These definitions maintain that something has been lost and must be sought out, identified and repossessed. Recovery doesn’t simply mean getting better; otherwise we’d call it improvement. Recovery is a process of returning in a strengthened, matured state. Returning to what or where is the question we must answer if we are to properly recover. You can go about recovery without knowing the answer in the same way you can walk in the right direction without understanding the destination or even knowing you’re on the right path. But knowing the destination makes the process less wandering and more intentional than otherwise. 

This post wouldn’t be complete without a dip into the origins of the word. The Middle English recoveren (c. 1300) pertained mainly to the state of being. It translated into the idea of a return to wellbeing, health and strength after illness or injury, and most generally to regain consciousness. The Old French recovrer meant to return, to come back to a state of health or to procure again. I’ve seen many resources reference the similarities to the Latin recuperare, from which we have “recuperate”, but I think it might be more rooted in the prefixes re- and co- with the noun veritas, from which we have “very” and “veritable”. 

RE + CO + VERY. 

Even if that’s not the case, I’m taking the liberty of using these parts of speech for my discussion of the etymology. A degree in the Classics and general nerdiness qualifies that discussion. 

Quid est veritas? If you’ve seen Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, you may recall that’s what Pontius Pilate asks Jesus before letting the Pharisees take him. What is truth? A simple sounding yet incredibly difficult question. This word truth constitutes the main body of the word recovery. Truth is what we are regaining; this is the end to which recovery leads.  So to effectively reach this end, we need an understanding of what this truth entails. Each of us contains a trifold existence of mind, body and spirit. Oftentimes, our pursuit of truth caters to the mind. We seek knowledge and understanding of the world. Sometimes, the body dictates our pursuit of truth, going after the accumulation of material possessions or focusing on appearance and health. The conquest of technology is a bit of both mind and body as it lends itself to our mental progress and involves the expansion of intellect and ownership. Mind and body are crucial aspects of our existence, so these pursuits are beneficial in their way; however, any pursuit of truth in the realm of mind or body inevitably has a boundary to it. So that leaves the search for truth as it pertains to the spirit. The word “recovery” can hold direction for that pursuit if we choose to read it a certain way: broken into the three Latin components previously noted.

The re- prefix - again - implies that we have had this truth in our grasp before. When? In the simplest time: infancy. Infancy etymologically stems from the Latin infans - unspeaking. This stage in human life is a period in which our conscious selves were not yet subject to the vocabulary with which our minds control our conscious state. I used to wonder what babies thought about just chilling in their rockers all day, and the answer could be close to nothing. Consider the state of deep meditation when you’re just being. That’s akin to the infant state of just being, though they don’t have to try as hard. They’re aware of their bodies and minds to some extent, but their conscious state, their spirit, is the strongest at this point because the others have yet to assert themselves as relevant, capable agents of control.  In the Bible, Jesus taught that unless we become like little children we cannot enter the kingdom of heaven, and I think part of the meaning in that instruction pertains to this state of conscious being that comes so much more easily in infancy and childhood. Maybe children don’t have the full awareness of how this state is a deep connection to every other being, but they’re able to remain in it because they have yet to endure the experiences that draw us out of that state and keep us out of that state. This conscious state intrinsically lives in us, but trauma and distraction in various forms cloud its presence. Recovery is the process of finding that true existence again and living it in a more aware and fulfilling manner. 

The co/com- prefix - together - suggests that this journey back to consciousness necessitates fellowship. I think a lot of good recovery work can be done solo, but there’s value in sharing that’s lost when we attempt to keep our findings and progress to ourselves. Jon Krakauer’s Into the Wild chronicles the true story of Chris McCandless, who makes a similar discovery about community at the end of his own journey of enlightenment. Disenchanted with the materialistic world pushed on him by his parents and their society, he sets off on a journey to find the truth in living. As he hitchhikes his way to Alaska, he merges paths with various different people who shape his understanding of life, love and humanity.  He takes these relationships as gifts but continues on his journey alone, ultimately realizing his goal of living off the land in Alaska, alone with nature and completely free from the fetters of money and the cultural expectations he found so destructive to his happiness. In this space of solitude he has the time to reflect on his experiences, and he comes to the realization: “Happiness only real when shared.” He writes these words above the Doctor Zhivago passage: “And so it turned out that only a life similar to the life of those around us, merging with it without a ripple, is genuine life, and that an unshared happiness is not happiness” (Pasternik). Chris made this realization alone, having escaped the forces that drew him away from his sense of self and having experienced real connections with the people whom he met in his own recovery from past trauma. Chris found something true in his journey, but he also found that this truth was only relevant when experienced communally. 

That’s how recovery works. It’s a return to the truth we came from but in a new way, through the trauma and shared with others traveling on their own paths toward truth. It’s not easy by any means, but the company makes it worthwhile and adds a measure of happiness to the experience. The truth is that sense of conscious connection we come from. The experience of the divine, the bond with other life that is lost by various forms of addiction. We can return to it, and we can share it once we’re able to cultivate it in ourselves.