The Last Glass

People have requested that I post this again, I wrote this piece published many times over the years..


I started with twenty-four. Twenty-four Waterford wine glasses. It was weeks before my wedding to the man I so arduously loved. Some were gifts from my family. Many were gifts from our friends. The blue boxes with white ribbon poured in like the wine collection I so astutely built. I took each one out of the box, unwrapping their delicate tissue. The chardonnay glasses with their spindled stems- as if ready to be caressed by the sophisticated hand. Waiting for the candlelight to pour through, reflecting romantic evenings. The cabernet glasses with their wide mouths waiting for a supple reward. I could tilt the glass back to meet the succulence in my lips. Finally, my most cherished eight..the Bordeaux glasses. They were the generals in my army. The glasses were heavier in weight yet far more elegant than the rest. I sat waiting for the right vintage to begin my revolution.

I whimpered when I broke the first six. Three months after my nuptials to the man I thought I loved. The expensive vintage collection began to dwindle. In its place came the bottles that I found at a local winery. Not a bottle from Georges Duboeuf, but some fine wine. A large soiree, friends mingling around the fire. Forbidden fruit poured endlessly by the gracious host, who was subsequently in the Garden of Eden herself. Words began to unfold and emotions began to erupt. First went the chardonnays. Thrown with such vigilance. Aimed right at my beloveds head. There went two hundred dollars towards the refrigerator door. Tearfully, I swept up the shards of glass. But, alas there were eighteen more. I still had the reds. In my battle, I had lost a troupe but still had soldiers.

I cried when I broke the next four. In the early light of spring, I reached for a glass. My coordination stifled by my constant imbibing. I poured a bottle of inexpensive cabernet into my tall glass. I no longer took trips to the winery anymore. I had been there far too often; my face was beginning to be recognized by the patrons. I searched for replacements and conjured up my imaginary wineries in Southern France. I could pretend. I could pretend that my wine rack was not empty. I could pretend that I was not alone. I was drinking away the grief that his silence caused. The grace of the Waterford could not still my shaking hands. I dropped them. Four of my best friends dropped in one evening. With such ferocity, I tried to save them. I had my own personal drunken funeral for my glasses. Tossed into the trash compactor.

I sobbed when he took the next eight. Fall had come. He left with the decanter. The wonderful Waterford decanter. With it etchings so meticulously set in the glass. He lovingly wrapped up the reds and left me with six. He continued the romance, the love affair with elegance and sonnets. Only, my glasses were now empty on the shelf. No life seeped into them. No reflection from candles would burn again. Dust began to choke my thirst. And the flames had been extinguished. Candlelight would no longer pour through the same glass. The wine bottles taken to a new place. To begin a new life. Without me.

I panicked when I broke the next five. One more left. I no longer looked at the glasses with a fervent eye. I used them for anything that could numb the pain. Vineyards had stopped producing the fruit of my garden. In its place found the weeds of alcohols existence. I could only bring myself to lift the glass if it contained venom. I had begun to despise the glasses for the life that used to be contained in them. Glamour had ceased to exist. The clanging of glasses was not in toast but in concerted effort to forget celebration. If the glass was not full, I panicked. Pouring into the loneliest, endless black hole. But not even the last of the glasses could sustain the ache. I threw them in angst. Threw them into the floor as if I could demolish my past. As if I could break this state of destruction. Angry rants begot sophisticated conversation. The stems became daggers into my own heart. One final glass remained.

I rejoiced when the last one broke. It stood on the shelf. An icon to my former life. I worshipped the last glass as if it was on a pedestal. Like a far removed screen star. I looked lovingly at the shining reflection every evening. Yet, I hadnt touched it in months. Hadnt caressed its sleek, smooth body. A friend from my old life came. She let it go. It slipped out of her hand. I watched it. I saw its demise. Falling, falling, it shattered into tiny pieces. The stem no longer recognizable. The body marred. Suddenly in one moment, the pieces were gone in the trash. I had scraped them up and thrown them into the past. I looked up. My heart lifted. The war was over. The Waterford was gone. The whites, the reds gone from my life. The wine defeated. Swept up into a pile and discarded into the past. I smiled.


My glass was empty. My life was full.


copyright, kjpartstudio 2012

Gratuity and Hope

Years ago, when I first started doing a lot of my sober work, I would write down five things I was grateful fo every night. This would include moments in the day, people, places, a smell, a sight, it didn't matter, I would keep a notebook next to my bed and take those three minutes to stop and appreciate the things that happened in my day.

A practice that I had long put aside, I have begun to write down both morning AND night about those things that I am grateful for and those things that I am HOPEFUL for within in the day.

It's another small step for me on the long path that I've embarked on. It's as if another ray of light has come out to remind me of what I was truly missing in my life.

And I embrace this with humility and gratitude.

Who I am

I've looked through every magazine and self help book

I've looked through every recovery group and blog

Googled myself a million times; sobriety, sobriety girl, recovery, recovering

And I still haven't found who I am

It will never come to me in a search que, website or fourteen question survey to diagnose my addiction

When I reach into my soul

Brief times

Lately, rare times

 I see a glimpse of who I know I can be

And hold my breathe

Waiting for the day that I release myself from pain

The day has come

I know who I am

And where I belong.

Four Agreements

From the Four Agreements-

Everything we do is based on agreements we have made. In these agreements we tell
ourselves who we are, what everyone else is, how to act, what is possible, and
what is impossible. What we have agreed to believe creates what we experience. When these agreements come from fear, blocks and obstacles develop keeping us from realizing our greatest potential.


Based on ancient Toltec wisdom , the Four Agreements offer a powerful code of conduct that can rapidly transform our lives and our work into a new experience of effectiveness, balance and self supporting behavior.


BE IMPECCABLE WITH YOUR WORD

Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love.

DON'T TAKE ANYTHING PERSONALLY
Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won't be the victim of needless suffering.

DON'T MAKE ASSUMPTIONS
Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want.
Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness, and dram With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.

ALWAYS DO YOUR BEST
Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgement, self-abuse, and regret.
Four Agreements



Letting Go.

"She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.


She let go of the fear. She let go of the judgments. She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head. She let go of the committee of indecision within her. She let go of all the 'right' reasons. Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.

She didn't ask anyone for advice. She didn't read a book on how to let go... She didn't search the scriptures. She just let go. She let go of all of the memories that held her back. She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward. She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.

She didn't promise to let go. She didn't journal about it. She didn't write the projected date in her Day-Timer. She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper. She didn't check the weather report or read her daily horoscope. She just let go.

She didn't analyze whether she should let go. She didn't call her friends to discuss the matter. She didn't do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment. She didn't call the prayer line. She didn't utter one word. She just let go.

No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations. No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing. Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.

There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn't good and it wasn't bad. It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be. A small smile came over her face. A light breeze blew through her. And the sun and the moon shone forevermore."

- Safire Rose

Compass.

Every minute, every day, we choose direction. Whether we wake up and decide to move left or right, there is a specific direction that we take. It is all relative to where we want to go. And trying to figure out how to get there is sometimes an incredibly daunting task, particularly when unaided by our own fear of the unknown.

So many times in my own life, during these times of choice, I sometimes wish that I could whip out a compass and have it magically point me in the direction that would be the most conducive to happiness and well being. When this magical intangible compass has failed to appear (as it should), I have become frustrated with myself for walking in the wrong direction or running like hell right into the middle of total misdirection.

The reality is that we all have an internal compass (not a magical one). One that, if crafted with time and insight into how we want our lives to be lived, will help us move in the direction we choose. It's about learning to navigate choices. And spending the time to understand the consequences and aspirations that the chosen direction holds.

Each time I am faced with a new direction and the decisions weigh on me, I think about what is driving my intention. Where will this direction take me? And ultimately, will I be a better person and happier when I've taken steps to move that way.

And that, my friends, is the shiny direction bearing tool that may not prevent me from making mistakes, but it helps me stop and at least ask where I am going.

Sober Thanksgiving (A repost)

Here's a scenario. It's your first few months sober and Thanksgiving, being your first holiday, suddenly creeps up on you. Panic. Angst. What do you do? Hide from the family? Ignore the holiday completely?

As if holidays aren't tricky enough, being sober during these times, when being merry and celebratory is analogous with having a drink in hand, can be daunting. I know, I've had a few (nine and counting still) myself.
One of the most elemental facets of sobriety is to make sure that you are always taking care of yourself, on every level. If you are not going to spend the holidays alone (I'm hardly ever against the idea!), you should have some contingency plans in place for the trip to grandmas.

The first task I completed in my first year sober during the holidays was to take a sheet of paper with every single e-mail address and phone number of all my support systems (at the time, there were many), quotes I loved, goals I had..etc. I wrote SURVIVING MY HOLIDAY SOBER on the top of it, scribbled incessantly and tucked the paper into my wallet. In all honesty, I never once pulled it out. But, it sure did help knowing that at any time, I could run outside and call someone or read some relevant bit that would ease the anxiety.

Okay, piece of life support paper in tow...doesn't get you through family ordeals or questions. Simple thing to remember: "Sometimes, the less information given, the better". Does Aunt Sally really care about whether you are drinking a bottle of wine with her? It probably bothers you more than she. Do you need to launch into a sober diatribe? Depends, but I would lean no. You are primarily sober for you, no one else. Your sobriety is an added benefit for those around you.

It's your choice as to how much information about your life you want to disclose. I've learned in the last seven years that if one of my family members still chooses to believe I was in a big magazine for helping people (when, in reality, the article was about me being a former party girl), then so be it. Not worth the argument.

Before and after long hours at the table, it may help remember the following thoughts (I've used one or all over the years):

•  Pets are a good reason to excuse yourself early to go home
• Going for a walk with one family member is sometimes easier than answering to twelve and fresh air never hurts
• Any kind of clear soda in a glass with some fruit that you get immediately upon arrival will usually put an end to the "what are you drinking" question
• Be kind to yourself, don't fall into the roles that we're assigned at birth
• Remember that this day falls only once a year
• There is no chance you will get pulled over on the way home
• You will not be hungover on Friday
• Be thankful, really thankful, that you are sober this year
• Families usually fight because it's like looking in a bunch mirrors, everyone is related and similar
• Watch sugar, it's a great way to become testy

 I have my own rituals, I try to do Thanksgiving with friends so that I can relax. Remember, there are more holidays in the next month! I go for a run. I buy my favorite beverage and put it in a wine glass, just for my own sanity. Have a good holiday