I Don't Drink Anymore: My Journey with Alcohol
The Fly in the Bottle
As a teenager I wasn’t drawn to alcohol. I wasn’t the type of kid that hosted parties at my house. I was the type of kid that hosted study sessions at my house. I also used to go to church alone. I was always studying and seeking, just not quite sure for what.
Fast forward to freshman year of college. I attended one of America’s greatest party schools, The Florida State University. But I didn’t drink my entire freshman year. This time I did go to house parties, but I was more of an observer than a participant. It was all so new and strange, yet interesting and exciting.
I did eventually drink because peer pressure in a college town is a real thing. I remember that first sip of alcohol. The revolting taste still lingers in my mouth. The mental picture of the dead fly floating inside the bottle will never fade. I didn’t know any better.
It was a shot of ABC grain alcohol. If you don’t know, that is the absolute cheapest, lowest grade alcohol on this planet earth, and that was my initiation. It was disgusting, but boy, was it fun.
College was some of the best four years of my life, due in part to alcohol. The memories of tailgates, sorority socials, and every hallmark holiday are synonymous with beer kegs, red solo cups and margaritas bigger than my face. The little voice that once whispered “don’t drink” faded into the hot mess of Tallahassee.
My Roaring 20s
The drinking calmed down post college, thank God. By this point, alcohol was just a part of my daily life. A glass of wine to relax, a beer to have fun, or a cocktail to feel grown up, I never thought twice before drinking. It was so ingrained into my social life, I didn’t know how to have fun or date without it.
And then I hit my late twenties and the hangovers began. They were awful. I never experienced a hangover in college. I used to work the brunch shift on Sundays and stroll into work like nothing happened that Saturday night before. Who was I?! Those days were long gone. Now, I had to be more mindful when I drank.
But that didn’t stop me.
A Kingfisher
Then I went to India. And by now, we all kinda know how that story goes. I went with the sole purpose of finding God. What does alcohol have to do with that? Apparently, a lot.
I had no intention of giving up alcohol while in India. At the time, I didn’t understand the correlation between sobriety and spirituality. But I got a glimpse, and what felt like more of a persistent suggestion.
Like a lot of spiritual experiences, it’s hard to explain this one with words. Words never do it justice and getting all detailed about it loses somewhat of its intensity. So, I’ll keep it short and sweet.
It was my second week in India. I had spent fourteen dizzying days on a group tour to sort of ease my way into this overwhelming foreign land. On our last night together we went out for drinks. For the first time since arriving, I ordered a beer. A Kingfisher. One regular ol’ Kingfisher Lager. The next day I was venturing out on my own. I was freaking out. I thought the beer would help me relax, like it always does.
Half-way through the beer I got a massive, pounding headache. I could barely sit-up. I wasn’t drunk. I was sick. I had to excuse myself and walk back to my hotel room. My body spent the rest of the night rejecting the beer, vomiting and moaning like I drank a six-pack, but it wasn’t even one beer. It was the absolute worst hangover of my life, and I wasn’t even hungover.
Never in my life had I gotten so sick from a beer.
It was in that toilet hugging moment, that after many, many years the whisper came back. She let me have my twenties in peace. But now, she was back and she wasn’t whispering. She was sternly telling me “Don’t Drink”. I knew, I just knew, I had to give up alcohol while in India.
That Was Easy
It’s India. It’s not a big drinking culture. Besides, I was there to study yoga and meditation. The temptations were far and few between. The plan was no alcohol in India.
But then I came home. And I still didn’t feel like drinking. I don’t know why. Perhaps it was the India high that kept me afloat for a long time, but I just did not crave the stimulants.
It was tempting though. I didn’t know how to be in a social setting and not drink. I didn’t know how to date and not drink. It’s like I didn’t know how to be myself in America and not drink. Hello, identity crisis.
I stuck to my choice though. I lost friends because of my choice. I didn’t casually date because of my choice. I avoided a lot of social situations because of my choice. And I questioned my choice.
“Why can’t I be spiritual AND enjoy a drink?”
“Why does it have to be all or nothing?”
“Beer brings me joy! And isn’t that what life is all about, doing things that bring me joy?”
Oh, how I wish life was that simple.
A Full Moon and Mini Fridge in Cuba
My first trip to Cuba changed a lot for me. There’s just something about visiting family that chose to stay and live a life of material scarcity to get you thinking about some of your own personal life choices. It was in Cuba that I loosened up. At the time, I needed to loosen up. I ate a cake for the first time in nine months, which led me to devour bread and butter and all of the yummy things I had been avoiding. I’m not gonna lie, it felt good.
That opened the door to me opening the mini fridge in my casa particular in Cienfuegos. I hadn’t had a lick of alcohol for two years at this point. I had survived living in Miami for an entire year without alcohol at this point. But I missed alcohol at this point. I was tired of being disciplined, feeling so alone in this decision.
So I grabbed a Cristal from the mini fridge, climbed the rotting spiral staircase to the rooftop terrace, and cheered to the full moon. That first sip after two years was divine. The moon and I had a moment. I got so tipsy and giggly on that rooftop all by my lonesome. I regressed to that college girl taking her first shot. So wrong, yet so right.
Not Fun
I came back from Cuba trying to explain to my family why yes, I would have a glass of wine with dinner, thank you. They were confused, but they poured. I wasn’t drinking like in my twenties, but I was allowing myself to have an occasional drink when I felt it was worth it.
But it was never worth it and it was never the same. I wanted it to be the same. I wanted it so bad to be the same. I wanted to have the fun I used to have at the bars and clubs with my favorite local craft beer in hand. Or just even the simple fun of sharing a bottle of wine with a girlfriend. But all I got was sick.
Drinking started to become anything but fun. I had to plan the inevitable hangover around a night I knew I could sleep in. I had to make sure the alcohol was good quality, which didn’t even matter because I got sick anyway. I had to weigh the options: is the ten minute buzz worth the ten hour headache?
Alcohol was just making me sick. I wasn’t even drinking more than one cup of beer or wine. I eliminated spirits at this point. Still, I would get a massive headache, super dehydrated, and extremely nauseous each and every time. I tried to move past that. Maybe my body just needed to get used to drinking again? And I LOVED beer! I mean, have you had a bia hoi in Hanoi or a classic pilsner in Germany?
Oh, how the ego bargains.
The whisper never quieted though. She was always there. Not shouting this time. Not asserting. Just whispering, “stop drinking”. I heard her every time I took a sip. I heard her every time I got super sick after just ONE drink. But like I do, like we all do, I acknowledged and ignored.
It Took a While
I’m the type of spiritual student that learns the hard way. I receive the lesson, I apply it for some time, then I retract to make sure I made the right choice. Ha. It’s truly my style and I’ve accepted it.
And that’s exactly what happened here with alcohol. I already knew the lesson, “Don’t Drink”. I applied it for two years, and then I retracted just to make sure. Now, three years later, I’m sure.
That’s because the whisper began to assert herself again during the pandemic. I wanted nothing more than just to chill and enjoy a glass of wine, but I physically could not. The headaches I would receive from one glass would knock me out for an entire afternoon. “Stop drinking”, she would say. Even while reaching for the bottle, I would hear her.
It’s not an actual voice. If you’ve ever experienced intuition, it does speak, but it’s not a voice. She came in loudest during meditation; “Don’t Drink”. The nudges were getting stronger to the point I knew I had to make a decision soon. This whole “I drink sometimes when it’s worth it”, was not working for me.
The Final Drink
Last Sunday, I went to my sister’s house. She poured me an aperol spritz. It was a beautiful sunny day in her lush green yard. We sat in the shade, sipped our spritzes, and something in me knew it was my last drink. God is so kind like that. She gave me a beautiful final memory.
Just like that afternoon in India, half-way through the spritzer, I had to go home. But this time, I’m not changing my mind.
Connection
Now, three years later, I know beer doesn't bring me real joy. It brings me temporary happiness (and a headache). After lots of trail and error, I know the difference. I also know it wasn’t alcohol that I was missing that night in Cuba. It was connection I was missing. I missed the dancing, the social gatherings, the coming together for even just a few seconds to share a cheers. I missed connecting and gathering with people.
We think alcohol is going to break down those barriers so that we can “loosen up” and “be ourselves”. But are we really being our most authentic, genuine selves when we’re intoxicated? I can’t speak for you, but I’m sure as hell not.
I am my most genuine self when I’m having deep, soulful conversations over herbal tea or a dragon fruit smoothie. I’m even more of myself sitting in silence meditating in a group. I am myself when I don’t need anything outside of me to help me be myself.
That’s where I need to exert my energy moving forward. In creating soulful connections while doing things that are actually fun and healthy. I need to exert my energy in standing up for my truth.
This time, I won’t shy away and pretend I’m drinking at a group dinner by gripping on to a seltzer water, praying no one shouts “SHOTS!” This time, I will stand in my truth and just say, “I don’t drink.” Why? Because I don’t like the way it makes me feel. I won’t be afraid to be challenged nor will expend energy on explaining my life choices. Unlike the first time, when I was still so unsure of my choice and really, just unsure of myself, when I would lie and say I was allergic to alcohol or grip on to a mocktail to avoid questions or peer pressure, this time I will train people not to ask me to drink with my loving conviction.
I feel like a lot of these life lessons aren’t so much about figuring who you are, but about figuring out who you are and then standing strong in who you are. This whole thing is somewhat about alcohol, but really, it’s about honoring my intuition and not questioning Her. It’s about being able to go to a group dinner, or a wedding, or any social gathering, and be my most genuine self and still connect with others.
I have to reprogram the way I think, the way society taught me how to connect with people. I have to teach myself, as an adult, how to connect with people without alcohol. It’s not that easy you guys.
But most importantly, I have to believe that I am worthy of those connections, in those settings, just as my bare self. I have to know who I am, who I am presenting without stimulants. Those are, afterall, the kind of friendships I not only want, but need at this point of my life. If I cannot bond with you sans alcohol, let’s not waste each other’s time. I’m not finding my people at the bar. Sorry, but not sorry.
I’m finding my people at the ashram. At the vegan cafe that’s attached to the yoga studio. At the soul sister retreat. Together, we’ll gather over vegetarian food and healing drinks that lift us higher. We will all come together and connect just as we are. In our truth.
Pioneer, Onward
Sometimes, on the spiritual path, you have to be a pioneer. I know, it sucks. It’s lonely AF being in the front, lifting and pushing boulders out of the way, cutting down human-sized vegetation with your machete of love, paving a path for others.
It. Sucks.
No doubt. But for some of us, whether we like it or not, it’s the path. We make these difficult choices, like not to drink, not to eat meat, not to have conventional “fun”, so that those we encounter have a path that’s been cleared out for them.
Know that your life choices are not meaningless. Every single time you say no thank you to that glass of alcohol, someone is paying attention. You are planting seeds. You are creating a ripple effect each and every day.
You are not alone. You, my friend, are in the front.
The Meaning of Alcohol
The word “Alcohol” comes from the Arabic word “al-kuhl”, meaning “Body Eating Spirit”. It gives root origins to the English term for “ghoul”, which in Middle Eastern folklore, is an evil demon thought to eat human bodies.
Alcohol extracts. That’s what it does. If you mix herbs with alcohol, you will have herbal extract (like you do with most herbal tinctures). It is said that this is what happens when we mix alcohol with the body. It “extracts” the soul from the body. This is why we do things while we’re intoxicated that we would never do when we’re sober. Almost like it’s not us doing it. Maybe, because it’s not.
In Yogananda’s “Man’s Eternal Quest”, he explains how when we are intoxicated, the soul leaves the body because it’s polluted, and a lower frequency soul enters, causing our bodies to perform low-level sexual activities, commit violence and other destructive behaviors. Not to mention drunk driving. We put not only our lives at risk when we drink and drive, but the lives of others.
Plus, alcohol is poisonous. Our body’s literally reject it. It is toxic. Period.
Don’t Listen to Me
I know some of you may be rolling your eyes, refusing to believe any of what I just said. Maybe some of you are really resonating with this post. I’ve had both schools of thought, many times.
All great spiritual teachers and masters advice against drinking alcohol. Coincidence? I think not. There’s something to it. As you elevate spiritually, your body will naturally reject alcohol. Like with meat and causal sex, it’s nothing you have to force. It will happen on its own. You’ll start to crave it less. You’ll get sick more often. You won’t have fun anymore.
Alcohol isn’t bad. It’s a tool to help us awaken. God will not judge you if you drink. These are not decisions to make out of guilt or shame, because more impactful than the actual decision is the intention behind it.
But don’t listen to me. Don’t listen to Yogananda. Don’t listen to anyone. Listen to that little voice inside of you. The one that whispers and will eventually yell, guaranteed.
Listen to yourSelf. Always, always listen to yourSelf.
