With my compliments

I love listening to other people recovering from addictions talk about their sobriety. It seems like they always say one of two things about their rebirth. Either it has been great and they can’t imagine a better life, or every single day has been an intense struggle to stay sober.

I think it’s so interesting that addicts seem to subscribe to one extreme or the other. I find it difficult to identify with only one extreme.

In fact I tend to see life as a bit of a roller coaster in a bipolar sort of fashion. Most of the time I’m high on life, living carefree and tending to my responsibilities with ease. At other times I can barely muster the strength to exist.

Today I have experienced both. At my high points I achieved every goal for the day and in my lows I retreated to the protection of my inner thoughts. By the end of the day I needed to experience no more hurt. I needed to nurture one else’s anger. I needed to find a release for the negative energy I had somehow accumulated throughout the day.

After reviewing my day I might be inclined to label this a “bad” day. Low points overcame high ones, sorrow defeated happiness, and insecurity won out over confidence. However, after a recent lesson by a trusted friend, I am not nearly as inclined to draw such a quick conclusion. As it turns out, I had been suffering from a chronic case of modern westernized thought. I was quick to associate a negative feeling with the day. In contrast, I would compare it to what I’d assume is the natural opposite, a good day.

My trusted friend brought about a new concept in thinking, however. It seems that the opposite of what I’m used to is actually the compliment to it: Ancient eastern thought. That is, there is really no such thing as an opposite. Think about opposites for a moment. What is the relationship between day and night? Hot and cold? Light and dark? Male and female? Fun and unpleasant? We quickly label the relationships as “opposite,” in opposition to or contradictory. In this frame of mind the merging of the two creates great conflict as mortal enemies would clash in battle.

This is rarely the case. The reality is that each of these opposite relationships are actually not opposite at all, but complimentary. In the same way as we accept the romantic belief that opposites attract, the relationship between a man and woman is complimentary, not opposite. There is (usually) no battle when man and woman are joined in unity.

The same logic applies to night and day. When the two meet there is no conflict. There is no violent reaction. What there is instead is a sunset, or a sunrise, a beautiful merging of assumed enemies. How would we know what one is without the other? If there was no night, how would we know the difference from day? Furthermore, how would we ever know to appreciate the sun if we never knew darkness, or vice versa? And how would we ever know and appreciate happiness if we did not know grief? Grief compliments happiness because without it we wouldn’t even know happiness existed.

So next time I think a “bad” thought or feel an “unpleasant” feeling, I need not be so critical of it. The emotion associated with it is not negative at all, it is merely a compliment to a positive feeling. It exists for two reasons, first to motivate me toward a rewarding emotion, and second to teach me to appreciate and enjoy that reward while I have it.