And So the Journey Continues

 "No tree, it is said, can grow to heaven unless its roots reach down to hell." 
- Carl Jung 

     

This quote brings to mind the time my husband and I bought a baby mesquite tree to plant in our backyard.  The mesquite tree is this wild, majestic desert tree with limbs that don't follow the natural laws of gravity.  They grow up and down and twist into a beautiful, gnarly, puzzle of dark, coarse bark, often times reaching the ground only to be reminded that it's time to start growing up again.  Mesquites are a beautiful and elegant addition to any desert landscape, often attracting a number of bird species, including love birds.  The problem with mesquites is that they're root system is shit.  If not watered properly (there's a science to it), they will fall over in the first monsoon storm.  Ours fell over several times each season until we finally gave up and had a wonderful winter burning mesquite wood in our outdoor fire pit.  (Have you ever smelled a mesquite fire?  Nothing less than divine.)

What does this all have to do with my alcohol journey?  Gratitude.  It has to do with gratitude.  It may sound strange since the last time I wrote I was in a dark place filled with a deep sadness, a crippling anxiety, and a desire to be done with alcohol altogether.  I was, as Carl Jung states, reaching down to hell.  But unlike a mesquite tree, my roots have gone another inch deeper and gained another ounce of strength.  I have become stronger.  My branches are reaching higher to the heavens, or in the case of my desert landscape, reaching higher towards the sunshine and the endless blue skies.  

I'm going to get a bit hippie here.  You've been warned.  I truly believe that the parallels between our human species and the natural world are undeniable.  Think about it.  A woman's cycle is 30 days, like the moon cycle.  Our health depends on sunshine, nutrition, water, and air (hello, plant life.)  Our sleep cycle works on a complicated system (or maybe simple but complicated to me because I've listened to one too many Huberman Lab podcasts) aligned with the rising and setting of the sun.  Earth is made up of 71% water while the human brain and heart are made up of 73% water.  No coincidence there.  So why can't our personal growth be parallel to the growth of a tree?  We need trees to breathe while trees need us to survive.  I could go on about the importance of saving our trees, but I'll spare you.  The stronger our root system, aka, the more times we've reached down to hell, the stronger we become against life's storms.  Enter alcohol.  When we wake up to the fact that we are struggling, we are immediately entering into a personal growth journey.  Regardless if we're actually changing our drinking habits, we have ignited a desire to grow.  Sometimes we need to tend to the roots in hell before we can be witness to the growth happening in the branches.  Because, well, we're underground.  Duh.  Okay, enough of the hippie shit.  You're welcome, by the way, for the mini science lesson.

No, I haven't quit yet, but I feel a stirring in my core which I'm embracing and holding onto with my heart.  This, in turn is making me crave less alcohol because I don't want to silence the stirring.  I have successfully cut my drinking by 75% in the last few days because it just doesn't feel good.  And dehydrating my roots is just going to make this tree of life topple over in the next little storm.  I have been busy tending to the root system by listening to podcasts, writing, reading my quit lit, engaging in online groups, and nurturing myself.  Too many analogies?  Sorry, it feels good to make these connections to nature.  They ground me and make my life real.  

I'm off for some yoga in my backyard under the sun, wide-open blue sky, and far away from my neighbor's mesquite.  You never know when that shit is going to topple over.