks and inadvertently allowing a house full of zombies do unspeakable things to a small child. In short, I was no good at games. I never had the desire to "practise" in my spare time. I was far too concerned with playing my bass guitar in my room and making small but impressive incendiary devices in the woods behind my house, a lively obsession in its own right that cost me multiple eyebrows and nearly a few jackets/fingers/school friends etc. Good times! All this was brought to an untimely end when my father caught me trying to suck petrol out of the mower to mix with the WWII gunpowder stolen by a friends Grandad at the end of the war (and later smuggled out in turn by us lot with equal furtive glee to our "HQ" in the woods - Phillip Spragg, I will always be eternally grateful). To say he was not entirely overjoyed with the discovery of my new-found obsession , would be somewhat of an understatement.

For the same reasons, I have always shied away from gambling ever since once spending the entirety of a family holiday in Devon feeding an endless stream of 2p pieces in a coma-like daze into those "sliding tray" arcade machine in the hope of winning... Well, more 2ps! There's some kind of comparison there with Samsaric tedium and monotony of conditioned existence, coupled with the futility and unsatisfactoriness of endless craving, but that is fairly self-explanatory. In addition, my Mum always had a way with the horses, and it did look jolly exciting. Saturday afternoons were always spent with her kneeling before of a fan of various open newspapers, screaming exhalations of encouragement, incredulity, despair and eventual gratitude at the TV screen 8 inches away. People say that an addictive personality is hereditary. I have no idea what they mean! I choose not to gamble because I disagree with it in principle. Nothing to do with knowing myself and my slew of assorted failings and weaknesses. Honest!

Years later, I discovered pot, cigarettes and alcohol, but not necessarily in that order, or indeed on separate occasions. Like a cartoon light bulb going on above my head (or more accurately, off), here was something I was good at. Exceptional even. Amongst my fellow "space explorers", nobody would push it and themselves further or harder in the realms of expansive states of cranial obliteration. I would smoke and drink until I was the last man standing. Invariably. I saw it as my "thing"! I would still be going strong (I use that term loosely) when some of the less adventurous revellers would be getting up to commence the hunt for greasy breakfast meats and caffeinated edification. I was "The Hoover" at the end of house parties. I smoked all the way to the roach, every time, as well as once tuning an entire living room (not even my own) upside down and inside out in the fruitless search for a lump of hashish the size of a fingernail. I smuggled pot in the back of a mobile phone to France through the Channel Tunnel once, risking unmitigated catastrophe had I been caught. In short, I was selfish, self-centred and utterly oblivious the complete hold this lifestyle held over me. I could argue (and often did, quite successfully) that the greater danger of the two (alcohol and pot) was clearly alcohol, and would reel off a stream of well rehearsed statistics (they usually had to be, I was that stoned by this point in the evening) that illustrated my point. All the while imbuing both with reckless abandon, this continued from my teens into my transition to being a student in Manchester, where it just got silly. At one point, my partner and I were spending £300 a month on weed. PLUS booze! The haze was never more purple, I can tell you! I got very involved with the music scene too, further blinding me to the reality of the situation; simply put, I was spending all my money, time and both mental and physical resources on having VERY cosy time on the sofa, eating (chocolate) Penguins, achieving nothing, forgetting everything.

Post gig 2007. A game my various band-mates termed "Buckaroo-Bardsley" which turned into....

I find the baseball bat the most impressive, but 10 points for the dinosaur... I'm under there, somewhere...

On of the main problems with this way of life is that in the greater scheme of things, there's nothing really that wrong with it. A youth spent wasted is never an entirely wasted youth. Again, to echo the words of Bill Hicks, I didn't hurt anybody, didn't loose one job, simply laughed my arse off and went about my day selling and playing guitars. There were some great times, and I made a lot of friends, but can now recall very few of either! No sympathy for me please by the way, my point here is that we often find ourselves in situations in which we could be either praised, derided or met with well-mannered indifference. It's all subjective, entirely dependant on our own attitudes and conditioning. A heroin-addled rock-star would have simply laughed at me, a nun would have scolded me, and my friends just wanted me to be happy, and so it should be. It's too easy to be self-critical. In the Buddhist tradition, there are always "Worldly Winds" (Lokadhammas) buffeting and tossing us around as we oscillate between four pairs of opposites: praise and blame, gain and loss, pleasure and pain, fame and infamy. Each "wind" is understandably and by definition subjective. We've got to try to avoid the trap of being mindlessly blown about, whist recognising that at any time we are almost unavoidably experiencing the pull or push of these phenomena, consciously or otherwise. A broader perspective will allow us to deal with the ups and downs in life with far greater equanimity and mental fortitude, and hopefully not get to caught up in ourselves. It's not easy. How do we bring about this change in perspective?

Works DON'T....

Well firstly, lets start by considering the benefits of being honest and open about our past (and current) experiences. I'm a firm advocate of the notion that you really do have to "go there" before you can "come back" in any meaningful way. Or, put in more conventionally Buddhist terms, we need to know and understand what exactly we are Going to Refuge from. Invariably, it is suffering of some sort or to some degree. In our attempts to understand the nature of this suffering, it is thus vital that we understand it's causes, and a huge part of that process is achieved by examining the conditions and mental states that lead us to that suffering in the first place.  If we understand the nature of what it is to suffer, and the causes of that suffering, then we can start to see that by resolving to and then acting now we start to bring a systematic end to that suffering. If we are always broke, then we work out a budget now and stick to it in the future. If we always seem tired, then lets get more sleep and look after our bodies better today. If we are unhappy about how much mass we have accumulated over the years - PUT DOWN THE FORK! I jest, but you get the picture. What if we are always broke and hungover? The systematic path to the end of suffering is known in Buddhist tradition as The Noble Eight-fold path (more on that another time, but it's well worth looking up if you get a second), and the four facts that lead us to this logical realisation are known as The Four Noble Truths. 

1. Suffering exists

2. Suffering has causes.

3. Suffering can be reduced and then cease.

4. The (Eight-fold) Path leads to the cessation of Suffering.

Secondly, and on a not entirely unrelated matter, it so happens that five weeks ago, it was Padmasambhava Day at the Manchester Buddhist Centre, expertly lead by Manjunaga and Arthaketu. The particular story that Arthaketu decided to tell was of when the "Precious Guru" himself was first invited over from India to Tibet by the king of Tibet, and specifically concerned his subsequent refusal to bow before the aforementioned King. The story goes that Padmasambhava saw clearly the true nature of the situation, with all the peer pressure on both men provided by the thousands of the kings attendants and the large crowd who had gathered for the meeting of these two contrasting worlds. On one side of the impasse there was the King of Tibet, elegantly adorned with the finest cloths his kingdom could provide, backed up by his vast army to crush his opponents at his disposal, and consumed by the inflated sense of self importance that can come with being born into a privileged life. On the other side of the divide, the Enlightened master Padmasambhava, Master of the Eight-fold past, extinguisher of the flames of suffering, invited upon the King's own bequest, and looked up to by thousands as the embodiment of absolute truth and reality itself. The tension was palpable. In the end, the king was reminded in no uncertain terms that although he was master of his own material kingdom, Padmasambhava had mastered the kingdom of his own mind and heart, and thus would not bow before the king for the sake of peer pressure or to keep with tradition for traditions sake. The king, eventually conceded, and humbly prostrated before his spiritual superior.

Padmasambhava or "Precious Guru" - founder of Tibetan Buddhism."I am sustained by perplexity; and I am here to destroy lust, anger and sloth"

Padmasambhava's refusal to give in to that pressure and to remain clear and focused on the objective reality of the situation resonated clearly and deeply within me, especially when Arthaketu asked us all to reflect on who we prostrate before. In the case of Buddhists, traditionally this would be the Three Jewels of the Buddha, his Dharma (teachings/truth) and his Sangha (fellowship of followers on his path). But who or what else do we seek Refuge in? Who do we run to in order to alleviate our suffering and are they refuges we wish to bow down before and endorse? What about alcohol? What about pot and other drugs? It's not that these refuges don't provide shelter, they clearly do. But it reminds me (in my case) very much of the story of the Tree Little Pigs. For me, the house made up of pot eventually went up in smoke. The house made of empty bottles kept smashing to pieces on the hard earth with little more that a nudge. But a house made of three giant, glorious jewels? The hardest and most precious materials known to man? That indeed would be a true, stable and safe refuge from the Big Bad Wolf of Suffering. I should know, I've had to have counselling twice for drugs and alcohol related issues. A short poem I once wrote in a moment of desperation went thus:

"I drink 'cus I'm unhappy.

I'm unhappy 'cus I'm broke

I'm broke 'cus I spend all my cash

On beer and getting smoked"

This article is thus about my subsequent and ardent desire to reduce my endorsement of the tobacco and alcohol industries, and to bow down to peer pressure less and less. It's about my newly-found resolve to strike out on the path of true individuality. My decision to eventually stop drinking, it must be said, also has as much to do with knowing myself as my own worse enemy as it does with deepening my own practise. I know now for a fact that drinking even a small amount of alcohol makes it harder for my mind to "settle down" into itself the next day when I'm on the cushions. I can't speak for everyone, but that's my experience. Meditation helps me feel more "me". When I feel more "me", I'm more in touch with my emotions. Generally speaking, when I'm more integrated with my experiences and emotions, I'm a more positive, happier person. As we all do, I want "me" to be happy. 

But perhaps not THIS happy? Really... Really... Trashed! Post-gig party, circa 2009 (but I'm not entirely certain)....

My other hypothesis is that by recognising alcohol and drugs as being a major contributing factor towards so much of the financial, physical and mental suffering in my life to this point, then I can start to examine why I do it. What causes me to drink, to bow down before and seek Refuge at the shrines of Jacobs Creek and Samuel Gawith (a pipe tobacco manufacturer)? Why do I endorse and sponsor industries that hospitalise over TWO MILLION of their British users EVERY year? That number is rising, by the way guys, in case you are wondering! Do I REALLY want to be lining the pockets of the alcohol industry and their lobby groups? People who genuinely don't care that their products KILL 11 BRITONS A DAY due to alcohol-related ACCIDENTS in their own homes? Please note, if you might be so kind, that these are ACCIDENTS, not alcohol-induced liver failure, or or alcohol-related cancer/cardiac arrests or even drink-driving! Lets us also reflect on the fact that these figures are only the REPORTED cases, as families will rarely admit to attending officers that alcohol is involved and so the coroners will record these deaths as simply accidental. The actual incident numbers could be three or four times higher - these figures are, to me, astounding! What about those doctors, nurses, ambulance crew and the police that go to work every day knowing with mind-numbing inevitably that tonight the will struggle to work with and look after those who just don't know when to stop? Or, worse still, the victims of those who don't know when to stop? Do I want to be condoning that? In extreme cases, do I also want to be continually helping this industry strengthen its hold on people who may be struggling with alcoholism? Financially and socially endorsing the unimaginable world of hell that ensues for the addict, their family and friends caught up in that toxic maelstrom of broken promises, homes, hearts and lives? 

No value judgements, but surely not the way forward either?

From a wider, less selfish, more socially aware perspective, the answer for me is clearly an affirmative "NO".  It would be too easy for me to say "well that's their problem, not mine" or "yes, but I'm not like that, one glass of wine a night wont hurt". As people in the West who are somewhat used to getting our own way, we are great at rationalising things to ourselves, and I'm as bad as the next person, don't get me wrong. If anything I'm worse, but that's my conditioning. Yours is your own, dear reader, and do you know what? It's not your fault! It's REALLY not! This is no witch-hunt, here there are no moral or value judgements on alcohol and tobacco, their users or even the people that run those industries. As Michael Douglas said in the 80's classic "Wall Street", "Greed is good". Lots of people feel that way still, and it's again more about their conditioning than being "bad people". I don't know how this will be received by people. I don't know if people will think that I'm trying to get them to stop drinking or smoking. I hope not, as the path of the individual must start with an individual's assessment of the situation. It must be based on their reason, logic and experiences, or in terms of being aligned with their view of reality. What that view may consist of, I do not know. What I do know however, is that without people asking these questions, then we will never wonder what the answers might be. Without investigating our suffering and, just as importantly, the wider suffering of our society as a whole, what chance do we stand of moving away from that suffering towards happiness, contentment? What hope have we of finding a stable, lasting Refuge from the inevitable turbulence of our busy lives, the proverbial port in the storm? Not much, I fear....

So, finally, back to my original idea of writing about my own experiences of detox hell, which started five weeks ago. I could accurately describe the process as follows; the "honeymoon" week (I felt SO much better,and to my shame, a little smug and self-satisfied, truth be told), followed by the week of continuous panic attacks, and I'm talking 12 hours a day, every day, of just unimaginable misery and distress. So much for being smug! This also preceded a week of mood swings. Anger, sadness, frustration, joy, depression, rapture - the whole gang pitched up with chest pains to spare for those moments when they needed a break from the excitement. Deep joy, this was not! Finally, a slow dissent into occasional anxious flutterings and skull-rupturing headaches. Added to the turmoil we should (in the interests of complete honesty) mention that I was given a prescription for Beta-Blockers (anti-anxiety/stress medication) which after two days of slurred speak, languor, fatigue etc just left me feeling stratospherically HIGH and detached from my experiences all the time. My heart was pounding in my throat, which was bone dry, my palms were sweating, but yet I felt little other than the vapid emptiness of being cheated out if something that was rightfully MINE. My unskillful actions through the years of abuse, my decision to stop the causes of my own suffering, my job to deal with the fallout. And deal with it I'm still trying to. I stopped the medication, preferring to face my experiences head on, and allowed my karma to bear it's Dharmic fruit as it saw fit. The headaches have now subsided to a gentle throb. The anxiety has by, and large gone, and I decided I needed a task to work on, to give myself focus to get me through the final tough stages (headaches, mood swings, occasional panic attacks etc). As luck would have it, an opportunity loomed, but we will have to save that for next time, for another, briefer blog... Just know that I'm doing well. If life is change, and all is impermanent, then let us rejoice. Within this ever-shifting flux, we can lay the stepping stones today to become (within reason) whatever we want tomorrow. Just remember to always check the way the winds are blowing...

Your ever-changing friend,

The Dharma-Farmer...

This article was inspired by and is dedicated to Arthaketu. He has given me the greatest gift of all. 
The gift of an uncertain tomorrow...

May any merit gained in my writing this article be dedicated to the alleviation of the suffering of all beings:

May all enjoy happiness and the causes of happiness,
May all be free from suffering and the causes of suffering.
May all one day experience the great happiness that is devoid of all suffering,
And dwell in the great equanimity that is free from craving or aversion.