The Path to Recovery Isn’t Linear

There’s a hole in my sidewalk, or, the path to recovery isn’t linear

This phrase ‘the path to recovery isn’t linear’ has entered into the common vernacular, but what does it actually mean?

For me, its meaning has two parts. Firstly, there’s the idea that the recovery path doesn’t go in a neat, straight line. Our expectation might be that there’s constant forward motion: an upward trajectory of mappable progress. The reality of recovery is that it’s messy and ugly and imperfect. We make mistakes, we go backwards, we try approaches that fail, we are pissed off and frustrated sometimes, and sometimes it can feel like we’re making no progress at all.

The second part is the idea that we are journeying ‘to recovery’ as a final destination. Our expectation might be that we wake up from one day to the next, ‘recovered’. The reality turns out to be much more nuanced. Just as the path to recovery is not one straight line, so too the destination unfolds not a fixed point, but rather as something that meanders off into the distance, no finish line in sight.

As I’m writing this, I’m in the midst of a new and unfamiliar recovery: a six month and counting recovery from long covid. This chronic illness has been a cruel teacher, knocking the air out of me and stripping me of the physical strength and mental power I took so much for granted.

But I’ve certainly been able to approach this healing process in a more considered and skilful way because I am informed by my past recovery experiences. I’m reminded of the poignant poem by Portia Nelson, ‘There’s a Hole in My Sidewalk’. Here she explores the very human condition of continuing to make mistakes, again and again, until we learn how to do something differently. I think it perfectly encapsulates the concept of a non-linear recovery.

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

by Portia Nelson “There’s a Hole in My Sidewalk”

Chapter One
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost . . . I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault . . . It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter Two
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in this same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter Three
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it there.
I still fall . . . it’s a habit . . . but,
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

Chapter Four
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

Chapter Five
I walk down another street.

As we walk down the street of our recovery, we can find ourselves continually falling into the holes. Sometimes things will be easier, sometimes things do get better. Sometimes we’re back in a hole. But with each hole we fall into, it becomes easier to find the way out. And it’s the requisite resilience learned by digging yourself out of a hole, that allows us to rise up and face each new downturn in life with renewed tenacity.