Why is it that my brain can create entire scenarios with no resistance at all?
When I was living in the addiction, I cherished the fantasy world in my mind. I would think about anything that promised instant gratification. What I didn’t realize at the time was that it wasn’t always sexual. Sometimes I imagined being President of the United States, bringing peace through every decision I made. Other times I pictured myself in a courtroom, always having the perfect argument and the final word.
Even now, it’s easy for my mind to run ahead—rehearsing a conversation about asking for a raise, trying to predict what someone will say, planning my responses. Entire conversations play out in my head before they ever happen.
I’m grateful I’ve learned about surrender. But it’s still hard to catch myself in those moments of fantasy—especially when the fantasy seems positive. World peace doesn’t sound like a bad thing to imagine, right? That feels like a “good” fantasy.
But fantasy—good or bad—still pulls me out of reality. It pulls me out of the present moment.
In my mind, I can be the president everyone respects. I can solve massive problems. But it’s not realistic. It’s also probably never going to happen. More importantly, it subtly feeds the belief that I’m the one who can fix everything, instead of trusting God. It takes me away from being present with what’s actually in front of me.
I’ve noticed that these fantasies tend to show up when I’m stressed or anxious. That awareness has been powerful. Now, when I catch myself mentally scripting how a work conversation will unfold, I can choose to surrender instead. I can return to what’s real and be present with what’s actually happening.
It’s easy to tell someone else, “This is how you should live.” As an addict, I often thought I had all the answers. But practicing this is much harder than explaining it. Once the boulder of fantasy starts rolling downhill, it gains momentum and becomes harder to stop. That’s why I have to catch it early: recognize the fantasy, surrender it, and return to the present.
This matters most in my relationships—especially with my wife. Fantasy used to creep in during moments that were meant for connection. After having kids, time together drops dramatically—maybe to 5–10% of what it once was. That makes presence even more important.
If I only have a small window of time to connect with her, I can’t afford to be somewhere else in my mind. I can’t be thinking about work, projects, or my to-do list while she’s talking. Those things will still be there tomorrow. The list will get done. The project will eventually be finished.
But this moment won’t come back.
The point I’m trying to make is this: fantasy pulls us out of reality. It steals our ability to be present with the people who depend on us and need us most. It’s subtle, and it’s hard to catch. But when I surrender to God, I can return to what’s real. I can reconnect. I can be present.
And that’s where real life actually happens.
God Bless!