Are you opting in?

The sound of the shower turning on. A nose blown. The smell of Old Spice and Listerine. Daylight not yet. These things ping my senses, some real, some imagined in my fevered delusion. I wake up for a blip. Yep, still sick. I get to opt out again today. And that’s my husband getting dressed for work, not my father. So weird how my dad’s smells come rushing right back into my nose though, even when I can’t smell a thing.

When I’m sick, my membranes are thin. I feel porous, more open to receive. With the day-to-day chores unattainable, I can lie in bed and re-jenga my life and priorities. I don’t opt out of much anymore, not since I quit drinking. Rephrase: I do opt out, but it’s now dictated by discernment and not a hangover. No one likes to be sick (and I never want to be hungover again) but I do appreciate the change in perspective that all that bed time allows.

I’ve opted in a lot this month. That was one of my intentions for 2023. I’ve had so much engagement that I could feel my heart literally expand. And even though through all that people-ing I caught the bug, I have no regrets. I’m grateful to have no conditions that would make it worse than it’s been. I’m ready for my next dance.

I know I’m supposed to be hand-wringing worried about so much right now: a still threatening virus, a tanking economy, leaders puffing their chests, bullets aimed and stray. And I do. But I’m also opting into beauty. I’m opting into friends and art and my family and joy and I’m opting into love. In fact, I’m doubling down on love. It’s the only way.

Never Cease To Be Surprised

A common theme throughout my drinking years was that I constantly did things I didn't intend to do. I didn't intend to jump off that cliff on the rafting trip, I didn't intend to go home with that guy, I didn't intend to skip Thanksgiving, I didn't mean to piss people off and I didn't mean to not come home that night. My last day of drinking was the best example of this. I went to a party I didn't want to go to, I drank when I didn't want to, got drunk when I didn't intend to, pissed off my husband and scared my children when I didn't mean to and woke up at 2am in an unwanted sweaty panic, again. Once I had my first drink, I could never ever make a single decision that aligned with my intentions. It turned my life into one big reaction. 

This described my life even outside of the party, the party of many and of one. I never felt like I was the captain of my own ship, the person responsible for the quality of my life. And I honestly felt like this was something that could never be fixed. I felt like I was too old, it was too late, the patterns were set, the story was written. A bottom can be any moment when you've had enough. It's when you are ready to jump back in the captain's chair, take over the wheel and right the course, even if you don't have a map.

After the shock of waking up without a hangover subsided (actually, still amazing), I had to find things to do and actions to take that were meaningful to me. I needed a thing to get me out of bed each and every morning. That thing started as my morning zen run with podcasts I was excited about, books I could be present for, coffee, more coffee. That thing evolved into this blog, personal projects and collaborative projects that have developed from new relationships I've made through sobriety.

That brings me to something I've shared on some of my other social media platforms but I wanted to put out one last call here.

My friend Tammi Salas and I are looking for some creative sober bloggers or instagrammers who would be interested in doing an art exchange and then be willing to share what you receive, tag/link participants, etc. Themes will be recovery-based and all mediums accepted (as long as it can be emailed/snail-mailed). Contact me if you are interested. We want to get this party started in September and there will be more info to follow.

Some days are just to be tolerated. Some days I just need to merely get through to get to the elusive 'something better'. That's okay.  Regardless, when the shitstorms come and rain down on me, and they do, sobriety is my umbrella. It is intentional and ready.