Writing New Chapters in Our Own Books: Scott Strode's Road to Recovery

Scott Strode is firmly in his 50s, but for more than half his life, he has been in recovery from substance use disorder.

To cope with his abusive home life, he started drinking at age 11 and found his way to harder drugs by his middle teens. He struggled with alcohol and drugs into his mid-20s before finding a way forward through intense physical experiences that he shared with the people who became his friends.

He built communities around mountain biking and Iron Man competitions. His first such passion was ice climbing, an activity that helped strip away his anxieties and gave him a new focus. Ice climbing taught him to be brave and confident. Every decision on the side of a sheer mountain put him at risk, requiring him to proceed with a decisiveness steeped in experience. Strode's new passions convinced him to scale the mountains of Nepal and also persuaded him that the path forward for others was creating nurturing communities.

Strode's journey motivated him to create "The Phoenix," one of the nation's top substance abuse recovery communities, commonly called Phoenix. It is also the subject of his new memoir, "Rise. Recover. Thrive.: How I Got Sober, and Built a Movement of Hope." The Phoenix creates "sober active communities" that cultivate resilience in members against substance abuse and builds connections among people who have struggled with alcohol or drugs. Founded in 2006, The Phoenix has more than a half-million members today.

"As somebody who's over 50 himself, this community can look like primarily physical activities but this is for everybody," Strode asserts, noting that some of Phoenix's most popular events are built around book clubs, photography and crafts.

"At the same time, moving your body over 50 is really important for your physical and mental health," Strode says. "Start with small steps — cut back on your drinking and start moving your body. Surround yourself with people who are more focused on doing things in life that are meaningful and significant rather than spending time with the people you're drinking or using with today."

While the movement continues to grow among all age demographics each year, Strode says he believes now was the time to tell his story in book form to create a durable portrait of the vision that he and his contemporaries brought to life over the past 20 years.

"I felt compelled to write 'Rise. Recover. Thrive.' because I've been working for almost two decades with the Phoenix movement, reaching people with addiction with a different approach," he explains. That approach was the belief in the strength of people to change their circumstances.

"For this to endure, we really have to share the ideas that are behind the movement," Strode says. "Rise. Recover. Thrive." spells out the concepts that animate the Phoenix through a series of vignettes that delve into the lived experiences of Strode and his colleagues. The short chapters were a conscious decision on Strode's part, making the book easy to pick up or put down as life intervenes.

One of the books most striking vignettes covers Strode's young adulthood in Boston. He describes the experience of becoming a regular at a bar where all the other regulars were much older people who seemed to be in the midst of long-term drinking problems. Strode describes becoming for a time the next generation of what he witnessed around him in the bar. When asked what he would say to those people today, Strode responded with the kind of optimism that characterizes the Phoenix movement.

"No matter how long this has been part of how you live your life, you can still change. We all can help lift each other up," he says. "We can settle into doing what we know and what comes to us easily. We need to keep challenging ourselves to learn something new, to try something new."

Strode concedes to trying a number of hobbies through the Phoenix that he hasn't quite mastered, namely yoga and photography. At the same time, those experiences have introduced him to new people and given him further confidence to try new things.

"Sometimes, being over 50, I can go through the week and fall into routines and sort of do the same thing every day," he says. "But creating those experiences and surrounding ourselves with other people from The Phoenix is how we write the new chapters in our own books."

When asked what makes his organization different from traditional 12-step recovery programs, Strode cites an alternative emphasis.

"I think it has some similarities to 12-step programs in that anyone, anywhere can start a Phoenix in their location as a volunteer. They can share their unique gifts with others to help them overcome substance use," he says. "But I think a lot of 12-step programs are focused on self-reflection on your relationship with substances."

Moreover, organizations like Alcoholics Anonymous are focused on individuals following a specific sequence of ways to overcome that relationship. Strode describes The Phoenix's approach as more focused on the future.

"The Phoenix is really about us coming together and dreaming about what's possible," Strode says, explaining that the activities in which Phoenix members collaborate become a source of their identity and a place for them to channel their energy.

People become parts of communities of woodworkers, readers and rock climbers rather than focusing on their powerlessness in the face of addiction. Those with previous experience in a field become guides and mentors, which help serve as a source of meaning for them in their recovery.

Strode encourages people like himself, age 50 and older, to reach out to local Phoenix organizations or help bring one into existence in their community.

"If they are still active in their drinking or using, I would tell them that it's never too late to change. My grandmother got sober at 72. We thought she had an early-onset dementia, but we realized it was more related to her evenings, when she would drink," he says.

"Many of our volunteers are 50 and over. And I think we forget that we have developed unique gifts by that point in our lives that we can share with others," Strode says. "By sharing our unique gifts, we not only lift others but also lift ourselves because we find a central purpose."