Thickening this web
Photograph ©2022 David Bivins
I found out another friend is sober and has been for about as long as I have. He’s someone I’ve only kept in touch with on the periphery, without any in-depth discussion of how and what we’re doing. I was delighted to learn it, to have another in our “gang.” We finally got to talk a little bit (not enough), and I was even more delighted to find that he’s really happy being sober and expanding his life. This web of friends, of acquaintances, even of people I see across a room, drinking a seltzer when everyone else has a beer, it’s growing and firming up. I love it.
The web is still porous - there are plenty of friends who still drink, and that’s none of my business. But I’m constantly amazed at how my own non-drinking affects others. Someone who decides to join me with a seltzer instead of a beer when they see me snap open a LaCroix. Several sets of friends who offered non-alcoholic drinks or mocktails at a get-together realized that they like them, too, and have decided to make an effort to not drink as often, but still have “fun” drinks.
What’s even more amazing about this is that I am just being myself, not drinking. I’m not preaching. I can only think of a couple people who asked me why I quit drinking. I don’t drink, and some other people choose to not drink, or to not drink as much. In Tempest, there was a mantra: “I am a lighthouse.” I thought I understood it then, but now I really get it. The lighthouse doesn’t say anything. There’s no loudspeaker on it. It just stands there with its light, indicating its presence.
When I was getting sober, I often heard about people who are still drinking turning the mirror on themselves when faced with a friend who isn’t drinking. They make excuses, maybe say things like “well, I only drink on weekends.” To instead make a decision to drink less oneself is a powerful action. It strikes me as the action of someone who is willing to look into that mirror and see beyond self-judgment into different possibilities.
I’m taken aback by it, to be honest. I’m not comfortable with someone telling me that I had an effect on their life, whether positive or negative. I’m not sure why, but I would guess it has something to do with my upbringing, of being careful not to puff out my chest or stand taller than others. Not that anyone told me to act like that, but somehow I understood that instruction as the proper way to be. There is a bright side to that personality trait: as a sobriety coach, I was trained to not think I’m better than anyone on account of my sobriety. I can only offer my hand and ear. I can’t walk ahead. I’m not to lead anyone. It’s a comfortable role.
I think of a person who will speak quietly amongst a group of loud people. The room quiets down to hear her. The listeners become more receptive. Pulses slow down. She doesn’t yell out “Quiet! Listen to me!” She just is quiet.
You are a lighthouse. Even if you’re not yet sober, if you’re putting in the work, you are a lighthouse. It’s beautiful work, even when it hurts. And I know it hurts so much.
I love you,
David
