Okay…so, here it is…I’m an addict. It’s not something that I’m particularly proud of, but I’m not afraid to admit it either. Be as judgmental as you’d like…I’m an addict and my addiction has made me a better person.
My addiction relaxes me. It helps me escape the stresses of life, expands my mind, shelters me in blissful solitude and at times fills me with an undeniable sense of incomparable euphoria. There are a lot of people out there that wouldn’t be able to tolerate the asshole that I can be if it weren’t for the calming serenity that the addiction from which I suffer provides. I don’t know if anyone but a true addict can speak to the harmonious feeling deep within themselves that the sounds and scents related to their addiction alone can provide.
I wouldn’t dare say that my addiction has made me more intelligent, but it has improved my ability to absorb education. It has helped me contemplate and understand the principles of thermodynamics, kinetic energy, pressure, velocity, gravity, energy conversion, and even the Coriolis Effect to a greater degree than any High School or College science course ever did. As well, my addiction opened my mind to the ways in which the raw power found in even the most subtle variances in the forces of nature affect every little aspect of a seemingly simple act…the effects of wind, temperature, rain and humidity correlate directly to the high my addiction can provide.
Addiction is constant across the board in one undeniable aspect…one thing leads to another. Once the mind is floating weightlessly through a tranquil sea of scientific principles, the math starts to rear it’s ugly head….and much like the science, I’ve gained a higher understanding of every mathematical principle they tried to shove down my throat in school. My addiction has provided me a path through the piles of musty text books and suffocating clouds of chalk dust to a region of unparalleled calm….where the principles of mathematics become applied, understood, and tested.
Had I not found myself wrapped in the warm, inviting arms of my addiction I would have probably never understood the ways in which something as subtle as the shallowest of human breaths, one single bead of sweat or even the mere beat of a human heart can directly impact the future of another living creature a half kilometer away…when thought of in that light, my addiction is more than something biological in nature…at times it’s on the cusp of something spiritual.
My addiction spills over into every aspect of my life. At times I’ll find myself unable to concentrate on the tasks before me due to my relentless need for a fix. My mind will fill me with reasons to feed this beast as I’m driving, mowing, cutting firewood…and hell, sleep is constantly postponed and interrupted due to this monkey I carry on my back.
Like all addicts I’ll tell you that my addiction only affects me. And like all addicts, I’d be lying. The money and time this affliction has cost my friends and family is immeasurable. Emotionally…my wife can smell the scent of my fix lingering on me when I walk in the house…sometimes it’s so pungent that she can’t even come near me….not even the glimmer in my eye or the smile on my lips can change her mind…she just looks at me and shakes her head.
I’d join a support group, but I keep getting told that the first step to battling addiction is admitting you have a problem, and to date, I really don’t think I have a problem. Shit…That’s what every addict says, isn’t it?
What’s that you ask? My drug of choice? Well, if I had to limit it to one specific substance I abuse, I’d have to say cordite.
You know….cordite.
cord·ite /ˈkôrˌdīt/ noun/ a smokeless explosive made from nitrocellulose, nitroglycerine, and petroleum jelly, used in ammunition.
But there’s a lot more to it than a substance abuse. My addiction is shooting, my friends….Pistols, Rifles, Shotguns, Muzzle-loaders, Bows, Crossbows…..hell, I’ve got a design for a wrist rocket (slingshot) I’m going to build that I think can be accurate at 10 meters.
Now, dammit…..don’t quit reading yet. Stick around for a minute because what I have to say is important.
Nothing I’ve written in this post is inaccurate in any way, shape or form. All the Science, Math and Spirituality stuff I wrote about is absolutely true. Chasing shooting perfection (Yeah…I’m still chasing…it’s going to be a long chase) is about as therapeutic an activity as I’ve ever known. Every tool that fires a projectile, whether it be a bullet or an arrow is different than the one beside it. Compound that with the fact that no two bullets or arrows are EXACTLY identical from the factory and it twists the science and math to a whole different dimension. If you’re not a shooter you’d be amazed at how much time you can invest into conducting research and application methods in trying to find the perfect projectile for the gun or bow you’re shooting. I’m in my happy place when I’m doing something as simple as trying to dial in a tighter shot group on a little .22 caliber rifle or trying to figure out why one arrow out of six hits an inch low of my point of aim every time. My mind races through all the different environmental factors, ballistic coefficients and human errors that play a part in every shot. You may not be able to comprehend it, but shooting really is a mind, body and soul art form. Yeah…that’s right…I called it an art form…and anyone who’s chased a stray shooting rifle all day and had a friend pick it up a minute later and keyhole two shots simultaneously will know what I mean.
I’m not writing this as an argument for gun rights. It’s not my job to tell you how to feel about things like that. It’s on you to do the research, apply the logic and make your own decisions.
But I am writing this because I’m an addict. I come from a family full of addicts. Alcohol and Tobacco for the most part, but addicts nonetheless. I learned from an early age that I was susceptible to addiction…I think it’s just in our nature for some of us. I was a smoker for the better part of 30 years. I’m still a smoker….personally, I think once you’re a smoker, you’re always a smoker…but I smoke on rare occasion now. I still use tobacco, but I don’t infuse my lungs with it. I learned early in life that I could drink socially and to excess occasionally but really needed to be aware of my consumption. In my early 20’s I wrecked my knees running…I couldn’t control the addiction…I didn’t know how to run distance, I just started doing it and was racking up too many miles and basically pounded my knees into a swollen submission every time I laced up the sneakers. I became a gym addict in my late 20’s and 30’s and couldn’t control that either….it resulted in four shoulder surgeries, chronic tendinitis in damn near every joint in my body, and a metric ton of arthritis in my back and hands.
However…somewhere along the line I realized that even though I had an addict’s nature, I could choose where to channel those addictive tendencies. For each and every reason I listed in the first half of this post, the constant and relentless pursuit of the perfect shot is what does it for me.
Being an addict doesn’t have to be a negative thing, friends. The key is finding that one thing….that one pursuit that has a positive effect on your mind, body and spirit. The quest for perfection in something that doesn’t do your mind, body or spirit harm….gardening, quilt-making, woodworking, baking….the list is endless and damn near all inclusive. The trick is to not let society tell you that your addiction is any better or worse than others. Only you will know what makes you feel right about being you.
So….now that I’ve written this whole damn post I realize it could’ve been summed up in an old adage: PICK YOUR POISON.
But, choose wisely my friends….I speak from experience.