Change

It is an age old question, posed on the last beautiful episode of Ted Lasso, and timelessly pondered over in the hearts of wives and addicts and dreamers: can people change?

The simple answer is yes. People can change. They can change behaviors, thought patterns, even major belief systems. What’s tricky is when we want to see change, when we expect it to look like a makeover on a morning show, our fast-food-culture conditioning us to expect this complex and gradual inner work to present in a way that is both rapid and obvious.

There is nothing quick about true and lasting change. Change often starts off as a seedling idea - unconsciously planted in your thoughts, growing though small nurturing actions.

I wanted to stop drinking because at 50 I had come to the conclusion that alcohol was hurting my body and my mind. Beyond that, I knew that I wanted to be a better person and live a more fulfilling life. I recognized that alcohol was getting in the way of that deeper purpose. It could be said that this was the first change taking place in me - that burgeoning knowledge that what I had been doing all these years had stopped working. I recall a road trip I took four years ago, my driving mind wandering, composing a poem of images: “Rivers of wine cascading over the falls, golden lips open to receive… lounging on a raft in a pool of scotchy amber liquid…beer oceans, lapping surfy upon my toes in the sand… glass by glass I poured this LiquorWorld into existence…has my cup not runneth over yet?”

You get the idea. I was saturated and I knew it. My brain was changing the way I thought of alcohol. Instead of sounding appealing, it was sounding gross. Instead of sounding like the elixir of life, it was sounding like the depths that would eventually drown me. The change was starting; the seed had begun to grow. Sobriety was coming.

Four years later, I drank my last glass of chardonnay. One might say this was an important moment, the BIG change, but honestly it was just one action I was taking to make my original dream a reality. The act of quitting drinking was simply me finally laying down the burden, accepting the reality that I was done with alcohol. I had survived the LiquorWorld of my own creation and it was time to test my feet on dry ground.

Change had been happening, is happening, and will continue to happen.

The first couple months of sobriety were focused on redirecting the habit of reaching for a five o’clock glass of chardonnay. The next couple of months challenged me on how to connect with other people in a new way, how to go out in the world with a sparkling water instead of a mixed drink. The next step was leaning how to breath through emotions and take the time to analyze why I ever thought a drink would make my situation better, even asking myself why I ever did it in the first place. Now, on the cusp of one year, I am trying to build new healthy habits for my mind and body, habits that propel me forward as a fully realized human, habits that nurture my growing seedling and keep its leaves pointed toward the light.

I hope to be a giant wise oak one day, wrinkled, full of moss and shade. I have a better shot now that I am not plying myself with poison on the daily. Under my roots is still soggy ground, the remnant of my LiquorWorld, buried memories and choices, experiences full of change and growth in and of themselves.

If you are struggling with the idea of change, try to keep in mind that you have been changing and growing your body and your mind every day. Change happens reading something new, something as infinitesimal as a quote. Change can happen going out the front door for a walk, talking to a neighbor or stopping to take in some new bit of nature of city life (depending where you live). Change happens when you call a friend, someone who knows your name and can assure you that they are busy changing too. Every action is nurturing your seedling, and one day the change will be obvious - the before and after picture will be clear. Overnight? No. Overlife? Yes.