See, I thought I was so clever borrowing this concept from natural history to describe the human condition, and just last month came across a delightful Meditative Story, “Writing the Main Character”  by Franklin Leonard, using “punctuated equilibrium” in exactly the same way. Great minds, I guess. Still, I thought I was so clever. To borrow another phrase from biology, think of it as convergent evolution – two similar ideas arising independently. 

Where does change come from? How do people grow? I honestly don’t know. I’ve experienced a lot of growth myself, and still couldn’t tell you much about it. On the one hand, I can endorse steady improvement – that I’ve grown as a person one meditation session, one journal entry, one support group meeting at a time. 

On the other hand, I’ve experienced that these daily practices can stop having the effect they once did. I’ve experienced a dramatic un-growing – that I’ve backslid into practices that are more like the mindless, distracted person who used to eat and drink her time away and get loaded instead of doing anything that sounded like growth. I’m in a period like this now, and it’s hurtful and mystifying – what have I lost hold of that used to keep me so sustained? What am I doing now that is more like the Me that Used to Drink?

Biologists debate long and hard about evolutionary theories. On the one hand, there’s gradualism – slow, steady change. On the other hand, there’s punctuated equilibrium – long periods of stasis marked by times of chaos resulting in big changes. Probably where a person’s psychological growth is concerned, it’s some of each. Doing a little every day helps things along. Entropy results when daily practices stop propelling change. Backsliding leads to a brief, mighty effort to get back on course. Dramatic external events lead to an explosive need for rapid change. Seems to work that way with me, anyway. 

And the idea that people experience cycles in their efforts to grow – well, that shouldn’t surprise anyone. It’s a recursive process. I find myself returning to the same wisdom over and over, wondering why I have to find the same insight again – why didn’t it just become a permanent part of how I interact with the world? But here I am, discovering the same truths again. 

And I have had plenty of experience with feeling like I have a problem licked, only to see it return. Usually, as soon as I resolve to re-engage the practices that have helped me in the past, and take immediate steps toward living out this resolve, I feel better right away. Not today. I know how far I’ve moved backward, and it feels like a lot of time and a lot of work before I will start seeing progress. I have a tiny bit of hope that the feeling of momentum is more resilient than I’m anticipating – that after a few days of effort, I’ll feel like I’m making progress already.   

Big recovery communities have a phrase, that we are never cured from addiction. Instead, “What we really have is a daily reprieve contingent on the maintenance of our spiritual condition.” (AA Big Book, p. 85). I can say that my own spiritual condition has been badly ill-tended sometimes. I keep up my meditation practice, but I’m complacent instead of self-examining, I’m self-absorbed instead of compassionate with others – all those ways of being a small, self-involved person. I’ve felt that I’m a less powerful, less insightful person now than I was a year ago. I’ve un-grown, and I feel like an addict – constantly looking for the next thing to eat, the next drug, the next episode of Teen Mom (my addictions take a few familiar forms). My spiritual condition won’t withstand much more neglect, so it’s time to get back to work. 

Here are some daily practices that keep me tending my spiritual garden:

• I meditate, shooting for 2 times a day for 30 minutes total.
• I write a long list of things I’m grateful for in the morning.
• I write as long a list as I can of awesome things that happened that day. The list always includes, I didn’t binge eat, I didn’t drink, and I didn’t smoke. Unless, of course, I did. Extra awesome things go on a weekly awesomeness list.
• I read at least a few minutes of recovery literature nearly every night. 
• I reflect at the end of every week and every month how things went, and how I want to do things differently for the next cycle. 

What do you do to keep yourself moving forward? I’d love to steal some ideas from you!