My grandiose plan during my drinking days was to become a best-selling author. That was my dream. Of course, I did more drinking than writing, but I always talked a good game. My idol was the lead singer of The Doors, Jim Morrison. Besides being the frontman of one the 60s biggest rock bands, he was also a poet and alcoholic. I patterned my drinking career on his life. His death at 27 (from drinking) didn’t faze me. I was the same misunderstood genius he was. I wanted to be exactly like him.
Trying to keep up with such legendary drunk was hard work. My efforts certainly contributed to my brief by intense drinking career. I was not built to be the type of drunk I aspired to be. My depression was too big of an obstacle to overcome to reach the heights to be a professional alcoholic.
My drinking buddies were concerned when they heard I got sober. Of course, they didn’t think I had a problem. They drank like I drank, and they were fine. They also knew I wanted to be a writer. I would spew long drunken tales full of fascinating characters and complex plot lines. There was no substance to anything I was saying but it sounded good. They pointed out all the greats were alcoholics. They tried their hardest to convince me that by getting sober, I would doom my writing ambitions. I concede my buddies may have had a point. My literary heroes were indeed famous drunks. The likes of Ernest Hemingway, F Scott Fitzgerald, Dylan Thomas, and Dorothy Parker. And I wanted to be just like them. Yet I got sober despite drunken dreams and my drinking friends reservations. Honestly, they could care less about me what didn't like that AA caught another one of their friends.
Fast forward nearly 30 years and my writing endeavors are a long ago memory. I have two half-finished novels collecting dust and about 30 depressing poems. I did manage to get four of those poems published while living in the UK. That was more luck than skill. It was a matter of being at the right place at the right time. One night after a meeting, drinking cappuccinos at a cafe in the Kings Road, someone asked if I wrote poetry. As it turns out the person who asked was someone who was putting together a poetry anthology. I gave him all I had written and he picked four he liked best. My verse is both melancholy and hopeful. But it reads like a depressing greeting card. Still, I can say I was published. (For those masochistic types you can check out the anthology here. I wrote under the pen name MW Piper. )
That was the extent of my writing success. Those dreams are long gone, but life is far from over. It took years to realize every day can be a new beginning. The same with sobriety. Quitting drinking is not the end of our lives, but it is the next chapter. Recovery is a difficult proposition. We are learning to live life from a sober perspective. The effort is worth it. So is the effort to pick up forgotten dreams.
For some getting sober is enough to lead the life they want to live. For others, life remains a wide open field of possibilities. The enormity of it all can be terrifying. Upon my discharge from the Navy, I forget my dreams and started a career. For years I kept trying to fit myself into a mold for traditional success; a good job and a girlfriend would complete me. Living in the right town. Driving the right car. All the material trappings of a good life. But for me it was sham. Trying to keep up with Jones’s brought about more emptiness in my soul.
At the 12 year mark of sobriety, I was more confused about life than I ever was in my past. I was full of a driving need to find direction and self-understanding. I turned to new age spirituality. Crystals and chanting and the like. No matter how hard I tried though, I never found my way. My efforts at finding my spirit guide or contacting angels were unsuccessful. And there was no accurate method of diving the future. Psychics were nothing than an entertaining con.
I was also obsessed with personality tests like the Myers Brigg or the Enneagram. The results were enlightening but my quest for deeper understanding made me worse. It both tests I wind up with rare if not the rarest personality. (On the MBTI I am an INFJ and on the Enneagram, I am a 5 with a 4 wing). Such tests confirmed my feelings that I was an oddball and only fueled my discomfort with the world. I desperately wanted to fit in with the world, not stand out apart from it.
There is one thing from those days that still sticks with me. It’s from the realm of Karmic Astrology of which I know little about. Now I have long since disregarded most of those new age beliefs, but this one idea remains. My karmic astrology chart stated that I was an alcoholic because it was my purpose in this life to find God. And this made perfect sense to me.
I don’t believe for an instant that I am destined for sainthood or to become some great spiritual teacher. I do not feel a calling to any religious tradition. My spirituality is quite private. But I knew I was “different” for a reason. It required serious and courageous soul searching. Which is something I still do today. Learning how to have a relationship with God (as I understand God) has provided me with a great deal of hope in my life going forward. As well as courage to continue the journey of my soul wherever life takes me.
There have been no burning bushes to mark my way. It’s been a gradual process. It’s learning to trust my intuition, my gut and live from the heart. All those years I spent trying to conform to what society told me would bring me happiness, were lies I told myself. There is nothing wrong with traditional success. I am certainly not judging anyone whose life succeeds through traditional means. To be honest I envy these people a little bit. It took me half a lifetime to admit it, but it’s not my calling.
I wish I learned all of this before I accumulated debts and had children. My kid’s needs are placed above my own and the banks would get upset if I stopped paying my bills. Hence there are no glorious plans to run off and find my bliss. So I accept I will be a part of the rat race for a while longer and that is okay. I count my blessings that I have a good job that pays well. I have understanding bosses flexible hours and work with a great group of people. Unfortunately, my work is in support of an industry which conflicts with my values. At times I am disgusted by companies whose actions I find morally reprehensible. Working for the Mob might be more honest. At least with Mafia, you know what you get. As the saying goes life is a one day a time process. And I am learning to take the good with the bad.
Which is part of the reason I started this blog. It adds to my hope. I am under no illusions that this blog will win any prizes or attract a large following. But my best writing is on these pages. Sometimes it’s a struggle to write a paragraph that makes sense, let alone write an entire post. I know writing is elementary and full of structural errors, but I enjoy the process. Publishing this blog keeps me honest. It motivates me to live the life I have always dreamed about. An inspired life, full of creativity, passion, learning, and love. I also hope my words can inspire others.
It’s doubtful that I will ever earn a living writing but I enjoy it. Photography is another enjoyment I have found. It too is something I like. (All pictures in my blog are my own and I have my own photography website). I love the creativity and beauty. But I have not brainwashed myself into believing I am anything but a hobbyist writer and photographer. I don’t believe that fame is my destiny or anything of the sort. My work is pedestrian at best. But I find purpose and meaning in both.
Today I now that all the things I used to do, never solved the question of self. It was only when I dared to investigate me from the inside that I was glimpse who I really was. Learning who I am is an integral part of the journey. I do hope that as time goes by and I grow more into the man I am, that my efforts here will lead to something more significant. Something that provides more meaning to my life and is more beneficial to those closest to me.
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