Tag: Soberiety

Just Being

Published on by freefallingintoasoberlife2 Comments

Well! My SO and I drove to meet”the brothers” for lunch last week.

I can say it was interesting-in many, many ways. There were two of them.  And with one of them, I felt some kind of energetic connection from the get go.  The other one, not so much.  As soon as we sat down, the waitress came to take our drink order and to my surprise my SO ordered some beer that they were advertising on the table.  One of the brothers almost immediately said the neither one of them drank any more.  That they’d both been heavy drinkers from a young age.  Hmmm! Whaddaya know!  I didn’t respond to that. Anyway, we were there for like 3 1/2 hours!  They had put together a thumb drive with a jillion pictures on it-explaining who everyone was-with lots of my birth mother. There was no discomfort on my part or theirs for that matter.They were definitely more interested in filling me in about my “history” than hearing about my upbringing. I suppose that’s to be expected.  Actually, I don’t really know what is to be expected in this kind of situation.

As I think I may have said in my last post, I really wasn’t looking for a family thing.  And to be honest, it really found me. I tell you what!  If I hadn’t been given up for adoption, I would have been raised almost the polar opposite of how I was.

So, what did I take away? Of course, I talked about it the whole 2 hour drive back to Austin.  And I have to say my SO was very patient and open about that.  Anyway, I think one of the biggest things was my lack of feeling or connection while looking at ALL those photos. Even at the ones where I resembled someone.  I realized, that for me, memories are so important!  Before we went, I pulled out a box of old family photos mainly of me- my brother has his-throughout my life .  And just the memories that came up-the settings, the people.  All of that.  So looking at all of those “family” photos of my birth family without any memories to go with them, well, they didn’t really mean much.  There were lots of Christmas pictures-lots of lake pictures, lots of pictures taken in the country-one of a family reunion with a Confederate flag flying high in the background. Of course, if you’ve read any of my blog you know that I was raised in a Jewish family.  We didn’t hunt squirrel-certainly didn’t celebrate Christmas-none of that.  I don’t mean to diminish them-I think they have good memories of growing up.  It’s just stuff that I have never, ever resonated with.  Even while experiencing some of these things with friends growing up.  One of the brothers made, while maybe not an anti-Semitic remark-something that just didn’t sit right with me.  We were talking about prejudice and I was recounting how in the 8th grade the class bully came up to me and pretty much yelled out that I had killed Jesus.  Shit! I didn’t have a clue as to what the hell he was talking about! Anyway, the brother remarked that I didn’t have to worry about it because I wasn’t Jewish.  Was that anti-Semitic?  I’m not exactly sure, but it somehow felt like he meant it’s okay for people to bully others.  I can’t put it into words, but it’s really bothered me.  Like, it’s okay to put children in cages because they’re not mine and I’m not Latin American.  Anyway, I let it pass and didn’t react.  Even though I had told them that while I didn’t practice Judaism, culturally that’s what I identify with.  That’s in me and it’s not going away-nor would I want it to.

Another thing that became apparent while looking through the pictures is that everyone smoked and drank-a lot.  Supposedly the stepfather drank a lot.  My birth mother smoked  til she was 76.  Jeez!  It made me wonder if I’d even still be alive if I’d grown up in that environment.  I mean, I drank and drugged like a maniac living in a family where no one drank.  I mean when my parents had company, they put out a pitcher of tomato juice for God sake!

I don’t know.  I want to be clear here.  These people couldn’t have been more welcoming. I am in no way trying to diminish or demean them.  But at the same time, my feelings that I was raised with the people and the way I was supposed to be raised just got reinforced a hundred fold.  Ok, and now I’ll get a little metaphysical here.  Here goes.  I think that my parents were with an adoption agency.  They probably had ties all over the country.  They specified that they wanted a girl.  So, when I was born, they were contacted.  I have the original papers releasing me to my parents dated 2 days after my birth.  So, it was a last minute thing.. And because of that, my father couldn’t get off work.  So my mother-who had never been on an airplane before flew into Texas from Nebraska and got me.  She came alone.  And-here’s the vision part-as I was thinking on this the other day, I just got this intense vision of this almost visible bond of love that came from her and just surrounded me the first time she held me.  I’m sure that I was pretty fussy the first few weeks- of course I was! I’d been separated from my birth mother. But my mother-the woman who wanted a daughter so much that she would overcome her fears to get me, just enveloped me in a love that never knew any bounds. When I saw this, I just felt so very blessed.  And so extremely thankful that I have experienced the life I have.

I also touched on something in my last post that I would like to raise again.  I was wondering if all of this would have happened if I’d still been drinking.  Of course I’ll never know that-although I can certainly picture how I would have handled it if I was still knocking back the vino.  But I had said something about it maybe taking this long in my sobriety-almost 3 1/2years for some kind of energy to flow.  For some channels to open.  Yes, in these 3 1/2 years, things have been so much better.  Just not having hangovers or the mental anguish-all of that.  But while that was happening, I think some kind of clearing was going on.  Something that had been shut a very long time ago opened.  And so for anyone reading this, this is what I have to say to you.  Forget about all of my family stuff.  What I want you to know is that the longer you go without drinking, the more open the channels become-the current becomes stronger.  It goes from being a barely there dim light at the end of a very long tunnel to a strong free flowing energetic current that is YOU! The other day, a friend of mine wanted to know what I was doing.  She said I just seemed so powerful and so grounded.

“Just Being”, I said.

With Love

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Self Serve

Published on by freefallingintoasoberlife5 Comments

When I was thinking about what to write about today,  I had this kind of split second flash that “I used to be a drinker”.  And almost couldn’t quite believe it.  I mean there are so many people that have so much more sober time than me.  But even so, in some ways, there’s a big disconnect between “then” and “now”.  Time wise, not so much- 2 3/4 years- or 32 months. 32 Months!! Wow! When I think of it like that, it doesn’t seem like that much.  But oh! It’s a lifetime.  I could list all of the positive things that have happened with this 32 month change of life.  But that would feel redundant. I mean, I’ve written about them as have so many people- much more eloquently than I.  However, having said that, I  have noticed a few things.  The first being that I’m really glad not to be drinking during this time of political upheaval here in the U S of A.  I’d be ranting (more than I do if that’s possible) and probably having crying jags every few days.  But there’s something else, and while I’m not sure it has to do with my sobriety, it might.                                                            It’s hard for me to articulate, because it’s so subtle. At least to me.                                         So, if you’ve read much of my blog (and I apologize for not writing more often recently) you know that I followed a dream and lived in the Mexican Caribbean for a time.  And while I moved back, because it was the right thing to do at that point, I still had a deep love for that little island that I used to live on.  I still continued to visit it when I could and keep in touch with some of the remaining friends that I have there. So, this past July I decided to go visit.  Mainly because my SO needed to go to London for the sale of a house he owns.  He didn’t want me to go with him because he didn’t want me giving him directions on how to clean out said house, attic, etc. Moi???  Ha!  So, I decided that I needed a break from all the crazy here-all the news-all of the awareness that there are so many people that are really fucked up making laws as that effect me and millions.  So, I decided that I was going to Mexico.  A budget trip. Well guess who wanted to come? My SO!  I was stunned as he doesn’t really like it there.  I was clear that I was only contributing so much and anything else he was going to have to pay for.  We weren’t doing anything fancy that might appeal to his London lifestyle esthetic.  He agreed.  So off we went to Mexico.  For 10 days.  We did decide to spend the last night in Cancun where we did all the fancy shmancy stuff he likes. I like it too-just wasn’t what I was thinking of in the beginning.  And, here’s the thing, by that last night I was ready to leave that little island.   That place that had been a part of me for so long.  The place that I thought was “the home of my soul”.  The place that gave me solace in bad times.  That place that I was in love with longer than any other relationship I’ve ever been in.  It didn’t do it for me anymore.  The love affair was over.  Yes, it had changed some in the 2 years since I’d been there-and not in a good way.  Not for me anyway.  Without listing all of the changes, let it suffice to say that for me, the energy no longer gave me the same feelings that it has for the past 30 or so years.  I was hyper aware of an almost constant party vibe.  Much of the cultural draw for me has been lost.  Have you ever seen that movie, “The Beach”? About a hedonistic place in Thailand?  That’s what it felt like to me.  I fell out of love.  (Funnily, my SO liked it more this trip than any other!  But he got what I was saying.)  And while there have been numerous things that have changed-as well as a huge growth in their tourism because of the likes of TripAdvisor, it was an undercurrent of something that just didn’t feel right for me.                                                                                                                                                  Would I have felt this if I’d continued to drink these past 32 months?  I don’t really know. Maybe-at least a little. But as much as that little island has changed, I think the main thing is I’ve changed!  And it’s been so ongoingly gradual, I haven’t really noticed.  I guess it was kind of like when you’re going to see the person you dated for years in college or an ex fiancée and then realize that there was absolutely no reason to get nervous-they’re not who you’d want to be with.  I feel lucky to have lived on that island when I did and to know it before it turned into whatever it is now. Lucky to have followed a dream of mine.  And grateful for all that it gave me.  But now, it no longer serves me.                                                                                                                                                            It no longer serves me.                                                                                                               Now there’s some words.  Kind of like-or exactly like- drinking my nights away. So here’s the thing to think about-and as I write this it’s not so much for you but a reminder to myself.  The goal is to have the consciousness to ask ourselves if something is going to serve us.  Is it something that will enhance our lives or something that will impair our lives?  Are we doing things to help our healing process along and enable us to live at our fullest potential?  Are we allowing ourselves to truly feel all of our emotions, all of our pain and discomfort as well as our joy?  Are we experiencing our best self?  Are we open to overcoming our fear of being who we really are?  Not who we were told to be by our parents, or family members or other facets of society-but who we are at our core-where that Truth is always patiently waiting for us to embrace it, to own it.                                                                      So, don’t be afraid to acknowledge when something no longer serves you. Don’t be afraid to walk away from a situation that’s not enhancing your life.                                                     Will I ever go back to that little island? I don’t know-maybe. Not anytime soon. It served me so well, for so long. And now, that love affair is over.  One more breakup.

Namaste❤️