Sunday, February 5, 2012

Sober Lady Musings

All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.  - Havelock Ellis

It has been 55 days since I have had a cocktail, glass of wine, or beer.  In 25 years, this has been my longest amount of sobriety.  It has been easy-ish.  Most of the time I do not miss it.  The afterwork rituals now consists of a shower and a cup of tea, instead of a cigarette and a glass of wine.  I admit, I have been somewhat of a hermit, not really spending too much time with anyone but Nascar.  Getting my social identity back has been a bit difficult.   In social situations, I often feel a bit gangly, all legs, arms, and stuttering words.  I miss the ease of social banter that comes with 2 glasses of wine.  Nascar and I did go to dinner with a group of friends last night.  It was interesting to try and practice listening as my form of participation, and to feel the social anxiety come in waves, then float on.

Gangly legs
Things I have heard in conversations as a Sober Lady:

Last night I sat across the dinner table from a fascinating lady.  She is a survivor, a lawyer, a world traveler.  She said the best thing about traveling was getting to see that the United States is just a small spot on the map.  That there are millions of people in the world who live well in very different ways than us, and do not see our way of life as the center of the universe.

Today, my brother called me and asked if I would donate to  He said every time he is buying food for he and his son, he is reminded that there are others who have so much less than even him.  His heart seemed so big right then.

Nascar is feeling the need for a change.  He said thank you to me for being open to change - and he knows how hard that is for me.

My nephew told me he loved me.  Just like that.  With a big hug.  It was awesome.

My friend Julie Spank's laugh.

Out with my friend Silvia last night, and she came up, hugged me tight, and said, I have missed you.


Not sure what to make about the Burning Man ticket situation.  2/3 of the folks that make that festival as special, as life-altering, as AWESOME as it is, did not get tickets.

Here are just a few of the tickets from years that meant the world to me.  Each of these years showed me so much good about myself, and some of those years (2009 especially) showed me some of my faults.  Surrounded by friends and art, it is hard not to come home inspired and ready to dream big again.

Nascar and I got alloted tickets in the lottery.  Many of our Surly family did not.  It is hard to not slip into the think space of the Have's and Have Not's.  It is hard not to be mad at the folks at Burning  for trusting people so much.  Perhaps this is the biggest lesson Burning Man has to offer me yet:  A willingness to believe in an ethos, even when you are not gaining from it.


A fantastic read from the Sun Magazine about another ethos that may not be working anymore:

A must read for anyone who has been hit by this economic recession.  It really shines light on the fault of the system that is outdated and built for a smaller workforce.

Today's blog written in our backyard, watching the chickens, sipping coffee made for me by Nascar, and listening to DJ CoopdaLoop's Easy Like Sunday Morning mix.  Feeling very grateful to be living' the dream.

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About Me

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I am Nurse Bacon, a registered nurse who works hard and and lives a full life with her husband, Nascar Pitcrew. A little surly and a little sensitive, I am very much enamored with life and its nuances.