Many of us have noticed a tendency to eat sweets . . .” – Alcoholics Anonymous

I am an addict. Even though I am on the road of recovery, I must never forget that I have a predisposition to addiction. Notwithstanding the fact that it has been over seven years since I last used alcohol or drugs, I can still (so very easily) slip into other addictive behavior – like eating sweets, for example:

While in San Francisco this past weekend (for several family birthdays), our large group went to Fisherman’s Wharf for lunch, followed by a walk along Pier 39. Of course, my young grandsons loved observing the sea lions basking at K-Dock, the territorial males barking and biting at other sea lions trying to leap onto their floating wooden platforms. Eventually, we continued our walk around the bay end of the pier, where I was instinctively drawn into the candy-lovers paradise of Candy Baron. Immediately confronted with 66 barrels of assorted salt water taffy – not to mention many varieties of candy I hadn’t seen since I worked as a kid at my mother’s ice cream parlor – I thought I had died and gone to Candy Heaven.

While observing other people gingerly placing a few tiny handfuls of assorted taffy into their small baskets, I was looking for a large scoop so that I could half-empty the two barrels holding the cotton candy and bubble gum flavored taffy into my overflowing basket. At $4.99 a half-pound, most of the people lined up in front of me were leaving the Candy Baron with small plastic bags of candy, having spent probably no more than ten dollars. But these are people we addicts call “normies.” They’re not like us. You see, someone like me, someone who isn’t a “normie,” who has a prevalent “sweet tooth” addiction, figures out a way to walk out of the Candy Baron with a huge plastic double-bag with over nine pounds of salt water taffy in it, at a cost of – wait for it – $90.50!

Only a recovering addict would share an embarrassing story like this – but only in the hope that it may help another addict. If you substitute the word alcohol for salt water taffy, it would be correct to say that I had an addiction relapse. If, instead of walking into the Candy Baron and leaving with $90 of assorted taffy, I had walked into a Liquor Barn and left with $90 of assorted booze, that would be the definition of an alcohol relapse. I am only now, perhaps for the first time, realizing that, as an addict, I can no longer casually excuse when I have any type of addiction relapse – whether that addiction is work, gambling, sex, porn, eating, shopping etc. Just because I haven’t had the compulsion to drink alcohol or use drugs for over seven years doesn’t mean I can’t slip into other recognized addictions. They are all destructive to me, personally, and stand in the way of my desire to be the best me possible – my true self.

Therefore, I hereby resolve to treat any additional addictions that I have as being equal to that of alcohol and drugs – no more, no less. My intent in writing The Pono Principle was to be completely honest with the reader. That is why, at the end of each chapter, I offer a confessional entitled A Pono Life Lesson which reminds the reader that, like them, I am working everyday at being a better person than I was yesterday. And even though we fall from time to time, what is most important is to not let our past failures prevent us from forging forth to our goal of personal and spiritual growth. What I did a week ago does not preclude me from choosing not to repeat that same behavior today, at this moment. That is why practicing The Pono Principle is rooted in the present moment. Only there, in the here and now, are we able to choose to do the right thing in all things.

So, what became of the nine pounds of taffy, you might ask? I would be lying if I said that I didn’t “lighten the load” of that large bag of taffy when I returned to my hotel later that day. But, when I awoke the next morning, the bells of Grace Cathedral were ringing from across the street, heralding that it was Easter morning. I attended Mass at Old St. Mary’s Cathedral where I took time to ponder my gluttonous behavior of the day before. But the message of Easter is about Resurrection, of rising again. And so, I too arose – from the pew, out the door, and up the hill to my hotel room. There, I grabbed the remaining eight pounds (or so) of salt water taffy and brought it to my daughter, instructing her to take it to her office the next morning, and put it in a bowl for her to share with her co-workers. Hopefully, they are “normies,” who will help themselves to a few pieces of taffy, and then move along. As an addict, I have no idea how people can moderate eating candy anymore than I can understand how some people can be content having only one glass of wine with dinner. I just accept the fact that I don’t have that ability – such is the curse of addiction.

I am writing this post in the tranquil setting of my lake house on Donner Lake in Northern California. I like to take a three-mile walk along the south shore road in the early morning. While considering what I might write for this first post, it occurred to me that I haven’t been faithful in following My Daily “Must Do” List (which I discuss in Chapter 8 of The Pono Principle). By my own definition, a “Must Do” list is something that “must” be done, with no exceptions. Two of my daily action steps involve nourishing my body, and writing a certain number of words every day. Had I stayed faithful to those two action steps, I would neither have bought $90 of salt water taffy last Saturday, nor would it have taken me this long to write the first post to my website.

It is my sincere hope that my blog will be a welcoming environment to those who can relate to what they have read in The Pono Principle and/or these posts. I promise you, the reader, that I will keep the posts coming. Upon my return to Maui this weekend, I begin writing my new book, the second child of what will be a trilogy. The conception for the new work was formulated while I was in New Zealand last December. Like The Pono Principle, it will reflect what life lessons have taught me over a lifetime, and how they may be of benefit to others and the world we share together.

I very much look forward to your feedback.