My relationship with God is a huge element of my personal recovery. I've seen significant differences in my quality of life and in my ability to move through difficult moments when I'm actively engaged in relationship with the source of unconditional love I call God — versus when I am not.
God may not be a comfortable subject for most people to discuss or consider in their healing journeys, so I want to share a bit of my experience. Take what resonates and leave the rest.
In early recovery, I was part of a 12-step program which allowed me to explore the concept of "God" in any way I saw fit. There was no pressure or expectation for my understanding to be any one specific thing — and that resonated with me. At first, connecting with God felt like a natural call-out to something that could help me because I had lost all my own strength. I had no idea what I was calling out to, but every morning and every night I would drop to my knees and ask this unseen energy to help me.
When I reconnect spiritually, I can source the infinitely accessible power of light within me. I realise that this light is never gone — it is available in an instant whenever I choose — but that I must choose it. Without actively choosing love, I am prone to fall into hate, shame, guilt, and ego.
I once heard someone say that "holiness" was a derivative of words like wholeness, healing, and "other than." When I was still unsure what God meant to me, I rested in these words. I imagined praying to something that made me whole, that healed me, and that was not me. This felt very powerful, because part of the problem of addiction lies around issues of identity. I find out who I am by learning what I am not, and by being able to relate to that otherness in a healthy way.
The practice of contemplative prayer
If there is one star tool in my recovery, it is the act of contemplative prayer.
In the beginning, all I knew was a desperate need to remove the darkness from my soul. But as my recovery has progressed, I find contemplative prayer to be an eye opener and game changer.
God created us to be inherently curious. At our purest (as infants) we are constantly in awe of things — always on a mission to find out how something works, testing our limitations. It is the same in the realm of the spirit. When we engage in curious contemplation, we can find immense growth.
In contemplative prayer, instead of saying "God, take this away from me!" I can move into: "God, what is this highlighting for me?" or "What is this situation contributing to my sacred purpose in life?"
It also helps in day-to-day practicalities. When I notice insecurity arising, I can ask: "I wonder what part of me is being affected here? I wonder what I need to let go of? I wonder how I can embody love in this reaction?" I get curious about the nature of my responses, and therefore I have expansiveness — room to grow, room to soften, room to move into grace.
My personal belief is that there is a deeply spiritual element to disordered eating that transcends the physical. When we start addressing our spiritual selves — in whatever form that takes, as long as it is a space of wholeness, healing, and love — transformation begins.
If you have never considered what a relationship with something Holy could do in your life, I encourage you to get curious and contemplative. Spend time with the unanswered questions, even if they are scary to sit with. Simply by sitting with your questions, you open up the space for them to be resolved.
Give yourself the time to be contemplative — in a non-judgmental space. Just as a child finds awe in the simplest things, you can too. It will transform you from the dark space of disordered eating into a space of infinite possibility for light to enter.