A Noble Thing
Do you know what it's like to live with sadness for an entire year? To smile without peace, to laugh without amusement, and to love only halfway? I lived for a year with a heavy sadness toward certain events that happened last summer, and toward certain people that I thought betrayed me. Those events are what sent me to my bottom: drinking every day, doing cocaine again, desperately hiding my emotions, and chain smoking. Over this past year I've moved through several layers of forgiveness and letting go, but I still had this hard pit in my heart that drove me crazy, but also fueled my desire to not drink and to move to Hawai'i.
A few days ago I was driving around my hometown smoking a cigarette. It was nighttime, crickets chirping, headlights flashing between the trees on the other side of the lake. I had both front windows down, and suddenly a warm breeze blew through the car, over my face, and out again. Like a heavy blanket taken from my shoulders, I finally felt the sadness lift from me and dissapear out of the window. I started laughing and shaking, nearly dropping my cigarette. It was subtle, unexpected, and powerful, like many of God's greatest deeds.
Finally, after many torturously long nights and uncomfortable days, I felt my new life open up like a book. I opened up too. I cried, and felt vulnerable and strong at the same time. The people that had hurt me, and the shame and humilitation I placed upon myself left me. The next day I started to feel like the old resentment was coming back, and once again I was driving at night and another warm breeze blew through the car and cleansed me of that sadness, for the final time. It hasn't returned, and it never will. Not saying that I'll never be sad or upset again, but a lesson was learned.
However, after the resentment was gone, I became very afraid. Afraid I made the wrong decision to move, afraid that I would regret it, afraid I'd never see certain friends again, afraid that nothing would be as good as I've dreamed. All that anger and sadness was gone, and I realized that I hadn't fully wanted it gone, because my ego was covering up for my insecurities, using the drama of the past betrayal as a reason to move and to stay sober. Basically I was running away, and a part of me knew that all along. I thought now that I was free from the past, why not drink again? Party? Stay at home? Go back to college? I thought I was losing the will to leave, I thought I had been too rash in my decision, maybe too blinded by new sobriety. I thought why would God betray me by giving me that enormous desire to move and then take it away?
Then I thought, maybe God wanted me to have the final say-so. Now that I've moved on, I suppose I could still live at home. I can stay, or I can leave. Now that, my friends, is power. Options. Before, my ego wouldn't let me have options. I could either get away from home or drink again and probably kill myself. God knew that, and decided I was ready to make the decision with a clear head and full heart. If the sadness had been taken away any earlier, I may have changed my mind.
Now I'm leaving home because of my desire to lead a spiritual life, to seek God and true wisdom, and I'd be lying if I didn't mention I would love to live by the ocean and surf every day. I'm not running away with my tail tucked between my legs, I'm going on an adventure as a free woman with the confidence to know I'm making a good decision for the right reasons. A decision made by free will in the pursuit of Truth is a noble thing, but a decision made by ego in the pursuit of a pipe dream of eternal righteousness is the precursor to unhappiness. And in my case and for other alcoholics, another drink.
Ah, sweet, sweet freedom. God is beside me always.
A few days ago I was driving around my hometown smoking a cigarette. It was nighttime, crickets chirping, headlights flashing between the trees on the other side of the lake. I had both front windows down, and suddenly a warm breeze blew through the car, over my face, and out again. Like a heavy blanket taken from my shoulders, I finally felt the sadness lift from me and dissapear out of the window. I started laughing and shaking, nearly dropping my cigarette. It was subtle, unexpected, and powerful, like many of God's greatest deeds.
Finally, after many torturously long nights and uncomfortable days, I felt my new life open up like a book. I opened up too. I cried, and felt vulnerable and strong at the same time. The people that had hurt me, and the shame and humilitation I placed upon myself left me. The next day I started to feel like the old resentment was coming back, and once again I was driving at night and another warm breeze blew through the car and cleansed me of that sadness, for the final time. It hasn't returned, and it never will. Not saying that I'll never be sad or upset again, but a lesson was learned.
However, after the resentment was gone, I became very afraid. Afraid I made the wrong decision to move, afraid that I would regret it, afraid I'd never see certain friends again, afraid that nothing would be as good as I've dreamed. All that anger and sadness was gone, and I realized that I hadn't fully wanted it gone, because my ego was covering up for my insecurities, using the drama of the past betrayal as a reason to move and to stay sober. Basically I was running away, and a part of me knew that all along. I thought now that I was free from the past, why not drink again? Party? Stay at home? Go back to college? I thought I was losing the will to leave, I thought I had been too rash in my decision, maybe too blinded by new sobriety. I thought why would God betray me by giving me that enormous desire to move and then take it away?
Then I thought, maybe God wanted me to have the final say-so. Now that I've moved on, I suppose I could still live at home. I can stay, or I can leave. Now that, my friends, is power. Options. Before, my ego wouldn't let me have options. I could either get away from home or drink again and probably kill myself. God knew that, and decided I was ready to make the decision with a clear head and full heart. If the sadness had been taken away any earlier, I may have changed my mind.
Now I'm leaving home because of my desire to lead a spiritual life, to seek God and true wisdom, and I'd be lying if I didn't mention I would love to live by the ocean and surf every day. I'm not running away with my tail tucked between my legs, I'm going on an adventure as a free woman with the confidence to know I'm making a good decision for the right reasons. A decision made by free will in the pursuit of Truth is a noble thing, but a decision made by ego in the pursuit of a pipe dream of eternal righteousness is the precursor to unhappiness. And in my case and for other alcoholics, another drink.
Ah, sweet, sweet freedom. God is beside me always.
