gifts

last week was my birthday.  that, in my world, is an event.  my parents made a big deal about birthdays (and holidays) when i was growing up, giving my transient family a sense of tradition that would provide us with a feeling of home as we moved from base to base. as a result, i play up the birthdays of all my friends and loved ones... and i celebrate my own in the same manner.

this birthday was not one of the best. i got in a huge fight with a loved one that ended up disrupting a majority of the day's plans.  and a yearly call i was expecting from another loved one didn't light up my phone, despite my constant monitoring. these let downs seemed magnified on my birthday, and i cried and felt depressed all afternoon and evening as a couple of friends visited and others facetimed and called to try to talk it through with me.

all i wanted was to have a glass of wine.  or six.  i wanted to just go out with my best friend and shrug it all off; to pretend like i wasn't hurt and fucking celebrate my birthday.

but there was one additional complication: i gave up drinking for my birthday.

last fall i toyed, for this first time, with being sober.  i blogged about the journey as i started with 40 days, extended it as i was "assigned" an additional 40 days by elena brower (ex-life coach, present and eternal teacher), and then the lessons i learned about myself along the way.

but there were a few things i left out, even in my honesty: 1) the real reason i started the first 40 days, and 2) the depth of the concern i had that i couldn't do it; that i enjoyed alcohol maybe a little too much for me to give it up for even 40 days.

the real reason i started the 40 days?  the rape i didn't really want to talk about yet.  yes, i wrote a vague blog about it.  yes, i named it as rape and several days later even reported it.  yes, i was doing a lot of things to process.  but the initial motivator for the 40 days was when my research assistant asked me "do you think you're drinking more?" as part of a post-rape self-care inventory.

"no," i immediately replied, insistent, even to myself, that i was handling this.  but when i got home and got in the bath that night, i noticed there was a large glass of wine in my hand.  and i thought, "i don't normally automatically pour wine when i walk into the house." and my next thought: FUCK.

and so, the 40 days.  i wanted to demonstrate that my life would not be negatively affected.  i wanted to show myself i had the strength to do something i didn't think i could (thematic in my life).

and that's where that second omission surfaces:  i had concerns about my ability to stop drinking. in my first post about it, i even seem to minimize the sobriety aspect of the 40 days with the calorie counting moratorium i threw in to the challenge. (side note: the calorie counting was actually harder for the first several days... and that behavior had plagued me much longer!) but i had deeper, more secretive worries about giving up drinking: some related to social situations, but others were around the relationship (or obsession) i've cultivated with avoidance mechanisms.

i've blogged more openly about bulimia and dating as avoidance, but not about drinking.  drinking, with most of my friends, is not something we need to talk about.  because it's assumed that everyone is always drinking.  a lot.  you could blame it on the penn state influence, australian norms, or the single-in-the-city lifestyle.  but a majority of my friends are drinkers. so why would i concern myself with analyzing an avoidance mechanism that is an acceptable part of my life and relationships?

each drinking event i attended sober became easier and easier.  sober dates and sober holidays and sober vacations followed.  it was more recently that i came across some life planning notes, from life coaching work with elena, that hit home the non-named concern i had with drinking at the start of the 40 days.

excerpt from work written 5/5/14:

Things friends have said recently, but I tucked away due to denial:
Hal: Does your drinking every worry you?
Owen: It’s basically like rape when we have sex and you’re that drunk.
Matt: Yeah, I didn’t realize we always do that [drink so much when together].
Kitty: But we don’t have a problem, right? We’re young and single; we wouldn’t do this if we had families.

dare i say i'm thankful for the impetus to start the 40 day journey?  reading about my previous denial scared me. i wondered if the "sober thing" would have ever appealed to me.  emergency room visits and blackouts hadn't influenced me to change my behavior; who's to say that anything would have?

in the 7 months after the "40" days, i haven't had much to drink on any one occasion.  i've learned i don't like alcohol or its after effects on my body or mind. and i LOVE being totally clear in my life and intentions.

this is how i 37.

and yet i've been afraid to totally give up alcohol.  isn't it nice to have that one glass of wine occasionally?  isn't it therapeutic to have a martini with a friend when they really need it?  isn't it socially acceptable to have a glass of champagne while attending a wedding? i had a million reasons not to give it up.

and then, about a week before my birthday, i realized the problem.  i was looking at this from a perspective of lack, and the only solution to that was to re-frame it.  and so i did: this birthday i gave myself the gift of not drinking (ever again).  the disappointing july 6th had no wine; the party with all my friends the next day had no whiskey (well, none in my glass!); the birthday dinner the following night had no cocktails. 

but i have so much more. 

and this, my loves, is the how, the why, and the what of my 37th birthday. 

surrendering to transformation

we all need some transformation. there's always room for change, for finding something more full, more truthful, and more closely aligned with our best self.

i'm constantly looking for things to ignite further transformation: images, advice, mantras, meditations, reflections, yoga practices, coaches, mentors... i want to push it, ignite it, stoke the flame, and feel the transformation blaze and burn through to better, to my best.

but half of transformation is surrendering. it's those times when i'm soft, open, and at peace that embers of transformation really start to catch. that little starter flame inside just needs oxygen to get it going: that space where i pause and breathe gives my inner fire room to grow.

this morning i did a yogaglo class about transformation. i made some assumptions about how the class would play out: about what asanas we would practice, about how the teachers would approach the class, and about how i would feel as i went through it. i was about 95% wrong. the class was amazing, and it certainly ignited something... but mostly in the spaces between asanas. when i paused, stopped, and really felt, i could feel it happening. i could notice my mind shift, and i started to feel more inner space being forged through the controlled burn.

how much time do we spend approaching problems in the opposite way, though? how much do we try to force things? to push through? to search for the answer as quickly as possible? as if knowing something sooner is what we need. i do this with relationships, and i've seen at least one of my besties do it too. i want to know whether something is going to make or break a friendship or romantic relationship. i want to know if the relationship is worth continuing. i want to know how the other person is going to respond to something. i want everyone else's opinion on how this whole thing is going to play out. analyze, analyze, analyze, do, do, do.

(pause) (breathe)

when i stop the activity, i usually already know the answers. when i surrender, when i allow space, i know where to go. i know which path to follow. i can hear my heart forging a new path, and i can begin to follow it.

it's particularly hard to allow that space in the midst of a challenging situation, whether it is part of relating to others or to ourselves. one of my closest experienced a rejection from a scholastic program earlier this year, and then, last week, from a job he had spent a lot of time working toward and interviewing for. i could see him looking for the shreds of "why," analyzing what could have been done differently, and making the attack plan for next time. i felt a little helpless and heartbroken watching this. i wanted to offer comfort, assistance, inspiration, distraction... whatever would feel most helpful to him.

another close friend has been feeling panicky about her mothering skills: anxieties and fears that she isn't good enough or strong enough as a mother have been haunting her recently. listening to her shaky voice, and hearing of the time she has spent in tears, is equally distressing to my heart.

i think both of my friends are ready for some transformation. and i'm pretty sure they know it too. i'm not suggesting that the first friend should completely lay back and let his career just "happen," and i'm not suggesting the mother should ignore the struggles her daughter is helping her find. but i think that these challenges are exactly what they needed.

because each challenge in our life is always EXACTLY what we need. whether or not we choose to see it or acknowledge it at the time.

so i'm looking at a challenge in my life right now, and i'm saying thank you to that challenge. for the transformation it may inspire. for the new self that will come out on the other side. ...but i'm not going to force it. i will breathe a little in that space and start to fan the flame. i'm pretty sure the transformation will happen. it's clearly just what i need.