All the Good & Beautiful Things That Have Happened Since Getting Sober
In lieu of blaming and complaining, I come bearing love and my joy list.
Dearest Reader,
I write about what’s dark and difficult in order to sort through and transform it. By going straight in—by bringing what’s dark into the light—I discover moments of clarity. Each, a Morning Star. Each, a change set in motion.
Such changes require doing things differently but come alive through the seeing and naming.
With clear seeing, I surrender to what’s known and unknown. With courageous naming, I reclaim responsibility for my part in the matter. From there, I step into capacity. From there, I declare sovereignty over my choices.
Anyway, writing helps with this. And writing about what’s dark and difficult helps most of all. It’s wild really: The process changes the darkness and changes me. The process softens shame and leads from fear to faith and from faith to forgiveness.
Or, in the wise words of others:
“For me, nothing, not one single thing has been more transformative, healing, and empowering than creating a written narrative, one with moments of beauty and transcendence, from my difficult past.”
—Jeannine Ouellette, Dear As Long As I Live
“It’s all very well and good for me to talk about beauty and serenity, but without the opposition—the darkness, the loss, the confusion, the chaos—grace and goodness can’t find traction.”
—Susie Middleton, Truth and Beauty, With Apologies to Ann Patchett
I’ve been practicing Buddhism and yoga for over two decades now. Every morning begins with a moving meditation; every evening ends with a seated one. And yet. Much of those decades were spent getting around to it. Most of what came before was getting around to the last four years.
Only then—only after quitting alcohol, specifically—did I have the capacity to show up how I do now. Only then could I do this kind of writing and by this kind of writing I mean the kind where I often question whether I’m the one writing at all. I mean the kind that writes with me and through me—infused with Love, bearing gifts of clear seeing.
I know, I know. Universal Love has been overused into emptiness. Universal Love won’t bring the heady rush of rage on the page or gossipy snark or performative activism.
But I want you to know that I write from there—from the Love place. Not always—sometimes I succumb to snark and rage too. But more and more of the time, and pretty much all of the time that I bring my truest self forwards.
Love holds everything, you know. Love doesn’t cower from what’s painful and fraught. Love doesn’t flinch at our shame or our shadows.
And, I sometimes fear that, as a reader, you’re receiving too much of my dark, not enough of my light. I worry that, by writing in the way that most changes and heals me, I’m failing to highlight enough of the good parts. I’m keeping you (and me) from the most complete picture.
So much of my life—so much of every day—is spent in joyous creation and inner contentment. Also gratitude and wonder and reverence.
I’m not sure how much of that gets onto the page!
So, to dovetail my recent love letter to those quitting a thing and my recent essay on joy on drugs vs. joy in sobriety, I thought I’d share a shortlist of things that bring me deep, heart-sourced serenity since getting sober.
By “shortlist” I mean this is really the short of it! There is so much more. Love holds so much more. Still, if you’re newly sober or considering getting sober or just want a sense of what Love looks like for me now, in daily life in sobriety…well, here you go.
Sources of everyday joy and serenity since getting sober
Since getting sober in early 2020, I’ve experienced the following—most of which felt impossibly out of reach a mere four years back.
Knowing that I’m not arranging any part of my life around a profoundly addictive toxin we pour down our throats has brought tremendous relief physically, mentally, and spiritually. My body and mind feel lighter, clearer, more spacious.
Since getting sober, I’ve experienced deeper, sounder sleep than I have for perhaps my whole life. This impacts everything—body, mind, spirit.1
Since getting sober, I’ve experienced significant (as in, life-changing) reduction in depression and anxiety. The anxiety’s still there, but way less. The depression is…kind of gone? Sure, I still have days and weeks that are dark and low. But I no longer get stuck in the place where the walls close in, there’s no light or air, and I can’t crawl my way out.
Quitting alcohol entirely—without reservation or moderation—is above and beyond the most impactful thing I’ve done to boost my confidence and lessen my shame.2 This supports the three bullets above—including in ways that can’t be captured in double-blind studies. It also includes confidence in my core values, as well as confidence in my own resilience and capacity to stand in life—to really be here without numbing out.
I experience heightened sensitivity and presence in yoga, meditation, and everyday mindfulness. Because I’ve been practicing at least twice daily for more than two decades, I thought I was already attuned to these realms. Maybe. But quitting booze unlocked whole other levels.
I experience a deeper, more embodied connection to Nature, Source, intuition, and spirit.
Every single relationship in my life has undergone healing transformation—most prominently, my relationships with certain family members and with my partner (we remarried after I got sober and relate to each other wholly differently compared to before). A key feature in these shifts is my massively magnified capacity to: 1) see, name, and take accountability for my patterns and how I’m the common denominator across my life—regardless of what others “did to me,” and 2) forgive others and see their humanness even when our history holds hurt.
None of the above happened immediately (except maybe the better sleep, less depression). None of the above will ever be finished. Each month and year sober offers a deepening. Each month and year sober brings gifts I never dared hope for before.
Ones that bring joy. Ones that fill me with Love. Ones that offer more life—instead of extinguish it.
None of this makes for a “wild time.” None of this makes for the obscene extreme sort of joy that I once was chasing.
But everything above is far more precious to me than drinking and drugging. Everything above emerges from and returns to the deep well of what matters. Call it Universal Love. Call it God or Source or whatever you wish.
I call it being here fully. I call it being kind and awake and sober.
Now you.
I’d love for you to share in the comments:
If you’re sober from alcohol or anything else, what big or small joys does that bring you?
If you’re sober from alcohol or anything else, what welcome, unexpected changes emerged on the journey?
Those are suggestions—feel free to freestyle. And if you’d rather not share, no pressure.
Either way, please tap the little ♡ if you’d like to bring more joy to my day while offering the gift of “social proof” (sigh). It’s a small thing, but one that lets others know there’s something useful here. The more folks subscribe (and especially the more folks become paying subscribers), the more time I can devote to this newsletter—which I consider my most healing, most joyous work.
Thank you. I appreciate you. I love you.
Dana
There’s cold, hard science behind many of these bullets. According to highlights from a podcast episode by Dr. Andrew Huberman, a neuroscientist and tenured professor at the Stanford School of Medicine:
“Chronic alcohol intake, even at low to moderate levels (1-2 drinks per day or 7-14 per week), can disrupt the brain.”
“People who drink consistently (even in small amounts, i.e., 1 per night) experience increases in cortisol release from adrenal glands when not drinking so feel more stress and more anxiety when not drinking.”
“The risk of breast cancer increases among women who drink—for every 10 grams of alcohol consumed per day, there’s a 4-13% increase in the risk of cancer (alcohol increases tumor growth & suppresses molecules that inhibit tumor growth).”
“Being drunk is a poison-induced disruption in neural circuitry caused by acetyl aldehyde as the alcohol is being metabolized.”
“Alcohol induces a disruption in the gut microbiome by indiscriminately killing bacteria and healthy gut microbiota, which may ultimately cause leaky gut.”
“Sleep after even one drink is not the same quality as without alcohol—when alcohol is present in the bloodstream, the architecture of sleep is disrupted.”
“Accelerated or abnormal conversion of testosterone to estrogen [due to alcohol consumption] can lead to gynecomastia [enlarged, non-cancerous breasts in males], diminished sex drive, increased fat storage.”
From a purely physiological standpoint: “The best amount of alcohol to drink is no alcohol.”
And that’s barely scratching the surface! Learn way more in the full episode. Even then, we’re still just talking physiology and biomechanics. We haven’t even touched on alcohol’s wider impact on spirit, spiritual practice, and every single relationship in our lives (including the one with ourself).
*The above footnote comes from my recent Love Letter to the Newly Sober. I’m re-sharing it here for free subscribers who missed that and for anyone who, like me, benefits from knowing a bit of the science. Another excellent, mind-blowing yet accessible source for this is Annie Grace’s This Naked Mind: Control Alcohol, Find Freedom, Discover Happiness & Change Your Life (affiliate link for Bookshop.org, where I curate quit lit and other lists and may earn a small commission if you use my link to make a purchase).
Another footnote I’m lifting from my recent Love Letter to the Newly Sober: I don’t believe in “everything in moderation.” Many things are profoundly harmful—in any amount. Plus, does “everything in moderation” ever work? As in, does it ever help people feel their best or achieve what they say they want to achieve? What’s more: I’m not sure I’ve ever seen someone champion that phrase (including in my clinical practice) who doesn’t, well, “have a problem.”
I do believe in harm reduction: a tad of a harmful thing is better than a ton of a harmful thing. I also believe that different people need vastly different approaches to quitting substances and behaviours—what works for me may not work for you. You know best what you need. Please take what’s helpful, make it your own, leave the rest.
Yes. I wrote a novel and it was published. I fell in love and had a baby and eventually divorced but with gentle kindness. I was able to love my parents without all the rage, I became fearless and now quite old! At 66 I've been sober for 39 years and counting. I grew up, grew strong, grieved and celebrated and wrote (two more novels, tons of essays), taught 1000s of teenagers, watched my son get married and live in gratitude for every moment in this troubled, violent, sad but gorgeous world.
I love this so much. I agree in every way. Sometimes my joy is crawling into bed with a washed face and knowing that any regrets I have about the day are due to choice not by accident.