Sometimes I write to entertain, sometimes to inform, sometimes to persuade, and sometimes I write to help myself to process my experiences and feelings. It was for this last purpose that I wrote my posting about grog. I occasionally share this kind of writing on my blog with the hopes that someone might say something that sheds light on whatever issue I’m grappling with, or perhaps someone else might be processing similar experiences or feelings and be heartened to know they aren’t alone. I appreciate the thoughtful comments which have been posted already.
I got an email from someone who seemed to have taken offence at that post. I hope it was clear to most people that I was not passing judgement on any individual or any group of people. I know people drink for all kinds of reasons and lots of people I love very much drink. As I said in that post, "I feel powerless and baffled in the face of extensive alcohol use."
I was commenting on my own feelings and reactions to seeing people drink, both people I know and like, and strangers. My reaction to alcohol has been one of aversion for a long time. It seems to hold so much power, yet I have seen it cause so much pain. For years I avoided being around alcohol and also avoided thinking about it much.
It is said that aversion is simply another face (or facet) of desire. In the pursuit of peace of mind, it seems worthwhile to explore both desire and aversion. What do I cling to? What do I run from? What attracts me and what repels? What thoughts or events cause me to be suddenly staring down into that deep shaft (is it a pit or a well?) of sadness, listening as a pebble ping-ping-pings down, bouncing and echoing in the dark? I strain to see if there is any light reflecting on water at the bottom, but there’s no sign, no evidence that this well has an end.
Do we all have our own private wells of sadness? We may stumble across them by accident, but then we keep coming back to gaze down in, drop in stones or coins for good luck, try to understand what is in there and where it comes from. Watching or seeing people drink is one thing that can take me right up to the brink of my own sadness, and I'm suddenly looking into that ominous darkness.
What leads you to peer down into your own deep well? And when you've taken a metaphor way too far, how do you step back from that precipice?
Bittersweet
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Eyal and I always knew that it would be difficult building a family from
two different countries. It is just now, however, that we have to really
put that ...
13 years ago
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4 comments:
Aversion itself leads me to peer. The (occasionally achieved) insight that I am running from something usually leads me to consider what it is I'm running from, and why. And the motivation to consider this (because peering is bloody frightening sometimes) is usually derived from a belief that I would be happier, or have greater well-being for doing so, compared to my (usually poor) well-being when I'm running from something.
It helps to have someone hold your hand while you lean over the well.
Hi Catalin....I've (this is Lisa Harmon if you cannot tell) never commented on a blog before so does that make me a virgin blogger or something. I went on your site looking for pictures but found your comments on alcohol use. As you know I usually avoid extensive alcohol use because I feel the lack of control from those drinking too much and it scares me. I think my fear goes back to childhood encounters with alcoholics and my parent's attempt at sheltering me from these people.....but apparently I was not completely untouched by the situations. I usually avoid drinking altogether in the U.S. (I have a better understanding of what to expect from reading people) but have found myself in many uncomfortable situations while traveling/living abroad where I have found myself feeling "powerless and baffled" watching friends drink extensively. (This happens more to me abroad because I am the outsider trying to understand situations happening in other languages with other social boundaries not because of the cultural groups/people). I still don't understand alcohol's appeal and hold on certain people. As you know, I have just had a son and now worry about how to help guide him through the murky land of alcohol use.....knowing that it impacts us all in different ways and our connections to each other.
Thanks, Anonymous.
Lisa, congratulations on your first blog-comment! There ARE photos here and I hope you found some. I don't always yammer on on such heavy topics, either. I'm so excited for your adventures with Isaac. You & Luke will find ways to guide him through all kinds of murky bits because you'll also be walking with him through all kinds of sunshine and he'll learn from you to appreciate the beauty of the world.
My parents hardly ever drink - I've never seen them drunk, and I think as a result alcohol, and people who consume a lot of it, really scared me when I was younger, and still today when I am sober and in a rowdy drunk crowd. Though come to think of it, rowdy drunk crowds probably scare anyone who doesn't feel a part of it, drunk or sober. Anyway, I do drink occasionally, and hardly ever to the point where I feel out of control. My body tells me when to stop: alcohol becomes no longer attractive after three/four glasses. For the longest time I couldn't understand how people could keep drinking past that point: don't their bodies tell them not to? Aren't they desperate for water, or surely they become too tired to be able to keep drinking?
I have noticed though that sometimes when I'm running from the well, that my own body fails to tell me to stop. Or rather, I fail to listen to it trying to tell me to stop. I realised then why others drink to excess. The escapism is fantastic, and the subsequent hangover is punishment 'deserved', especially when you think people in that state are punishing themselves emotionally as well. Like people who cut themselves, as some kind of physical realisation of their emotional pain, or because they 'deserve' to be punished.
And then to esacpe that suffering, one can drink to escape it...
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