This is exactly what I needed to read this morning.
When I was drinking, life was drink, promise not to drink, drink, promise not to drink. I really never got too far beyond that.
Now, it's more. So so much more. It's beautiful, messy, sometimes quiet and exactly how it should be.
As I posted before, about one of my last night's in the bar: I was sitting there. The front door of the bar was open to let in a breeze. Outside of the bar is a park and a walking trail. It was a beautiful day. Both the trail and the park was full. I was sitting on a bar stool. The bar was mostly empty with a sports commentator speaking in the background. The bartender was halfway slumped over the bar, looking outside. The other gentleman was starting at his cigarette, either to avoid looking outside or because there was nothing else to do. I took a drink of my beer. The contrast between those outside and those of us inside was startling.
I almost felt, in that moment, as if I was in a scene of a movie where a person is trapped and though he screams, pounds at the door, begs for help, no one can hear him. Outside, as he continues to fight to get out, he sees people going about their lives. People reuniting at the end of the day with those they love; kids running around, screaming and laughing.
It was then that I realized that while, in the beginning, I thought alcohol gave me a life, I'd have to quit to finally find it.
Good post. Very thought provoking.