Sobriety: Land of the Free, Life of the Brave

We spent my birthday, also the Fourth of July, at the beach. I grew up near the beach but now live about 2.5 hours away, so there are times I only visit the ocean once a year or so. Each time, I am transported to my happy place; a full sensory experience. The waves are the constant reassuring background music. I can smell and taste the moist, salty air. The shoreline is a feast for the eyes, with a continual bounty of treasures to observe. My feet feel the varied textures of grit, and cold gloppy wetness. It is therapy for me. A mix of memories and presence combined with the promise of new days and experiences. The beach is like sobriety to me: the land of the free.

As I walked along the shore on the Fourth of July, I began to think about freedom and independence. I’ve always loved celebrating my birthday with our nation, but since I quit drinking, freedom has a whole new meaning. The journey into addiction is traveled by most people at some point in their lives, with some substance or idea or behavior. It is our tendency as humans to wade, or drift, or dive headlong into unhealthy waters. Rare is the person free from any vices. If we wrestle free from an addiction, we feel freedom wash over us. It cleanses us from the toxic, stagnant waters of desperation and dependency.

Freedom from bondage is empowering. It colors us in gratitude. Lets us taste our personal victory. It is always possible for us to fall back and get stuck again; to return to the grip of the enemy dressed as a savior. But to truly declare freedom, we must not be fooled. We must not give into weakness, or faulty thinking. We must continue on the path of wellness. The one that may feel lonely at times, but ultimately warm, and rewarding, and worthy. Declaring our freedom over addiction is at times a challenge, but we must ask ourselves what’s the alternative?

The alternative, once we’ve become ensnared and miserable, is always more pain and misery. The momentum, once we’ve begun to slide and descend, never eases but increases. It gets harder and harder to stop…until it’s impossible.

I declared my freedom over the bondage of alcohol before I reached the point of no return, and for that I am extremely grateful. By freeing myself, I changed the shape and the contents of my future. Rather than spending my days obsessing, poisoning, regretting and loathing, I now have a different life.

I see things, like the vast powerful ocean or the delicate intricacies of a butterfly’s wings. I see the flecks of gold in my daughters blue eyes or the shadow of stubble on my son’s still boyish face. I hear things like the reassurance of the surf, or the cooing of a mourning dove. I hear my daughter’s cry at night from a bad dream or my husband grinding coffee beans in the early morning. I smell things, like the salty mist at the seashore, or lavender and rosemary as it takes in the shower from my garden hose and releases its fragrance for free. I smell our freshly baked peanut-butter chocolate chip cookies, or my older son’s heavy layer of cologne as he leaves for another evening out.

I taste things, now that my palate is no longer dimmed by drink. I taste fresh fruit bursting in my mouth during our picnic at the beach. I taste the contents of a celebratory dinner, accompanied by the crispness of sparkling water with lime. On Sundays, I taste communion and take in the presence of the One who saved me from myself. I taste sweet freedom.

And finally, I feel. I feel all the things that used to be numbed out or overlooked or ignored. I feel sand beneath my feet trillions of tiny grains leaving an impermanent impression of a traveler on her way. I feel the love in words that make up intimate phrases or silly stories or worried confessions. I feel the soft fur that covers the warm squishy bellies of my dogs, who want to be near me because they trust who I am. I feel frustration, and overwhelm, and peace and joy. I feel everything that makes up a life on this planet, without hiding, or denying or numbing, or forgetting.

These are the experiences and impressions that make up a life of freedom. Not a life free from challenge or hardship, or even dullness from time to time. But a life free from the one thing that tied me up and held me down. Living life on this level invites me to move forward, day by day, without looking back. It takes courage and consistency, but it gives me everything in return.