CHAPTER EIGHT — The Law of Self-Repair: Awareness and the Whole Human Being

“Energy equals mass times the speed of light squared.” — Albert Einstein

This is not metaphor. It is a working description of a closed system.

E = mc² holds because energy and matter are not rivals but expressions of one reality maintained through relationship. What makes the system viable is not either side of the equation, but what sits between them.

The equals sign.

Remove the equals sign and the system does not become freer; it becomes unstable. Energy overwhelms form, or form constrains energy until failure occurs. The problem is never energy itself or matter itself. The problem is the loss of regulation.

Human consciousness has suffered an equivalent structural failure.

For centuries, identity has been weighted almost entirely toward cognition, narrative, and effort. Conscience was reduced to belief, instruction, or compliance rather than recognised as a functional regulator within a living system. Thought became identity. The mind was treated as the whole.

The Twelve Step template corrects this error with unusual precision.

Step Three establishes the lower line of the equals sign: the embodied human being returning their will and life as they are — conditioned, conflicted, unfinished. This is not resignation; it is structural truthfulness.

Step Seven establishes the upper line: conscious alignment with the One beyond the personal system — not as belief, but as contact. Willingness replaces strain. Alignment replaces control.

Between these two lines, a third function becomes possible.

This is where Step Five must be understood accurately.

Step Five is not moral confession. It is the delivery of conscience. It is the moment awareness becomes accountable within relationship, rather than circulating privately inside the mind. Until this delivery occurs, conscience remains present only in potential — sensed but not governing.

Step Five places the central point between the lines.

This point is not judgement, diagnosis, or ideology. It is individuated conscience: the capacity to recognise alignment and misalignment in real time, from within the person, rather than imposed from outside. Clinically, this is the restoration of internal regulation through truthful disclosure.

This is the gain control. This is the regulatory function. This is the equals sign restored.

When conscience is absent, energy overwhelms form (compulsion, repetition, escalation), or form suppresses energy (numbing, rigidity, collapse). When conscience is present, the same forces move through the system without damage and generate coherence.

This chapter concerns that restoration — not the elimination of desire, but the regulation of power; not the dominance of mind, but its return to function; not separation from the body, but reintegration of mind, psyche, and organism into a single working system.



The modern world — including many professional healthcare workers — conflates emotions and feelings into one list. Yet they are not the same.

Feelings are the continuous pressure system of the psyche — ascending, descending, or neutral i.e. transcending — the inner equivalent of blood pressure.

Emotions are the barometric responses to those pressures — expressive weather systems, passing storms, momentary turbulence.

Feeling-pressure is the inner meteorology. Emotion is the barometer registering its movement.

Until conscience is delivered, these inner systems remain difficult to trust. Right and wrong are felt only dimly, borrowed from outside, or imposed as rules rather than recognised as alignment. The organism feels pressure, but does not yet know with itself what that pressure means.



All experience enters through the five physical senses and was designed to be received by the mind, which is the stomach of the psyche. The mind is not a throne, not a control centre, not the essence of being. It is the digestive organ of inner life, receiving raw impressions as the body receives food — softening, mixing, breaking down, and integrating what comes in.

In the same way, conscience is not an abstract moral faculty. It emerges when digestion is restored — when experience has been received, broken down, and integrated rather than bypassed or acted out. Conscience cannot be installed. It must be born.

This digestion is continually heated and stirred by three biological instincts:

  • Sex instinct — toward union, creativity, pleasure
  • Social instinct — toward belonging, role, recognition
  • Security instinct — toward safety, control, continuity

These instinctual tones behave like thermal currents, shaping the texture of our inner weather.

But when the mind is lifted out of its digestive role and mistaken for the self — when it becomes a noun instead of the verb it was always meant to be — a catastrophic split begins. The mind becomes a box, a container in which a person attempts to live, separate from the organism that bears them.

Addiction arises as the organism’s desperate attempt to blow the box apart — to force a reunion between mind and psyche, and between psyche and the animal body. It is not merely escape; it is a violent attempt at reintegration.

In this sense, addiction is not the opposite of conscience but its precursor under pressure. The executive function — the capacity to bind, repeat, and devote — is alive and vital, yet ungoverned by an individuated knowing-with-self. Until conscience arrives, that binding power attaches to substitutes. The energy is not wrong. The marriage has not yet occurred.

When this split deepens, awareness detaches into a pod-like mind, floating above the living organism on a trickle charge of sensation and story. Detached awareness no longer inhabits the animal body, and so the person treats their own body in ways they would never treat a dog — with overwork, intoxication, deprivation, sedation, punishment, and neglect — not from cruelty, but from disconnection.

This disconnection is precisely what older spiritual language described as a second birth — not a conversion of opinion, but the delivery of conscience itself: the moment awareness becomes answerable and knowing becomes personal rather than theoretical.

At the heart of recovery is this revelation: the mind was never meant to be a noun. Its primary meaning is a verb: to mind — to care for, to attend to, to shepherd. This is the original function of mind in the architecture of Humankind.

In the Twelve Step Programme, this restoration occurs through a precise delivery apparatus. Steps Three, Seven, and Eleven restore contact — re-pairing the circuit so that consciousness is no longer running on a trickle charge. But contact alone is not sufficient. What follows is birth.



These insights do not arise from abstraction. They come from years of client work with cases that seemed impossibly complex — until the distinction between the two bodies became visible: the outer biological body and the inner ontological body of the psyche.

With up to forty thousand neurons in the heart, it is almost as if, in the end, the heart itself blows up the box of the mind. Where the noun-mind tries to contain experience, the heart forces reunion — bringing head and heart back together through a paradoxical collusion inside the sacred disease of stuck and broken addiction.

Steps One, Five, and Ten are not confessions in the moral sense. They are ad-missions — movements toward truth — the labour through which conscience is delivered into the present. The first birth brings a human into life; the second birth brings a human into responsibility.

For many, it is precisely addiction that exposes the failure of the mental box and compels the whole organism to seek unity again. And when this collapse meets the template of the Twelve Step Programme — a body of principles proven by lived evidence rather than theory — delusion is slowly dismantled.

In that process, healthy illusion is restored: the recognition that life is a play of energy experiencing itself through form. Not denial, not fantasy, but the rightful imaginative field in which a human being can live without fragmentation.

When conscience is born, illusion no longer deceives. It plays. Parable resumes its rightful function — carrying meaning across levels without freezing the soul’s development. Weaponised story arrests this second birth and leaves the person stalled between innocence and wisdom. Living story completes it.

The heart returns the mind to its verb-nature. The organism reclaims its person. And what was divided becomes whole enough to begin again.

Only now can consciousness carry its own preciousness through experience without fragmenting. Only now can the executive function bind the person to what serves life rather than substitutes for it. This is not virtue. It is alignment restored.

When clients see this clearly — the psychic stomach, the instinctual heats, the pressure system of feeling, the barometric nature of emotion, the pod-mind’s detachment — relief is palpable. Shame dissolves. Confusion lifts. A person sees themselves from the inside.

And then comes the great turning:

Both the outer body and the inner psyche heal by the same law.
When the wound is brought into awareness, the system moves toward self-repair.

Awareness is medicine because conscience is now present to receive it. Unity is the outcome because right and wrong have returned to relationship. The human being — mind, psyche, and animal body — begins its slow return from Mankind’s fragmentation to Humankind’s wholeness.

This is the return of Eden — not innocence regained, but innocence completed by wisdom. The One sees Itself through a unique, unrepeatable person, and love appears as recognition across difference.

Anne Wilson Schaef named the Addictive System as a cultural field rather than an individual pathology. This observation is included here not as critique, but as a clinical orientation point.

What this reveals is not a technique of self-repair, but a relationship. Awareness does not restore coherence by force or control; it responds. When the whole human being is allowed to register experience without distortion, something larger than the individual appears to be met. Repair occurs as if the organism is answering a call already present — an order that precedes thought, belief, and method. Whatever name is given to this order, it cannot be reduced to psychology alone, yet psychology becomes intelligible in its light.

CHAPTER SIX — THE TACTICAL SPIRITUAL

“They plan, and Allah plans — and Allah is the best of planners.” — Qur’an 3:54

Practical spirituality teaches a person how to stand. Tactical spirituality teaches a person how to move. Life does not unfold in straight lines, and neither does healing. There are currents in the world and currents in the self — some lift, some obscure, some conceal, some reveal.

The seeker who begins to live from Withness must learn how to navigate these currents with wisdom, subtlety, responsiveness, and above all, tact. For the Qur’an does not say that human beings plan and God ignores them; it says:

They plan — and God plans.

This means the world is dynamic. Layers of intention act upon one another: human plans, ego plans, cultural plans, systemic plans. Yet above and within all these movements is another Intent — the Creative Plan that holds the seeker, shapes the path, and redirects the one who listens.

Tactical spirituality begins here: recognising that you are moving within a field that is already in motion.

The left-hand word of DRT believes it must control everything: “If I plan enough, I will be safe.” The right-hand word knows otherwise: “I attend, I listen, I adjust — I am being led.”

Tactical spirituality is not manipulation or scheming. It is alignment-in-motion — a willingness to respond to the unfolding moment rather than impose the ego’s agenda upon it. Thus the seeker must learn tact: when to advance, when to retreat, when to pause, when to speak, when to remain silent, when to ask, when to wait, and when to surrender the tactic entirely because a larger Plan is becoming clear.

The Misconception of Power

From Pharaoh in the time of Moses to the emperors of global empires today, the powerful have always believed a quiet lie: that the Angel of Death walks on their leash.

They imagine their planning absolute, their systems unbreakable, their dominance eternal. But history answers this delusion again and again. Empire after empire has discovered that death is loyal to no ruler, and sovereignty belongs to no throne.

Pharaoh believed he commanded fate — yet the Angel passed over the huts of slaves and entered the palaces of the mighty. Rome believed itself unchallengeable — yet a crucified Jew reshaped the world long after Caesar’s breath was dust. Modern empires imagine surveillance, markets, and digital reach have mastered destiny — yet the same pattern holds.

The Angel walks freely. And the Planner is not them.

This is mercy. If human beings truly controlled death, the world would have ended long ago. The powerful confuse strategy with sovereignty. The seeker must not repeat their mistake.

Tactical spirituality knows that the One who plans is not moved by domination but by alignment; not by fear but by purpose; not by force but by presence.

The seeker walks tactically because they walk within a Plan that cannot be manipulated and cannot be dethroned.

The Movements of the Tactical Spiritual

Living tactically means moving with humility inside a world that moves. The Twelve Step lineage teaches continual watchfulness, self-inventory, amends, prayer, meditation, and service — not as moral demands but as tactical movements that keep a person aligned with reality rather than trapped in egoic planning.

The Addictive System has tactics. Ego has tactics. Despair has tactics. Therefore the seeker must learn the counter-tactic of humility, responsiveness, relationality, and subtle listening.

The highest tact is knowing that safety lies not in domination, but in alignment with the Plan that precedes the world.

The Mighty Counsellor

All tact leads to one revelation: the One who plans is also the One who cares. Power without compassion is Pharaoh’s mistake. Strategy without mercy becomes tyranny. Tactics without tenderness become cruelty dressed as wisdom.

But the seeker is not moving towards a throne — they are moving towards a Presence. In the Christian lineage, this Presence is the Mighty Counsellor, the Christ Consciousness, the Word made flesh — the Repaired Pair in perfect wholeness.

And like any true counsellor, He arrives not with doctrine or judgement but with one question — the only question that can open the human heart:

“Where does it hurt, and how can I help you?”

This is not sentiment. It is divine tact. Until a person knows where it hurts, they cannot know where to begin. Until they feel accompanied, they cannot trust the beginning. The Addictive System never asks this question. It demands performance, adjustment, endurance, and numbness.

Global psychiatry rests upon a diagnostic dictionary (DSM-5) designed primarily for practitioner categorisation and reimbursement. But the letters of the acronym reveal a deeper, older truth:

Death, Sex, and Money — the three unchanging lines of force shaping every individual and collective life recorded in the story of Mankind.

All forms of stuck addiction arise from a breakdown in relationship with these three forces. Until a new attitude is established — a healed relationship with Death, Sex, and Money — no movement towards a more consistently Human behaviour is possible.

DSM is not merely a taxonomy. It is a spiritual relational wound.

The Mighty Counsellor asks only what a healer, a sponsor, a true friend, or a Higher Power asks when the soul becomes quiet enough to hear:

“Where does it hurt?”
“How can I help you?”

This is the Groundhog Day lesson: that life changes not through grand plans, but through the quiet, repeated willingness to help others have their best day — not knowing that in doing so, you are shaping your own. And when this dawns, the Just for Today card of the global Twelve Step movement ceases to be a slogan and becomes a living tactic: a way of aligning each ordinary day with the extraordinary Plan that moves beneath it. In this daily tact, the seeker discovers that service is strategy, that presence is protection, and that each repeated “today” becomes a step back into Humankind.

CHAPTER FIVE — THE PRACTICAL SPIRITUAL

Image by my father-in-law, Sudhi Bhattacharjee (28.02.2025), whose gift for seeing bridges — literal and inner — lives on in this chapter.

“If it’s not practical, it’s not spiritual.” — Narcotics Anonymous

Spirituality has been inflated, abstracted, and misrepresented for so long that many young people no longer trust the word. They do not need theories floating above the world. They need a spirituality that helps them walk through the world — especially those who stand at the edge of despair.

Disconnected metaphysics cannot help them. They sense immediately when language is hovering above pain rather than entering it. They have been surrounded by commentary, opinion, and “spiritual content” that does nothing to steady the breath or guide the next step. They know the difference.

This generation has inherited a landscape of ideas without lineage, identity without grounding, and “spirituality” without practice. So when metaphysics approaches unrooted, they turn away — not out of cynicism, but out of accuracy.

Spiritual bypassing is what happens when comfort replaces courage, when insight substitutes for honesty, when abstraction avoids the wound instead of meeting it.

The NA line exposes this clearly: if it cannot be lived, it is not spiritual. If it does not help a person stay present, breathe, act, or withstand the day, it is simply language.

The Twelve Step Fellowships embody this truth. They take no opinion on external systems or cultural debates. Their task is simpler and deeper: to offer what has helped real human beings recover — day by day, step by step. Spirituality here is not concept but companionship.

The Healing Trust works in a parallel way. It does not oppose anything; it offers a Creator-led pathway of healing supported by evidence and defined by its Code of Conduct. Its work is invitational, grounded, practical — the hands become the bridge, reconnecting the person to a field of Withness too deep for words.

DRT stands in this same ethical lineage. It does not claim superiority, nor does it set itself against other modalities. Instead, it offers a way to understand behaviour, being, and consciousness in a framework that is clinically responsible, spiritually grounded, and accountable to the BACP Spirituality Division. It provides orientation — a relational map of where a person stands and how they may move.

Real spirituality does not bypass the brokenness. It meets it. It pairs with it. It grounds the person in a way that restores their capacity to live.

The Next Stone — Practice as the Way Back into Pairing

Practical spirituality begins with the smallest possible movement — small enough that even despair does not forbid it. The Addictive System teaches escalation: everything must be intense or transformative. But the spiritual path teaches the opposite: begin with the next right thing.

This is how de-pair becomes re-pair.

The left-hand and right-hand words of DRT are not distant ideas. They invite different micro-actions, moment by moment.

1. The Pause That Reconnects (Healing Trust resonance)

Before reaction, before collapse, before decision — pause for the length of one breath.

The pause is relational. It is the gesture that says: “I am not alone inside this moment.”

The Healing Trust embodies this silently. The healer pauses first, enters Withness, then invites the client’s field to follow. A young person can do this without training. It is the first re-pairing: breath-with-body, body-with-moment, moment-with-awareness.

2. Naming the State (DRT clarity)

The second act is simply to name which column you are in.

Left-hand word or right-hand word.

No judgement. No shame. Just naming. In DRT, naming restores orientation; orientation restores agency. Young people do not need doctrines — they need direction.

3. The Small Turn Toward Assistance (12 Step lineage)

The third act is the tiniest turn toward help.

A text to someone safe. A line in a journal. A whispered “Help.” A willingness to believe, for one breath, “I do not have to carry this alone.”

This is the heart of Step One, Step Two, Step Three — the shift from isolation to Withness. It is the smallest motion that reopens the field.

This is practical spirituality.

What Young People Need

They need a spirituality that can be practiced in the middle of despair. A spirituality small enough to begin today, strong enough to hold tomorrow, and honest enough to meet them where they are.

They do not need escape. They need re-pairing. They do not need metaphysics. They need Withness. They do not need perfection. They need participation.

And so Chapter Five ends not with theory, but with the most practical spiritual truth carried through generations of the recovering:

“Without help it is too much for us. But there is One who has all Power — that One is God. May you find Him now.” — Alcoholics Anonymous, p.59

Not later. Not when you feel better. Not when the despair has lifted. Now — with the life you actually have, and the breath that is already yours.