To me, quitting alcohol is not so much a thing in itself as it is a component of finding peace within myself. Finding some place to be quiet, warm, content, peaceful. Quiet.
Alcohol was part of my racing around looking for this. It was a major element of my resistance to myself (though not at all the only one) — resistance to my own peace, to my anxiety, to my fears. I’m convinced that peace is found on the other side of letting go of that resistance. The layers are many and subtle. It’s the journey.
Tonight I’m going to the first evening of a weekend workshop on “empowerment.” On increasing one’s receptivity to growth. I’m a real science-head (in my work and in my mindset), and this workshop is on the intuitive/higher consciousness side. (See? I just made a dichotomy out of that.) So we’ll see. I’ve had one meeting with the woman who holds the workshops, and it was amazing. She says she sees beyond what I can see, and I’m inclined to believe her.
I’ve been, oh, marveling at my openness to this “intuitive” way of knowing and expanding oneself, at how it can coexist with my view of the universe as operating coldly and through knowable laws. I say “coldly” with great affection and respect. My partner pointed out that I’m simply being empirical in an area where scientists don’t go very much. Well, okay.
So I’ll let you know how it goes. I figure it can only help my walk away from alcohol to melt my blindspots, warm my inner nervousness, and pack away my rigid thinking in the closet in the spare room, for a bit. (Multiply-mixed metaphors must be a sign of a loosening mind, right?)