The adjacent possible and hope

I heard a radio show this morning about where ideas come from.

They interviewed a guy who wrote a book and gave a TED talk on the topic.

During the interview he discussed the concept of the adjacent possible and it’s importance in forming new ideas. During the interview, he described it as the building blocks of new ideas. Without the right building blocks, any innovation is not possible. He described it another way in a WSJ article:

The adjacent possible is a kind of shadow future, hovering on the edges of the present state of things, a map of all the ways in which the present can reinvent itself.

The strange and beautiful truth about the adjacent possible is that its boundaries grow as you explore them. Each new combination opens up the possibility of other new combinations. Think of it as a house that magically expands with each door you open. You begin in a room with four doors, each leading to a new room that you haven’t visited yet. Once you open one of those doors and stroll into that room, three new doors appear, each leading to a brand-new room that you couldn’t have reached from your original starting point. Keep opening new doors and eventually you’ll have built a palace.

During the interview, he pointed out that it doesn’t matter how smart one is, it was not possible to invent a microwave in 1650, because the building blocks, the adjacent possible, just wasn’t there.

One factor is that the physical building blocks did not exist. The other factor is that the imaginative/inspiration building blocks did not exist.

This reminded me of a metaphor Bill White once used when talking about hope-engendering relationships offering kindling for hope.

I think this helps explain the resistance some recovery advocates have to interventions focused on something other than drug-free recovery. There’s a sense of how precious this adjacent possible is, and how easy it is to imagine a world where drug-free recovery is not possible because the adjacent possible has been lost.

Bill White on “Symbolic Firsts”

Bill White had a very interesting post a while back on the concept of “symbolic firsts” and how it relates to recovery advocacy and recovery initiation.

The concept is based on the idea that:

. . . the pioneering achievement of a single individual from a historically marginalized group affects the self-identity, aspirations, and performance of other members of that group as well as culturally dominant attitudes toward members of that group (e.g., the effects of Barack Obama’s 2008 election on the academic performance of African American children and attitudes toward African Americans).

This reminded me of an interview I heard on the radio and a previous post on the concept of “the adjacent possible”.

During the interview he discussed the concept of the adjacent possible and it’s importance in forming new ideas. During the interview, he described it as the building blocks of new ideas. Without the right building blocks, any innovation is not possible. He described it another way in a WSJ article:

The adjacent possible is a kind of shadow future, hovering on the edges of the present state of things, a map of all the ways in which the present can reinvent itself.

The strange and beautiful truth about the adjacent possible is that its boundaries grow as you explore them. Each new combination opens up the possibility of other new combinations. Think of it as a house that magically expands with each door you open. You begin in a room with four doors, each leading to a new room that you haven’t visited yet. Once you open one of those doors and stroll into that room, three new doors appear, each leading to a brand-new room that you couldn’t have reached from your original starting point. Keep opening new doors and eventually you’ll have built a palace.

During the interview, he pointed out that it doesn’t matter how smart one is, it was not possible to invent a microwave in 1650, because the building blocks, the adjacent possible, just wasn’t there.

One factor is that the physical building blocks did not exist. The other factor is that the imaginative/inspiration building blocks did not exist.

Bill links the concept to hope and recovery initiation:

Symbolic firsts in recovery stand as a living invitation for individuals, families, and communities affected by addiction and a source of motivation and guidance for those seeking and living in recovery. Through their achievements, symbolic firsts expand the roles and community spaces in which people seeking and in recovery can envision themselves.  Symbolic firsts in recovery diminish the community cues conveying that people in recovery do not belong in particular positions or places. They offer living proof of what can be achieved in recovery and the principles and strategies of how such achievements have been and can be made in the context of recovery.

But Bill doesn’t stop there. He calls on those us us in stable recovery to out ourselves to reduce stigma, inspire hope and make the adjacent possible known.

Symbolic firsts in recovery achieve such status by acts of destruction (tearing down historical barriers of exclusion and their supporting machinery) and acts of creation (forging new niches and styles through which people in recovery can personally excel and socially achieve and contribute).

Symbolic firsts in recovery eschew “passing” (hiding concealable stigma for personal advantage) to achieve a higher social goal–even in the face of personal challenges and socially-imposed limits on opportunities that can potentially flow from this decision.  Symbolic firsts face extremes of experience different in nature and intensity than others who will subsequently fill the space that the trailblazers created. As a result, symbolic firsts in recovery need the full support of communities of recovery.

 

Above criticism

Bill White on varieties of secular AA experiences.

The ongoing evolution of A.A.’s story — its history — suggests that the fellowship will meet this challenge by finding ways to adapt to both religious renewal movements and cultural trends toward secularization without losing its essential character.

But “suggest” is all that history can do. The fundamental question for the future of Alcoholics Anonymous — which necessarily includes the present — is whether its Tradition that having “a desire to stop drinking” remains “the only requirement for A.A. membership” OR if membership becomes reserved exclusively for those who adhere to a verbatim interpretation of the Twelve Steps as they were written in 1939.

In short, will A.A. be able to find ways to embrace more “varieties” – or not?

Characteristics of the best treatment programs

In that Points interview, Bill White is asked about the treatment provider that he would choose for a loved one.

I receive calls every day from people asking variations of these questions. There isn’t a universally “best program.” What we are looking for is the best match between the characteristics of a particular person at a particular point in time and the characteristics of a treatment setting at that same point in time. What could be the best choice for one person would not necessarily be a good choice for another, and a good match today might not be so a year from now—because both individual/family needs and organizational capabilities evolve dynamically. But those best matches do seem to share some common characteristics: accessibility; affordability; organizational and workforce stability; individualized, evidence-based, and family-focused care; a recovery-infused service milieu; effective linkage to recovery community resources; and sustained support for both the individual and the family. What also matters as much as the treatment approach and the treatment institution is the primarily clinician who will be providing that treatment. Recovery outcomes vary widely from counselor to counselor.

Interesting to see affordability on that list. Again, I’m grateful to be part of a place that resembles this description.

sustained guidance into full cultural participation

I’ve posted recently on the role of class in addiction, policy, treatment and recovery. Here are a couple of sentences from Bill White on the topic.

Those individuals needing professionally directed addiction treatment suffer from more than a singular, encapsulated problem with alcohol or other drugs. Need for addiction treatment—particularly prolonged or repeated treatment—is often a proxy for cultural marginalization and the need for sustained guidance into full cultural participation.

The hardiness of AA

Bill White and Ernie Kurtz  examine the factors contributing to AA’s resilience in the face of steady attacks

Attacking Alcoholics Anonymous (A.A.) and 12-step oriented addiction treatment has become a specialized industry with its own genre of literature, celebrity authors and speakers, single-focus websites, and promoted alternatives.  Collectively, these critics suggest that A.A. is an anachronism whose effectiveness has been exaggerated and whose time in the sun has passed.  A.A.’s institutional response to these  criticisms has been a consistent pattern of private self-reflection (e.g., Bill Wilson’s “Our Critics can be Our Benefactors”) and public silence (e.g., no opinion on outside controversial issues, personal anonymity at level of press, and public relations based on attraction rather than promotion–as dictated by A.A.’s Traditions).

The concept of organizational resilience suggests not just an institution’s longevity, but the capacity to survive in the face of significant threats to its character and existence.  Such threats faced by A.A., including the intensity and endurance of polemical assaults on A.A., raise the question of how A.A. survived these challenges to become such a dominant cultural force.

Bill and Ernie identify 7 factors. Among them is scientific validity. Read them here.

Recovery Checkups

Bill White on efforts to develop and implement recovery check-up protocols:

There is one sentence in the Standards that deserves particular acknowledgement:  “Recovery check-ups by addiction specialist physicians, just as those by primary care physicians or other providers, may promote sustained recovery and prevent relapse” (p. 13).

. . . The “recovery check-up” language marks an important milestone in the history of addiction medicine and the history of ASAM.  Projects are underway in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and Ann Arbor, Michigan [That’s us at Dawn Farm!] to develop recovery checkup protocol for primary care physicians.  Those projects mark the next step in integrating addiction treatment and primary medicine and the next step in extending acute care models of addiction treatment to models of sustained recovery management.

Imagine a day when everyone entering recovery will have an addiction-trained primary care physician and an addiction medicine specialist as sustained resources through the long-term recovery process.

via Recovery Checkups | Blog & New Postings | William L. White.

“narrative truth”

This reminded me of something from Bill White.

At the heart of Perry’s argument — in line with neurologist Oliver Sacks’s recent meditation on memory and how “narrative truth,” rather than “historical truth,” shapes our impression of the world — is the recognition that stories make us human and learning to reframe our interpretations of reality is key to our experience of life

Bill said the following in Pathways [emphasis mine]:

Each person’s life is series of events and experiences. Those events to which one attributes special meaning get selected, abstracted, and massaged into stories that communicate to others the nature of one’s identity. Identity – that sculpted perception of self in relationship to the outside world at any given moment – springs from and is in turn shaped by storytelling. Life is a continuing process through which one adds new elements to his personal story, eliminates old elements from the story that no longer fit, and revises the old story to achieve new meaning. Story Construction forms the bridge between self perception and one’s self-presentation to others.

One’s story places oneself in a particular relationship with the world. The construction of personal history shapes both present and future. It is the justification and defense of one’s existential position. It can dictate the lines one has in a play with terrifying predictability. Each of us plays out the scenes and chapters in our lives in line with the motifs embedded within our own story. The construction of the past shapes the future. By telling you who I am, I tell you my fate. To change my fate, I must redefine who I am; I must reconstruct my story.

Many addicts have a carefully constructed life story that portrays them as being victimized by people and forces and conditions over which they have no control. The “victim” status and role serve as a righteous justification for continued self-destruction through addiction. It is as if revenge against the world can be achieved through obliteration of oneself. Through treatment and recovery, the addict’s history must be reconstructed, portraying the individual not as a victim but as an active player who contributed to the past through personal choices. Addicts present their history through stories of what the world did to them; recovering addicts speak of who they were, what they did, what they valued, and how they thought. Projection of blame is replaced by taking personal responsibility for ones past.

When the addict begins to disengage from the world of addiction, his or her personal story must be reconstructed. The old story will not enhance recovery; it provides permission for relapse. For recovery, the addict must be helped to reconstruct the story of his or her life – a story that will reflect a different conception of self, a different view of the world and a new value system. An essential milestone of recovery is the sobriety-based construction of one’s story. The story that will get the addict through the early months of sobriety will continue to evolve throughout the recovering addict’s life.

It is not particularly necessary that the first story constructed by the addict in treatment or early recovery be factually correct. Factual omissions and distortions are to be expected. It is necessary that the addict’s life be reframed within the story in a manner that supports recovery. The self-story in recovery must be different than the self-story in addiction. Whether factually true or not, the self-story in recovery must be metaphorically true. The story must give some meaning to one’s own suffering. The story must explain the suffering that one has caused others. Factual truth – which the addict may be incapable of in the earliest days of recovery – is secondary to emotional truth. The freedom achieved through purging the emotional content of the story and the power of the injunction for change that emerges from the story should take precedence over factual accuracy. As recovery proceeds, the story will evolve in ways that bring factual and emotional truth closer and closer together.

For me, a critical part of reconstructing my story was reconstructing my stories about the world I lived in and the people in it. My narratives that people would/could not understand and the dangers of vulnerability might have been more challenging to change than my narratives about who I was.

Related articles

• The Masks of Addiction and Recovery (addictionandrecoverynews.wordpress.com)
• Iron Man: Addiction and the Lives We Tell (blogs.scientificamerican.com)

 

Why FULL recovery should ALWAYS be our goal

Yesterday, we shared Bill White’s views on the dangers of under-treating addiction. Today, we have Viktor Frankl on the importance of high expectations and addressing the need for meaning and purpose in the lives of people we’re helping.

If we overestimate man…we promote him to what he really can be. … We have to be idealists…we wind up as realists…

If we take man as he is, we make him worse – but if we take man as he should be, we make him capable of becoming what he can be.

If you don’t recognize a young man’s will to meaning, man’s search for meaning, you make him worse, you make him dull, you make him frustrated…

The Masks of Addiction and Recovery

I’m a fan of pretty much anything Bill White writes, but this is the kind of thing I most enjoy:

To be addicted is to be an imposter -to wear so many masks for so long that any semblance of a true self exists only as a faint memory.  The masks become thickly layered and more elaborately constructed over time,  each seeking to convey sanity and self-control as these very qualities crumble to ashes.  The masks often become prisons of one’s own creation.

Escaping this state of imprisoned imposterhood requires facing the terror of nothingness–the terror that nothing, or at least nothing of value, exists behind the masks.  This dread is so great it can rarely be faced alone.  There is no landscape more terrifying to the addicted person than the secret-strewn wreckage of his or her own soul.  Confronting that landscape without the aid of fellow travelers can provoke breakthroughs of self-perception and self-repugnance so overwhelming that few can traverse and survive this territory alone.

The good news today is that no one need make this journey alone.  No one need die from staring into a mirror and seeing only pain, numbness or nothingness staring back.  Communities of recovery are spreading around the globe and can be quickly accessed by a phone call or computer click.  The journey shared is not an easy one, but it is one that can be filled with joy and great meaning and purpose.  Put simply, a future day is possible when you can be comfortable within your own skin and when your lost self will be recovered or, more likely, a new self will be forged.  Recovery is a process of rebuilding the self–one piece at a time, one moment at a time.

. . .

There is something deeply human about recovering from one’s deepest wounds. Recovery is simultaneously a retrieval of lost parts of the self, discovery of previously hidden resources within and beyond the self, and a conscious reconstruction of character and identity. To become a person in recovery requires first becoming a person–a real person. There is much to be learned from this process of rebirth and self-acceptance–this spirituality of imperfection.

via The Masks of Addiction and Recovery | Blog & New Postings | William L. White.