Man Plans, God Blesses

I was perusing blogs last night (and yesterday morning, and yesterday afternoon...you say obsessed like it's a bad thing) and I was noting how the tide turns after awhile.  I've only been blogging since early this year but in that short time, I've noticed that blogs come and go.  Whether circumstances change or people run out of things to say or they are just on hiatus...things change.

For example, my blogging friend over at Bye Bye Beer wrote a post about her own experience yesterday.  Check it out - she's so much more eloquent than I.  I would really miss her if she stops blogging but I totally understand.

Every time I think I'm running out of things to talk about, something happens and I need to process it on "paper".  My only struggle has been staying true to the original intent of this blog - which was to discuss my adventures in sobriety and recovery.

And then I realized, WTF - this blog can be about anything I want it to be as long as I have something to say!  So I go on for a couple of weeks talking about lots of different things, sometimes mentioning recovery and how it has impacted the event, while keeping it out of the spotlight.  Because I don't want my life to be defined by my alcoholism.  Alcoholism will always be a part of me - but it's not all that I am. 

So, that's why I try to write about more than just recovery and alcoholism. 

But man plans, God laughs.  Every time I become "comfortable" with my alcoholism, something will trigger a memory or feeling that pulls me right back into that place.  I step back into the darkness and come face to face with my monster once again - and then I start writing about her.

Last night I was sitting around, minding my own business when something (I can't even remember what now) triggered a memory of what it felt like to wake up every morning and try to go to work with a hangover.  (There were about 6 years when that happened pretty much every morning.)  The memory was so clear that I could feel how my mouth felt and there was a dull throbbing somewhere in my head.  I could feel the remorse and the dread and the feeling of not being rested.  I could feel the sweat.  I almost started to cry from sheer relief that those feelings are gone forever.

Man plans, God blesses.  Times like that are such a blessing.  They help me remember and not get too cocky in my recovery.  They help me to keep my sobriety top of mind and know that there is no cure.  They help me brush off cravings like a pesky gnat on a warm summer evening.  They help me.

And so now when I come face to face with my monster, instead of getting angry or scared, I place my hands in prayer position, bow and say, "Namaste".  In other words...we are one.


Namaste

"I honor the place within you where the entire Universe resides; I honor the place within you of love, of light, of truth, of peace; I honor the place within you, where, when you are in that place in you, and I am in that place in me, there is only one of us."

~Namaste as defined by Mahatma Ghandi