I Drink Therefore I Am?: Grappling With Alcohol and Mindful Living

Alcohol. That most delicious, horrid, elixir, poison, potion of passion, liquid of love, brew of bliss and drink of depression. How to relate to this curious drug? It depends who you ask – I know some people extremely averse to drinking while others would say you’d be crazy not to, though I’m fairly sure the majority would be comprised of the latter.

I’ve been thinking about drinking a lot of late. In fact for years I’ve been torn by my conflicting feelings towards alcohol, and the nagging feeling that I could make so much more of myself if I stopped drinking grows stronger by the week.

I won’t lie, I’ve drunk much more than I should have for many years. I’ve loved being drunk and have been completely smashed so many times I couldn’t even guess how many hundreds it is. Being drunk has bestowed upon me great times, new friends, one night stands, relationships, the feeling of being alive and a mountain of magical moments. If only I could remember the names, and what they all were…

It has temporarily freed me from my usual shy and reserved, introverted and self-doubting tendencies, and enabled me to live a great social life which belies the inhibiting thought patterns I spend most of my time dealing with.

But it’s not that simple. Alcohol is unpredictable. When I drink I do not know who I will be that night. Will I be the charming, witty, sociable person I quite like, or the self loathing, lonely, depressed individual I despise, trapped inside the prison of my mind? And then there’s the next day… Doubtless I don’t need to describe this.

Of course you might rightly point out that I’m talking about extremes here, that I should just drink less, or stop after a couple and go home. But again it’s not that simple. The thing with alcohol is that after a drink or two, self autonomous choice seems to vanish. The alcohol starts to think for you. Just having a couple seems boring, and all of a sudden you’d be a spoil sport for leaving your companions.

Staying out for more booze presents the allure of ‘living in the moment’, making the most of life, being spontaneous and crazy. The bank account becomes irrelevant, tomorrow’s tasks can wait, and the friends you’re meeting for dinner won’t mind too much if you don’t show up. After all, we’ve all been there.

For those of us inspired by a healthy diet, mindful living or striving to improve ourselves, and particularly for those of us with a daily meditation practice, alcohol poses extra challenges.

Meditation is defeated by the solace of a second snooze, being present is replaced by getting by, the potential inherent in every moment is vanquished, long term goals are slain by short term impulses. The mind is clouded, clarity lost, energy sapped. The body craves stimulants and junk food, anxiety increases and tiredness takes hold.

Of course to the regular drinker these symptoms might seem exaggerated, but I’m struck by how much of a poison alcohol seems to become after a period of abstention, time spent on a raw food diet, or sessions with a plant medicine like ayahuasca or psilocybin.

There is however a reason – and a good reason at that – why alcohol is so popular and why to contemplate giving up alcohol seems so bonkers to most people. Where would we get our fun?

Alcohol so kindly gives us the escape we crave, the sweetness and elation that so often is missing from our monotonous and dissatisfying daily lives. For a few hours we can forget our shitty jobs, stresses at home, spiritually unfulfilling culture and how long we have to wait until our next holiday.

The ritual of cracking open a bottle, or sitting back on a comfortable pub chair and taking that first sweet gulp offers a moment of satisfaction, the chink of glasses while saluting your fellow revellers a second of gratification and connection. Of course it’s a distraction, but it’s a welcome distraction that greases the wheels of social interaction while creating a space in which life is good and problems can be shared.

So how to deal with the question of whether to continue drinking or not? At my best I sense the potential that could be unlocked with the extra clarity of mind that would be available, the extra time, the physical strength, the early mornings and the weekends regained.

At my most inspired I feel how much more I could create and achieve and maybe even how much more stable my mind would be. In a country where the drinking culture is so ingrained this represents a huge challenge though, and there’s a lot I’d be turning my back on. I seem attached to the euphoria, sense of connection and carefree spirit of the good times, the letting go and the comfort of drinking with friends.

Maybe there is a middle ground to be found. If so it requires a clarity of intention and strength of mind. Maybe certain situations more prone to providing a slippery slope can be avoided while other more sedate occasions can be enjoyed. But again I come back to the intuition that this needs to be all or nothing.

I’ve had a long relationship with drink and I know its lessons inside out. Maybe it’s time to try a new way of living. In contemplating this I come to the realisation that the alcohol is not the root problem. If I was happy with my work and in my life I wouldn’t feel this attachment. I need to change these things. But maybe it’s more even than this. The benefits we seemingly gain from drinking – feeling more relaxed in the environment we’re in, connecting better with others – point to a deeper problem.

To greater or lesser degrees we all feel a sense of separation from those around us, and an absence of connection with the world. In other words we lack a sense of belonging. The human condition seems to necessitate this situation, and fear based patterns of thinking learnt during tricky childhoods exacerbate it’s influence.

There are many ways in which this manifests but one of them is a subtle or even profound sense of not being at ease in the world, and this is felt more acutely in certain more uncomfortable situations. Alcohol is often able to dissolve the boundaries that keep us from being able to feel connected with each other and with the world we inhabit, that keep us from feeling like we are truly supposed to be here in the world at large, or what ever scenario we are in. Drinking can therefore alleviate that most fundamental malaise.

Of course there are many reasons people drink, and there are doubtless many reasons I drink. But it does strike me that many of them can be attributed to this root cause – the pervasive sense of separation. To attain the middle ground and to have a healthy relationship with alcohol, one first has to heal the disconnection that is responsible for the inability to feel at ease. This is a significant task, and a life long one for some at that.

I’m not suggesting that we should all stop drinking, and in any case, ceasing to drink on it’s own will only put an end to your hangovers, not your hang ups. And of course many people have a healthy relationship with alcohol, where it is not used to self medicate, and where drinking alcohol does not lead to the inability to stop drinking and the consequent desire to get completely smashed on more and more drink, culminating in a quest to find something even stronger to take the mind somewhere more extreme, and not stopping until the body gives up and falls into that sweet, dreamless comatose slumber.

Those of us who drink might not all operate at this extreme, though I know so many who do, and it’s a tendency in myself that used to be very strong and still lies latently inside today. Despite the euphoria and apparently social bonding affect of getting wasted with friends or strangers, I currently find it difficult to continue to justify the physical damage, the lost weekends recovering, the anxiety that ensues after use, the dampening of dreams and absence of clarity about the future, not to mention the financial outlay that goes with alcohol consumption.

I desire to see what I can make of myself with out these handicaps, to see whether I really can be more creative, see goals through to fulfilment, be physically stronger, mentally more stable, spiritually more steadfast, and whether I can develop a healthier relationship with life. I can’t help but think that for me, after so many years, the game is up with booze.

I’m not suggesting it will be easy, or that it will even be successful, or that this is permanent. I also have no idea how I will approach invites to the pub, continuing to go to clubs to hear music I love, boozy weddings, dates, parties and after work socials. Such is the pervasiveness of drinking in society and my dis-ease with navigating these scenarios without being at least a little tipsy.

The path winds and is not straight. People and times change. What is appropriate now may not work in the future. Aside from those working with a strong addiction to alcohol there is no need to work with absolutes and impose on ourselves a lifetime ban on drinking.

To err is to be human after all, and this only sets ourselves up for failure in any case. It does however feel healthy for those of us with a passion for mindful living to explore alternative modes of being including both drinking and not drinking, learning what there is to learn from each state.

Remaining as present as we can, and through being as conscious and honest with ourselves as possible we can learn to observe the motivations and effects of our actions and discover what works and what causes us problems.

Hopefully we can come to a healthy arrangement with alcohol, whatever that is. After all, the human story is one of trying stuff out and of learning from our successes and mistakes. I’ve been very successful at drinking a lot over the years so for now I’m going to try something else.


4 thoughts on “I Drink Therefore I Am?: Grappling With Alcohol and Mindful Living”

  1. Hey M. Interesting article, and a good read. I found your thoughts on this an echo to the musings I’ve had in the last year which I then kicked into reality in India at the end of the year. I agree there is a sort of need of “filling a void” that comes from that sense of separation, and a conditioning and self-brainwashing we’ve perhaps allowed ourselves to fall into, that our capacity for fun or that an escape from incessant self-imposed mind limitations and anxieties relies in some way on this poison/nectar of choice.. Of course, as with anything, it is mind over matter. The mere fact that excessive boozing does in fact cause much of the anxiety anyway, in my view, through the conflicts of following a mindful path of spiritual development and wellbeing, should help point those aware of this contradiction to the direction which is right for us, at any given time. The positive I discovered was that by simply going with the feel for change, my body-mind naturally adjusted to a new way of being – with no urge to drink, yet infinite amounts of fun still enjoyed and even on a different level. Coming up to 5 months without it, I had one night on the beers just before leaving Goa last week and it was fun, without consequence, and my tolerance was so much lower it was a cheap and healthy enough night, 4 small beers and I’d had plenty! Like you, my past relationship with this dark old friend had me wondering if I would be forever at its mercy and in its clutches, but the outlook for a much healthier and more free life to actually follow our dreams without being held back were always there and will always be, whether we stop drinking altogether or cut it back to the odd fun night on special occasions :). Good luck on your quest too my lovely x

    • Hey Lou, thank you, lovely words. I think you’re dead right and there is a balance to be struck and a healthy relationship to be had with booze. For me I think it will take a period of abstention to get there, but I’m already feeling the positive effects and really have no desire to drink at all at the moment. I get high off the clarity and I don’t want to spoil it!

      I also agree that the anxiety etc can be a symptom of drinking and can lead to a bit of a vicious circle. I want to mindfully work with the sense of separation and unease that is present sometimes and get to know it. I reckon with a bit of work the boundaries that separate us from ‘now’ can be dissolved without a drink! Thanks again!

  2. You said it. The illusion of separation is the problem. We grapple with the need to be connected. Unless we are connecting to Source in the privacy of our own time/thoughts & contemplation, nothing will ever be a suitable substitute. I’ve been stone cold sober and free of chemicals for 18 yrs. I still think about it but it’s not a monkey with claws any more. It’s just a passing thought. If you want to rap about it on a podcast, let me know.

Comments are closed.