Honey

When I drank regularly, my cocktail of choice was an ice cold Jack and Coke. I savored the burning sensation in my mouth and throat when I took my first swallow. I looked forward to the moment I reached sweet, numb bliss. I rarely drank too much, and only one occasion comes to mind on which I made obviously bad decisions as a result of my inebriation.

I was on a short business trip a few years ago. After I had attended all required meetings, I headed into the city to seek out an adventure. I started drinking in the park, before the sun went down - miniature bottles of Jack Daniels poured inconspicuously into a plastic bottle of Coke. Eventually, I headed to the bar.

The bar is a blur of lesbian drama, karaoke, a lot more drinking, and general drunken, jovial activity. Before the bar closed, when I realized that I was past the tipping point, I made a barely conscious decision to get back to my hotel.

I was in the subway at 2:30 in the morning, blasted out of my mind. I was unable to focus on anything long enough to figure out what line to catch or which direction to proceed. By some miracle, I was not alone. A young man, himself down on his luck, helped me board the train I needed and identified my stop.

In retrospect, and even at the time, I realized how unbelievably lucky I was that a perfect stranger in a cold, cruel city, in the middle of the night, was willing to help me. I felt like such an idiot, to have put myself in such a dangerous situation. I never wanted to do that again.

There was never anything very fun about drinking in public for me. I was so intent on appearing sober that I never reaped the benefits of suppressed inhibition. If anything, drinking around other people made me irritable, jealous, and generally cranky. I was not a lot of fun to be around.

It wasn’t long after my lucky trip before I decided to quit drinking. I realized that it just wasn’t doing anything for me and I was tired of hating everything and everyone the morning after an all too frequent bender.

I quit cold turkey, stayed away from bars, and tried not to feel resentful of my buddies drinking in the park. I was real jealous, though, and wanted so badly to do what all my friends were doing. I wished that I could find friends who didn’t drink, so I could have someone to talk with about how much I was struggling, but no one came along. And so I weathered the storm with my patient, compassionate girlfriend at my side.

There was a bump in the road this last winter in Portland, which only served to strengthen my resolve against the temptation to escape again into the bottle. Although Portland’s culture is drenched in beer and the bar scene, I’ve met so many people who don’t revolve their lives around drinking that I’m beginning to feel like a normal person again.

I don’t think it will ever be easy. I will always miss the expectation of disorientation, the comradery of sharing a drink together, the hardcore trouble-making of being wasted in the afternoon. I will never escape the images of what I thought drinking was supposed to do for me and how it let me down. I will always be in a state of resistance, day in and day out, for the rest of my life.

A recent Radio Lab episode helped to sustain my ongoing wonderings about truth and deception. One of the segments suggested that people who lie to themselves are less depressed and more successful. Do you lie to yourself? Take the self deception survey and find out.

Unfortunately for me, I’ve dedicated my life to unraveling the hidden and evasive truth within my mind. Every breakthrough is cause for celebration, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

For example, just the other day I realized that I have plenty of everything. This is a particularly difficult fact to get through to my little brain, especially when it comes to money. I have gone most of my life believing that no matter what, I need more money, and this just isn’t true. I’m still working on convincing myself, as the desire for more is second nature to me.

In order to continue this personal quest for truth, I’ve decided to perform an experiment on myself. Just like the guy interviewed on Radio Lab who studies peoples’ faces (Paul Ekman), I’m going to stop lying. For a week. Just to see what happens.

I like how they defined a lie on Radio Lab: to mislead someone without warning. Sarcasm is fine, then, since it’s not really misleading someone. I’ve already made agreements with Agent and our roommate that I will continue to lie to them as normal. (Not that I lie all the time, but who knows.) The whole point of this experiment is to become aware of the times when I lie that I don’t even realize it. And to discover how difficult it is for me to tell the truth all the time.

I figure if things get really hairy, I’ll just tell people I don’t want to talk about it. That’s likely to be more true than anything else I can say.

There are times in my life when I want to move into a little house across the street from my office and dedicate my entire existence to my job. I imagine pouring every ounce of energy and every last second of my time into this singular purpose. Life would be so simple and satisfying, if only I didn’t care about anything else.

Sometimes I dream about dedicating my life to a spiritual path. I picture myself in Buddhist robes and a shaved head, finding absolute joy in sitting still for hours and providing selfless service to my community and to the world.

My own personal classic fantasy is to live in an airstream trailer, with few possessions and fewer desires, traveling the country meeting all kinds of people. I’d just hang out and chill, without the ongoing pressure of bills and responsibility and all those other things that make life complicated.

These ideas always fall apart, however, when I consider the reasons that I experience so much happiness in my life. I would be lost without the love and fun I have with my family. I’d be miserable without an office to occupy each day. I’d be bored without weekly adventures in Portland. I’d certainly be confused as anything else except exactly who I am.

As terrific as it would seem to be to live a life with only one goal, one purpose, and one meaning, I live with (and enjoy) far more complexity in my daily experience. I wholeheartedly appreciate the neverending challenges presented by a multi-layered life. Finding balance in the things that occupy my passion and my energy is a difficult but rewarding exercise that keeps me constantly looking inward at my own priorities and identity. I can surely lose myself in any aspect of life and neglect another part of myself. When I tilt, I can feel it in me, all over the place.

The tab on my tea this morning said something I remember as “Dazzle the world with your grace, compassion, and kindness.” I’m sure it didn’t use the word “dazzle”, but since this is one of my favorite words, I insert it into my memory as often as possible.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the idea of grace ever since. I find grace to be a very complex concept, all tied up in behavior, attitude, enlightenment, and well-being. I haven’t bothered to look up the definition, cause I don’t want to spoil it for myself.

Mainly I’m wondering how I could live more gracefully, let alone dazzle the world with my graceful behavior. How do I represent a state of grace appropriately?

Grace is a beautiful idea. I imagine myself walking a few inches off the ground, any movement subtle and ultimately smooth. I have a sweet half smile permanently attached to my face, a settled-in look of quiet awareness. Nothing I do or say is awkward or strange. I picture myself with perfect athletic ability. Nothing I do hurts anyone in any direct or indirect way. I am confident and strong, but not overbearing, aggressive, or righteous. I handle conflict with respect and compassion.

Okay, now I’ll ruin it, cause I always have to know what the web thinks about things.

I guess I was right about the complexity. There are 20 definitions for the word on dictionary.com. My favorite definitions are:

• elegance or beauty of form, manner, motion, or action
• a virtue or excellence of divine origin
• favor or good will

Here are the lyrics to the title of this post:

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found, Was blind, but now I see.

T’was Grace that taught my heart to fear. And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear, The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come;
‘Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far, and Grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promised good to me. His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be, As long as life endures.

Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail, And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil, A life of joy and peace.

When we’ve been here ten thousand years, Bright shining as the sun.
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise Than when we’ve first begun.

Lately I’ve been spending a little too much time and energy longing for things, people, and places that aren’t currently part of my life. I’ve been acting cranky and spoiled. Neither me nor anyone I know appreciates my recent behavior. Perhaps this is an appropriate opportunity to remember the things for which I am most grateful.

• I am especially grateful for Agent and Farmer and Miso. I love my family more than anything.
• I am so glad to have an easy, pleasant life with minimal stress and many joyful moments.
• Spring is here! I am so grateful for the flowers and the sun and a window where I work.
• I am so happy that I have yoga twice a week.
• I’m grateful for an interesting, challenging job with great people.
• I’m glad to have this blog as an outlet for my thoughts and creativity.