There’s a book called, “Alice Cooper, Golf Monster.” Great title, right? In addition to being a well-told series of stories, it has some great lessons about how to rebuild your life. Especially when what you’re currently doing, just isn’t working.
I have the feeling that I could be living a lot better than I currently am. Weirdly, it’s not that there’s any one thing going horribly wrong, and if that thing were different, everything else would be perfect. Instead, it’s a lingering discontent, a creeping grayness where there used to be lots of life and color…it’s ennui…
This “could be better, but ehhh…” feeling is made of many small moments that I wish were slightly different. But these moments are fleeting, and it’s hard to know what’s actually missing, let alone do something about it.
Which brings me back to Alice Cooper. In the book, he talks about a similar experience he had as a touring rock-star. Just kind of uninspired, worn out, and depleted. This was actually when his career was going really well. He and the band were getting along well, selling out huge stadiums, and making truckloads of cash. Fans loved him. And actually, he said the shows themselves were fun, but everything else was such a drag that he found himself drinking more and more beer to get through the boring parts.
This escalated and relatively quickly he was drinking hard liquor throughout all hours of the day. He took no breaks, had no life. Only work, and booze.
Eventually, this led to a breaking point, and he put himself into a treatment center, did some 12 Step work, and got sober. I think he did this a couple times. But he still had a problem.
Without drinking, he’d get up in the morning and have nothing to do. He didn’t perform until 8 pm, usually, which gave him 12-14 extra hours a day that he had previously filled with drinking. Only instead of drinking, he had nothing. This wasn’t conducive to his sobriety, and it wasn’t conducive to having a great life either.
Then one day, a friend took him golfing, and that changed everything. Alice Cooper was just as intense and addictive in his behaviors as he ever was, but he’d found something to fill his day and maintain his attention. In fact, much like his journey with alcohol, his new addiction expanded similarly to occupy his life. He began playing 36 holes each morning, 7 days a week. Seriously, 2 full rounds of golf, first thing, every day. Rain or shine, touring or not, he was either on the course or at the driving range. And fueled by the same obsession he had previously poured into drinking, he got really, really good at golf.
Now, in many respects, Alice Cooper and I have very little in common. I’m no rock star. And Cooper seems blessed/cursed with a level of intensity that I don’t fully relate to. But there’s always a lesson to be found.
As we approach a new year, I think a lot of us are reflecting on our lives, and evaluating if there’s anything we’d like to change. New Year’s resolutions notoriously fail by February, though. And usually, we realize why we aren’t already doing the thing we aspire to. It’s hard, it’s unpleasant, it clashes with our other habits and hobbies, it’s not actually as important we thought…the list goes on.
The lesson from Cooper is this: if you want to drop something from your life, you need to replace it with something else. Attempting to white-knuckle your way to your goal is not a winning strategy. It’s hard, takes willpower, and it just isn’t any fun.
Imagine Alice Cooper, sitting on the bed in his hotel room, with nothing to do but sit there and think about how much he’d like a drink. Imagine how his mind twists and rationalizes to make that one thing seem not only irresistible, but reasonable. “Just one beer, what’s the harm? I used to drink 30 of these a day. I’d barely feel it. I probably wouldn’t even notice I’d had one. In fact, that would just prove to me how in-control I am of alcohol now. That would be a really good move for my recovery, to prove that I can stop after just one beer. And good thing I built up such a tolerance before, this will be even easier. No one else would even have to know…”
It’s madness. But it’s what we’re left with when we try to kick an old habit without something to replace it with. Hopefully your old habit isn’t as consuming or destructive as Cooper’s. And if it is, you’ve got more courage than most of us.
For myself, I’d like to drop a few things from my life, especially the way I spend my evenings. I’d like to drop sugar, tv, and video games from my life. These are the things I consume obsessively and compulsively. Often, this bingeing is an attempt to cope with that sense of boredom and discontent I mentioned earlier. These things provide momentary relief, but like all addictions, ultimately exacerbate the original problem.
Mostly, these aren’t an issue during the day because I have other things to do. Better things. But at night, I’m tired (which is normal), I want to relax (which is good), rest (which is good), and get ready for a good night’s sleep (which is good). TV seems like it should help me unwind and relax. Except, after a TV binge, I don’t feel relaxed or rested or happy. The next morning, I rarely think, “boy that was a great night of TV, what a life!” I usually don’t even sleep well.
Yet, without TV, how would I spend my evenings? What do I do when I want an escape? What do I do when I’m sad and I don’t want to feel sad? Or lonely? Or tired? Or stressed?
Not only is there a gap of time left unfilled, but there are myriad other needs that I’ve been using TV to address. These are unaddressed needs, to be clear, TV doesn’t actually fulfill them. But it does help me forget that they are unaddressed. I’ve been self-medicating with television. How weird!
Yet, I fantasize about how I might spend that time instead, what I’ll be forced to do if I give up TV watching for a day. How do I deal with all those other needs that are drowned out by the television’s glow? How do I spend that time?
This might require a re-think to how I spend my whole day, and especially my evenings. I want to be able to do outdoor hobbies and other fun things, which require sunlight. But there’s mostly only sunlight during my work day. So I’ll need to change my work schedule, and probably my sleep schedule to help make this change.
Maybe I can cut my evenings short to shrink that window of temptation. Maybe I’ll go to bed earlier.
How can I spend that time instead? Maybe I can work at playing bass, or read a book. Maybe I need to tell myself it’s ok to spent any amount of money I want to on books so that I spend less time watching tv. Books are a healthier addiction, I think. And the cost of my time is far greater than the cost of a book.
Maybe in the evenings I need to meditate more. Maybe I need to cook more. Maybe I need to schedule time to talk with friends. Maybe I should attend a yoga class, or visit a sauna. Maybe board games.
Maybe even earlier in the day, I need to be doing things that don’t leave me craving fun and novelty at night. Maybe I need to get up and go golfing before work, or take a long lunch to go to a museum, or carve out time early in the day for creative work.
Same thing for socializing.
Same thing for self-reflection. Usually I’m too tired to engage or sort through all those different feelings. It might help to do more journaling and meditation earlier in the day. First thing in the morning, I might have the energy and the mental sharpness to work through some otherwise-exhausting issues I’ve been carrying around.
In some ways, it’s easier to add better habits and drop worse habits at the same time than it is to drop a habit cold turkey. You create a void, and immediately fill it with something healthy. This takes some self-awareness I think, because you have to recognize what need your current behavior is attempting to fulfill, as well as what improvement you hope to enjoy as a result of the new behavior.
Alice Cooper is an intense guy, in good ways and in bad ways. He was obsessive about drinking, and now he’s obsessive about golf. I think that’s encouraging for me, because if he’s able to force himself to let go of drinking (which is something most alcoholics can’t do on their own. From what I understand, anyway), and find something new and equally compelling to replace it with, then maybe I can find something constructive too.