Perhaps change is clearer with a little distance
04/05/2010

A week since I completed my 27 days of transformative change practice, it’s been interesting to notice my reintegration into “normal” life and compare it with the preceding month.  Perhaps I accomplished more change during that month of practice than I’d given myself credit for.

For starters, my sister commented twice that she thought I’d lost weight.  Indeed, my jeans do feel more comfortable.  Could it be that a month without the empty calories of alcohol will eventually add up to a missing pound or two?

The first two nights I was drinking again I also fought with my husband again.  It’s not that we suddenly found new issues to quarrel over.  Rather, I apparently have fewer skillful means at my disposal, or less propensity to use them, when I’ve had a drink or two. Much as I love alcohol-fueled ebullience, is it worth a lifetime of extra pounds and extra arguments?  That will be a tough call.

The same sister who noticed my (possible) weight loss also noted that I was “more myself” now that I was drinking again.  She’d found me a bit flat during my 27 days of practice—or  abstinence—to the point she’d wondered whether I was unhappy with her about something. 

I, too, enjoy myself more when I get to have a cocktail every evening.  But why is that?  Are there other changes I could make in my life in order to be “more myself” (e.g., happy) while straight?  Am I a borderline depressive without a nightly shot of vodka or tequila?  Is there another “reward” that would mean as much, without the undesirable side effects?  And what about Dr. Tudor’s comment: “There’s no such thing as side effects.  Drugs have effects; some you may not want.”

I did find myself happier to meditate now that my 27 days of practice were up.  Perhaps the freedom of not “having” to meditate three times a day enabled me to reconnect with my desire to meditate at least once a day. 

I’m also happy to cut back on my meat consumption as a general rule, while also happy not to be “wrong,” or in violation of my own agreements, if the day’s menu includes meat at every meal. 

And I am happy to maintain my social activism and weekly peace vigil in downtown Santa Barbara.  In fact, I’d like to be able to do more.  I’d like to be able to have a greater impact.  I’d like to be more adept at being the change I wish to see in the world—which means maintaining my own equanimity even in the face of those whose viewpoints are violently opposed. 

I did encounter two such people at last Friday’s vigil.  I was holding two signs.  One read, “The war in Afghanistan is wrong: morally, financially, strategically.”  The other said, “Be a citizen, not a consumer.  Create the world you believe in: sustainable, peaceful, just.”  One man slowed his big, black Escalade to yell from his window, “Lady, You’re nuts!”  I smiled, thereby confirming his suspicion.  A while later, a 20-something young man drove by in the other direction making a prolonged display of his middle finger, thrust upwards in the air for emphasis.  I nodded.  Neither incident made the day’s highlight reel, but neither derailed my equanimity either.  That might not represent transformative change, but I’ll count them as progress.

And so it is.