One Year

Today marks one year without using alcohol. I don't do well at celebrating sobriety anniversaries; I've had many one-year sobriety anniversaries, and, at this point in life, abstaining from alcohol is not the most challenging accomplishment for me today. To be honest, I celebrate my time away from alcohol for these reasons: it's the only quantifiable thing about my recovery, others in recovery seem to enjoy it, and it gives hope to newcomers in recovery.

After some contemplation this morning, I was able to wrap my head around the concept of noting a milestone in recovery, just like I noted the milestone of my 60th birthday a few months ago - something that probably would not have happened if I had not been in recovery. I use milestones when I bicycle. Some of the trails I use have mile markers, and when I meet them it's always nice to know that I have the strength and energy, skill, and good fortune to have made it another mile. I might stop and rest for a moment at a mile marker, drink some water, eat a banana, perhaps even take a picture. But I don't stay there too long - I'm back on the path pretty quickly, continuing my journey. And while the accomplishment of the last mile feels good, especially if it's been uphill, it's no guarantor that I'll be able to complete the next mile. It's one pedal at a time, and we'll see what happens.

For me, the real accomplishment of the past year is that I abstained from giving up. I didn't give up on life, on recovery - I didn't give up on myself. Oh, I had plenty of excuses - I'm too old, I'm too mentally ill, I'm too damaged, I'm too tired, I've suffered too many disappointments. But I gave it another shot, and if there's any nobility in that, then I'm noble. 

I am grateful that I don't have a much of a desire to drink or use again. Cravings for the substance are something that many people who are in their first attempt at recovery find troublesome. What I do share with those who are truly attempting recovery and new at it are feelings of guilt, shame, doom, and major lack of confidence in my ability to sustain recovery over the long haul.

So the major accomplishment of the past year is that I have said "yes!" to life and to the daily challenges of overcoming the self-destructive thinking that has plagued me and caused me and others so much suffering. And I finally surrendered to the fact that I cannot do this alone - that I must let others into my life, and not just at a surface level. I must be willing to let people I trust see me at my darkest and dirtiest - when I feel the worst about myself. It's a challenge to establish and foster connections with others in recovery, but it hasn't been as bad and scary as I thought it would be, and I am the better for it.

I think one of the major surprises from the past year, and one by which I am truly humbled, is that I am able to offer real hope and support to others desiring recovery. This discovery has been one of the things that has sustained me through the inevitable low points. My feelings of self-worth and self-esteem (which are essential to my recovery) are only gradually improving; yet there is a preponderance of evidence that says my experience, strength, & hope - in other words, my recovery and my life - are valuable to others. There is evidence that I am looked up to and respected in some parts of the recovery community, as well as in other places. So when it feels to me as if my life has no value, that I have no purpose on Earth aside from creating carbon dioxide, I am able to look at the evidence, and show up for life anyway until the feeling passes. I don't have to be perfect to be valued, maybe even loved, by other human beings. This is truly a new concept to me.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention how important mindfulness meditation is to my recovery. It's essential. The practice has given me a degree of separation between me and my thinking, which I've never really had before. This means that I no longer have to identify with what my head is telling me. I recognize that there is probably a different reality than is what is going on in my mind. In this way, I am able to take action to let go of thinking and feeling and moods which no longer serve my best interest. As I mentioned, this is a practice, so I'm not perfect at it, but I'm a far cry from where I used to be. I no longer feel compelled to create my own suffering.

Lastly, I must mention all of the angels I have in my life, both in person and on social media (which I have learned to use wisely and skillfully). All of you who are trying to live your best life, and share that with me, either actively or passively, are angels. I cannot doubt the goodness of the Universe which I see manifest every day in the people who cross my path, and I am most grateful. Thank you for being you!

So my heart is filled with gratitude today for the life I have today.

Thank you, and namasté,

Ken