I Decided

Twice, well kind of three times

13 years ago - my sobriety bat mitzvah! - I made a decision. That’s the easiest way of saying it. But that decision wasn’t instantaneous. Like a lot of decisions. It happened one day at a time. Before I even understood what one day a time meant.

Sharing it here for anyone who is wrestling with this decision. And wondering how to decide. Or who hasn’t even begin wondering. But now - seeing this - might wonder about wondering about this.

Many opportunities to wonder eluded me until I finally did begin to wonder.

First, I reluctantly agreed to an Angel healing. Angels have always been my woo woo line in the sand. If they were so powerful why is there all that bad angel art? Anyway. I was interviewing famed angel healer Doreen Virtue and she told me my angels said I couldn’t smoke. Can I drink, I asked. She listened. Yes, they say you can drink. I thought that gave the angels more credibility. At least they weren’t against partying per se.

Still I don’t know if I would have done anything about it. Except later on in the healing I asked about my persistent and undiagnosable back pain.

Oh, you have a huge psychic dagger in your back, she said.

What?! That was exactly what it felt like!

Do you want me to take it out?

No. As long as I know what it is. Ha ha.

It’s out she said.

And it’s its own story about me accepting that and how I did. But I did. And the back pain never came back. So I was forced to take these angels seriously. And their advice. So I decided to quit pot. And then I decided again and again. Until finally after half a hit and still being high the next day at a friend’s kids’ Xmas show - surrounded by the intense vibe of fathers with cameras in a church - I decided for what was, I believe these 13 years later, the last time.

But from that December 21 until August 27 I never considered quitting drinking as well. After all, the angels had said it was ok.

And then I was invited to sober yoga.

That sounds like a meeting I said.

It’s not, he lied.

I resisted, he persuaded. It’s at your favorite yoga place. And it’s free. Like many people facing this decision my finances were a mess.

I told myself I was going ‘for him’.

Of course it was a meeting. Inside a yoga context. At the end I thought well I’m not an alcoholic but I do love these people. And that serenity prayer, it’s all about change! I’d already written The Change Song. And it was like an entire program around that.

Afterwards, walking to dinner, I asked if this was an intervention.

Was it, he asked back.

So, I thought, sure. I can quit drinking. Why not? For him. I mean whatever gets you there right? But it was super casual. Like the easiest decision I’d ever made.

Then a few days/weeks - I can’t remember - but not a month - later. I left LA and went back to my place in Palm Springs for a few days. As soon as I got there I wanted a drink so badly. For all the ‘reasons’. The place. The company. The mindset. And more. I wasn’t thinking about why though. I was just feeling how badly I wanted this drink.

I stood at the kitchen sink. I had a cocktail glass in my hand. It hovered between me and the sliding glass doors - beyond which were… my pool, then The Mountain. Which I was in love with. And which represented Everything. And the big blue desert sky. Infinite possibility. Everything beyond everything. And I saw how this glass - which I so wanted to fill with Campari and vodka and clink and drink - how this glass stood between me and everything else. Everything I wanted. I saw how wanting this drink was keeping me - not just from getting what I wanted - but from wanting - desiring is a better word - what I truly desired.

And I’d really been thinking about this. An award winning writer of musicals had seen and loved 100% Happy 88% of the Time. But advised that we needed The Want Song. Mitch wrote some very beautiful music for it. But I was lost for words. And in someways wanting words for The Want Song is what pushed me.

So I decided again.

This time for myself.

I would quit drinking. For a year. That’s not one day at a time forever. It’s a year. But that’s how I was able to decide. I figured in a year I’d be… what? Fixed? Whole? Cured? Clear? Different? I didn’t have a word.

And during that year, of course, I did discover what one day at a time meant. I even bought a one-day-on-two-pages Filofax, which I refill every year and use along with my monthly and digital calendar.

And during that year I would close my eyes and see myself crossing a river. Sometimes I was sure footed. Sometimes slipping on slimy rocks. Sometimes swimming across the rushing waters. And somehow - one day at a time - with the help of so many people - with the help of a god greater than myself who I was just discovering - at the end of the first year - I closed my eyes and I saw that I had landed on the other bank of the river. I was so glad. But not surprised. What I was surprised at though - this was a completely new landscape. A place I couldn’t even have imagined when I stepped off the bank of the river and into the rushing water a year ago. It was electric. The way a guitar can be.  It was florescent when the first shore had been muted greys and browns. I knew I had no tools for navigating this new landscape and the idea of committing to a year had just been to get me here.

So I decided again. For a third time.

This time just for today. And every today. This time I decided that no matter what. That way I wasn’t going to have to decide over and over again. I wasn’t going to ever have to add this to the list of things that were part of my decision exhaustion. I still didn’t quite understand what had gotten me to the first river bank. And I wanted so badly to understand my story. I knew that was one thing I wanted more than a drink.

I treasure knowing that.

And the other desires I’ve come to understand. The desire to connect. To be of service. To know my heart. The desire for answers and the stronger desire to love the question. The desire to be a self supporting meeting. To be avidly accomplished. To recognize and be recognized. To love and be loved. To touch and be touched. To walk this earth in tender appreciation and joy. To be courageous. To value the unseen. To ask the biggest questions and answer the call. To be willing to change. To nuture a balance of giving and receiving. To be more patient. To be peace. To do the work.

And none of it - for me - is even possible to begin desiring - without having made that first decision. For the second, and then third, time.

For everyone who has helped me I am infinitely grateful. And if you are struggling feel free to reach out..

Infinitely yours,
Xx Beth