Stuck Giving it to Me

Other people’s opinions are none of my business.

Others’ health choices are none of my business.

Others’ fury, rage, and irritation are none of my business.

Others’ relationships are none of my business.

What is my business? Me.

My energy.

My frequency.

My love.

Shoulds are unwelcome advice.

Shoulds create distance in the heart and mind.

Wanting better lives for others is loving.

Decreeing is not.

Camouflaged judgment is often collective.

There’s no joy there.

It is soul sucking.

And it’s sneaky.

The muddled mess of love is confusing.

I pray for freedom from suffering, for wise decisions, for lightness.

Booze-free, I see, feel, sense and love so much more.

I’m not distracted, headed to the bar for another round or to the kitchen for another bottle.

I’m not pouring or thinking of pouring.

More is not an act of love.

I thought it was.

Fill ‘er up. That’s care. Not so.

At 26 months alcohol free, I’m new to uncovering.

What lies beneath past behaviors and beliefs?

Pouring enabled sharing, connecting, entering-in together.

Entering into inebriation - I loved it.

I loved the buzz, the brilliance.

The next day, I’d be baffled as my body spoke the truth.

Lucky me, hangovers set me straight . . . for a week or two.

Shame, shakes, chills, self-loathing.

My body and heart’s rejection of what I thought was good.

I prayed to live, to really, really live.

The runaway train of “Open Another One” offered a free ticket to remorse.

I didn’t want the nights to end.

Let’s stay out all night -

Seize the American Graffiti opportunity of big change in the midst.

And I often didn’t remember it all.

It scared the shit out of me.

And I hated myself.

I’d recuperate for a week or two and do it again.

What was it?

I was not an addict, never a daily drinker, never a lone imbiber.

I thought this made me okay . . . until I knew I wasn’t.

White knuckling through a party was an eye-opener.

I learned how to be stuck being me.

And now I see me in others.

I feel that they are not okay.

It is not fair for me to project myself onto them.

I want to give them what I have now.

I want to pour the glass of clarity into their hearts.

I want to help flush toxins from their systems.

I want them to feel what I feel -

love, Light, grief, empathy, sadness, delight, compassion.

It’s none of my business.

It sounds like I want others to be me.

I surely do not.

I drank to escape the reality of me in the presence of others.

I drank to enter into a different domain -

to get out of my own discomfort and awkwardness,

to find things to talk about,

to experience “music that soothes the soul.”

My deep feelings overwhelm me.

They take over when I’m sober, and they took over when I drank.

I would not wish this on anyone.

My life is one big exercise in self-regulation with limited success.

“Success is the process.” - Mark Damon

Thank you, Matt.

I’m sticking with that story.

I’m living the process of being with the reality of what is.

When I drank, I operated in distortion.

A great song led to a leap on a chair or a table or a stage.

It made perfect sense at the time.

It was truly the spirit moving me, a substance - not the Holy Spirit.

Now I see people dance on tables.

I think, “Oh, yes. I remember.”

A kindred recognition.

Now I feel the freedom of my true spirit with my feet on the floor.

I want to give this feeling to others.

I want to package self-acceptance, put a bow on it, and send it in the post.

I want to hand over a good night’s sleep.

I want to give clarity, laughter and lightness.

Add courage to face pain, grief and sadness to the list.

Strength. Fortitude. Surrender.

Faith and wisdom to grow and flourish.

To be with it all. And to dance.

A stunning sunrise, a breath-taking sunset,

a gurgle from a baby, a snuggle, a song lyric at just the right moment,

a significant passage, a meaningful story,

I think, “My beloved would love this.”

Gifts of awareness,

of peace with my beloved.

Challenges remain.

I wish I could give the joy of “being better at the hard.”

I wish I could share in the uncovering,

the discoveries, the before-and-afters,

the “isn’t it amazing “ moments with my beloved.

The now.

My beloved is everyone.