The speaker at last Sunday’s meeting told how she, in addition to attending 12-step meetings, was also seeing a psychiatrist. She said she believed in getting all the help she could to resolve her problems and get her life on track.

One thing she said resonated with many of us at the meeting: while psychiatry can enhance one’s recovery it is expensive compared to 12-step programs - which are free unless one counts the amount we sometimes put in the basket.

I agreed. I once spent a year in a state hospital in California to resolve a drug-related probation violation. While there, I lived in a 24 hour therapeutic community, exposed to nearly 9,000 hours of therapy. Yet, when discharged I stopped and picked up a six-pack to drink on the way home. While taxpayers footed the bill for my treatment it was still costly in terms of the time I spent not working and supporting my children.

Once I entered a 12-step program and admitted I was an alcoholic, life changed. I stopped going to jail or being homeless. I had money, a car, a job and self-respect. My whole life changed and it didn’t cost me anything more than the time I spent going to meetings.

In terms of mental health I believe participation in 12-step programs will resolve the issues faced by most substance abusers - and at minimal cost compared to psychiatry.

We addicts and alcoholics often have difficulty keeping balance. A good friend, sober for many years, comes to mind. He works a strong program, attends meetings, but also works about 60 to 70 hours a week. His work ethic is full speed ahead until he succumbs to exhaustion.

I understand him, because I also have difficulty with balance. It probably the addictive part of my personality: if a little bit is good, then more is better. And a lot more is a lot better.

Even though I've been sober for over 20 years, keeping balance is at times difficult. On one hand I have goals for myself - and for TLC. And sometimes, when I'm unaware, these goals transform into obsessions.

So how do we find balance? With a schedule? Do we work so many hours a day and so many days a week? Because some days work gets done in half a day. Other days business and life intervene. Then there aren't enough hours in the day to complete everything. There are no easy answers.

One solution is self-awareness. There are times when I walk away when tired or frustrated. I don't have the obsessive need I had years ago to complete it right now. The key is self-awareness. Sometimes I lose self-awareness when phone calls stream in and people are knocking on the office door. There are moments when I'm able to say whoa, but not always. Sometimes the responsibilities of life come rolling in so fast that awareness go out the window.

But this blog started out with my friend and his situation. What do I do about a friend who goes through these cycles of hard work, then crashes from overwork and stress? If I'm a caring, loving friend, I'll do what I have to about changing his situation. Maybe I'll put him on a rigid work schedule, so he can’t wear himself out. I guess the real question is how do I not interfere with my friend’s independence yet still be a responsible employer?

Yesterday one of our managers said he was suffering from a “spiritual malady.”

I asked him to elaborate and he said it was about money. To help him sort out what was going on I questioned him further.

“You have a place to live?” I asked. He lived in a comfortable apartment in one of our newer facilities.

“Enough to eat?” He seemed well nourished and agreed he had plenty of food.
He also had money in his pocket to meet his basic needs.

As we went down the list it seemed the universe had provided - not everything he wanted - but everything he needed. Plus he was enjoying the longest period of sobriety he’d experienced.

On a deep level he knew his needs were met, and knew his drug addiction was his real issue. His disease was telling him deserved more.

I ask clients who are obsessing about money to view life differently. Our consumer media seduces us through advertising to want more. We’ll be happier driving this hot car or draped in this designer clothing. Or living at the country club, or carrying this exotic credit card. We absorb subliminal images of satisfied people enjoying these golden enticements and we become restless to possess them. But that’s not reality.

Reality is that my three year old get Prius gets me from A to B just as well as Bill Gates’ limo gets him to his office. Donald Trump’s roof probably keeps the water off of his head about as good as mine does. My closet is populated mostly with clothes from discount stores and not much from Nordstrom’s. But no one ever says I look like crap. They don’t care what I’m wearing; they’re interested in what they’re wearing.

We purge ourselves of spiritual maladies by living by real values. Money and the things we acquire with money are not intrinsically evil. But neither are they an end in themselves. If we live only for the material – setting aside the spiritual – then we’re going to be very dissatisfied when the exigencies of life take our stuff away.

Those who live by spiritual values – and who pursue material things based on needs as opposed to wants - are much happier. And they may stay sober longer.

A friend was talking to me the other day about her daughter, a talented artist who's never had a long-term job and has lived at home much of her life.

The daughter's 30 years old and busy pursuing her dream of being a superstar, a goal the mother supports. The friend, who's raising younger children from a second marriage, is frustrated. She often fights with the daughter about money and getting a job. She asked me what I thought about the situation because the daughter is at times verbally abusive, drinks and smokes marijuana. She sometimes returns early in the morning after a night of partying.

My advice was to evict the daughter. The idea of a capable 30 year old living at home is irresponsible on the mother's part. The daughter's only doing what the mother allows. She knows her dream of future stardom motivates the mother to support her for as long as it takes.

She should give the daughter a deadline to find a job and move into her own apartment. When we don't allow people to grow we participate in their irresponsibility.

If we look out the window we can see mother birds teaching their babies to fly - and they do it when they're young.

One of our out-of-state clients was complaining because our website says "if you want your life back we make it easy." He said he had a different idea of what the program was like when he read the website. He thought it would be a lot easier to be in recovery than it was when he got here.

I explained to him that he probably read that sentence one way, while we meant it another way. I told him he probably took it to mean that we were something like Betty Ford clinic. Or one of those programs that are located on a beach somewhere populated by clients with Colgate smiles, clear eyes and styled hair. He probably had a vision of waiters bringing his breakfast tray to his room, where he was being gently awakened with soft music.

What we meant by that line, "if you want your life back we make it easy," is we give everyone the opportunity to recover. We accept anyone, as long as they're not a sex offender or an arsonist. They don't need money to get in. They don't need a job to be accepted. Nor do they need insurance. All a potential client needs to get into TLC is a willingness to follow directions and a desire to change. And compared to what it takes to get into some programs, we do make it easy.

I tell people there are few places in this country where one can live for $110 a week. You can't go to Motel 6 for $110 a week. You might be able to stay for two days for $110. And you definitely won't get meals or support for sobriety. Plus, you need money up-front to get in.

I usually explain to unhappy or disillusioned clients that we don't ask anyone to do anything at TLC that the ordinary person doesn't do in daily life. The average citizen works to pay bills. He or she has a responsibility for their children. They must do their laundry and clean the house, simple everyday mundane functions of life.

But in the final analysis the real issue with people who complain about our program is not about program quality. It's usually always about a client who’s not ready to get clean and sober. Some come to us looking for a surrogate mommy or daddy. They're looking for someone to care for them, to cushion them from the realities of life. And when they run into our staff members, all recovering addicts and alcoholics, they are disappointed. All of a sudden they're looking into mirrors of themselves. They discover our volunteer managers are exactly like them: addicts and alcoholics working on recovery. And they learn it is difficult to lie to or manipulate other addicts and alcoholics.

When clients enter TLC they have the shocking experience of coming face-to-face with themselves. And when they face the reality that they’re the problem they were trying to escape then they have to make a decision: do I run away one more time, or do I stick it out and work on myself?

We sometimes encounter clients who say "I don't want to be here."

"Well then," I'll ask, "why are you here?"

"I'm here because my parole officer put me here. I don't have any choice."

"Why don't you just leave then?" I'll ask.

"My PO will put me in jail," will be the response.

"Then you do have a choice?" I'll ask.

At this point the conversation generally breaks down because the person dealing with the parole or probation officer doesn't want to take responsibility for his choices. On a deep level he recognizes that he has choices. He just doesn't like those he’s presented with. Many of us go through life feeling like we're out of control. But most of us we are presented with a series of choices. If we go to jail we made a choice to commit a crime. We're not victims of the system if we decide to go to a recovery program instead of staying in jail.

If we recognize that we are where we’re at this moment because of our choices then we’ll likely make better ones.

On a recent visit to our Las Vegas facility I was pleased to encounter one of our clients who'd been having serious health problems. He looked much better than he had the previous few times I'd seen him. However, when I greeted him and shook his hand, I noticed the outline of a cigarette pack in his shirt pocket.

"And I see that you've quit smoking," I said, facetiously.

"Well, I've been cutting down," he said. We talked for a few minutes about how quitting smoking would help in his recovery from his heart problems. Even though he agreed with me, I didn't detect any enthusiasm in his voice for my suggestion that he give up smoking.

As a former smoker who quit 27 years ago I don't like the smell of cigarettes nor do I like the effect it has on those still addicted to them. I understand the power of the addiction. As a recovering heroin addict I believe it was harder for me to put down cigarettes than it was to lay down the needle.

However, I was motivated to quit for two reasons. One, smoking was impacting my health. And two, cigarettes took a heavy toll on my family. Some seven family members, including my mother, died early from the effects of emphysema or COPD.

Over 10 years ago, at a recovery conference in New Jersey I heard that the state doesn't fund programs that allow clients to smoke. Someone told me their philosophy was that smoking is also an addiction. While at the time I thought this an extreme position, I thoroughly understand the concept. The addictive properties of nicotine can be stronger than heroin, and just as deadly in the damage it inflicts on those it enslaves.

Before leaving I suggested to this client that the same 12-step principles that worked for him with alcohol and drugs could also work with cigarettes.