If you’re lucky, you’ve never been stung by a jellyfish. If you spend time at the ocean or a bay on the East Coast and like to swim in very hot weather, you are likely to know what jellyfish are. Maybe you have even been stung once or twice.

Sadly, if you live anywhere on the East Coast and went to your favorite beach in August this year, you couldn’t miss the jellyfish. One “expert” reports this is the worst year for jellyfish in 50 years. For me, the abundance of jellyfish this summer became an unexpected reminder of some lessons I’ve learned through recovery.

In case you’re not familiar, jellyfish are simple marine animals who don’t swim and are carried by the tides. They look like a ball of plastic in different colors, mostly in my experience a clear greyish or brown. What makes them annoying is that they have tentacles that, when they touch a human, sting accidentally. They don’t do it on purpose. It’s their nature to have these tentacles which, when touched, can cause localized pain, burning and rashes. (For more about jellyfish see the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) website)

In the past, you might have run into a few jellyfish in August at the beach when it is very hot. The first time I was stung, it felt like it would never go away. In fact, the sting and discomfort usually go away in a few hours. Treatments or home remedies include applying baking soda and water or vinegar. Up until the last two summers, I accepted an occasional sting as the cost for the joy of swimming in the ocean.

The presence of jellyfish has increased dramatically in the last two years. They increase in number from heat and warm water. Warmer weather and water bring them closer to the shore. Sadly, this year, during our 10 days at the beach, there were a number of times when there was no one in the ocean except the jellyfish.

Think about that for a moment. There are thousands of people of all ages sitting on a beach with the sun beating down, making the sand too hot to walk with bare feet. Temperatures in the high 80s and 90s. And no one is cooling off in the ocean. That is hard to imagine.

My experience of having my ocean swimming cancelled by jellyfish this summer brought with it a number of lessons. More than anything, it reminded me of how much Twelve Step recovery has changed the way I respond when life doesn’t go the way I want it to. That seems especially relevant in September, which is Recovery Month.

My first reaction to the jellyfish was selfish annoyance, at times anger, that I couldn’t do one of the things I most enjoy at the beach – swim in the ocean. My initial thought was – “Well, this vacation is ruined and I will never come back here.” Perhaps an exaggerated response.

My years in recovery have taught me to turn to the Serenity Prayer when self-pity and victimhood take over. I have more options than I can see in my obsessive thinking. As I let the Serenity Prayer work on me, I realized I could wear a swim shirt to protect my arms. I also talked with the lifeguard and read more about times of the day when there were fewer jellyfish. As a result, I did go in the ocean and swim once or twice. I got stung a few times and found myself fearful of being stung while swimming. At least I was in the water.

As the week went on and the presence of jellyfish escalated and abated from time to time, I began to think of others and feel compassion for them. I saw a family who had never experienced jellyfish trying to comfort their wailing 6-year-old, not knowing what had happened to him. I was able to share my limited knowledge and relieve their concerns somewhat. 

One of the greatest gifts of Twelve Step recovery is a process for making peace with life’s stinging moments. Before embarking on this journey, I didn’t think there should be any kind of pain, including jellyfish stings. Facing my powerlessness over my use of alcohol, sugar and other foods helped me accept and move through pain without enduring additional self-inflicted suffering. Facing my unrealistic belief that I needed to control people and situations to get my way so I wouldn’t get hurt or suffer discomfort showed me how my thinking was distorted and caused me and others’ problems.

Maybe that is one lesson the jellyfish have to offer. We all have our own “jellyfish” in our lives—things we cannot control that sting, disappoint or frighten us. We all have choices in how to respond to the stings of life. Recovery doesn’t make the jellyfish disappear. It gives us tools for responding differently when they show up.

Recovery Month is a great reminder for all of us that recovery is about more than overcoming a particular problem. It is also about learning healthy ways to respond to whatever life brings, including the unexpected stings.