This week marked the passing of one whole year since I last drank alcohol.
A personal experiment of sorts to see what good could come of changing my habits. And before I go any further, I feel the need to preface this article by saying no, nothing “bad” happened; there wasn’t a rock bottom that served as its catalyst, but rather life and the efforts we make to build the one we want for ourselves. While my husband and I were in the midst of planning (another) major move, I simply thought, How can I be my best self in order to meet this challenge? So I started by removing alcohol and then, slowly, a profound change came in surprising, unintentional ways. In the words below, I’ve attempted to synthesize the insight I’ve gained this past year, culminating with the discovery and application of mindfulness in both my personal and professional life.

Though some titles are missing (like Cal Newport’s straight-forward, indispensable guide Deep Work), this is an accurate snapshot of the contents of my brain these past 12 months.

---

Dealing with change

It wouldn’t be a challenge for me to write about how removing alcohol has benefited my physical health and well-being, or how its removal has impacted me in other obvious ways (blissful sleep! glowing skin! boundless energy!). Instead, I’d rather share something less tangible that took the place of this long-time habit of mine: mindfulness.

When I made the commitment to cut out alcohol I took up an exercise routine, but I quickly found that during times of stress and emotional upheaval, it wasn’t enough; something was missing. I couldn’t outrun emotions that, when alcohol-free, were consuming and often debilitating. This was a period of time in my life that encompassed big changes: after three years, my husband and I decided it was time to leave Portland, Oregon and set our sights and careers on New York City, our original destination coming back stateside before the pandemic told us otherwise. In the fall, I quit my job, packed up our belongings, moved back across the country, reconnected with family and friends, strategized our path to NYC, explored and learned the city and its many boroughs and neighborhoods, and searched for that next career opportunity.

It was a challenge to navigate these changes without relying on alcohol to “relax” or “come down” from the residual stress, but I had made a commitment to my experiment. Very quickly I discovered I had no choice but to simply sit with my emotions, and that in itself was incredibly difficult. Doable, but difficult. Before discovering mindfulness, I had relied on knowing that eventually (usually the next day) the difficult feelings would pass and I would feel better.

But waiting for that next day’s relief didn’t help me process my emotions in the present; so many times I leaned on (or cried, complained, vented to) my husband for that. I didn’t realize I was capable, on my own, of separating myself from my overwhelming feelings and thoughts; that I could objectively look at them and acknowledge them in order to “feel better.” The realization that I was dependent on someone else to help me navigate this sober, emotional minefield led me to realize I needed something more self-directed, something actionable. I eventually found myself asking, How am I growing and moving forward from processing these difficult changes and feelings? What am I doing in the present to make future struggles less difficult?

Your body and mind (not) on booze

One of the funny things about completely removing alcohol from your system is the amount of energy – physical and mental – you seem to incur. It came in waves, every day: energy and joy, a natural high, as cliché as that sounds. This is how I was able to establish the habit of exercise, but what to do with my overactive brain? Mentally, I was hungry for something to do with this newfound sense of clarity and concentration and I naturally rekindled my love affair with books. I started reading voraciously. 

When I was in graduate school studying Italian literature, I had to read a lot. And ever since I got that degree, I had difficulty consuming books for pleasure. But with alcohol removed, my brain was on fire, and I found myself spending time and money no longer at my neighborhood wine bar but at my neighborhood bookstore, Powell’s City of Books (if you’ve spent time in Portland, you know what a treasure that place is). 

Starting with books about living alcohol-free (Sober Curious by Ruby Warrington) and about my most favorite city, Rome (Rome as a Guide to the Good Life by Scott Samuelson), I went down a biblio-rabbit hole. From Rome, I dove into Stoicism, which led to other branches of philosophy, particularly of the Eastern variety. Then, Zen Buddhism, meditation, and ultimately mindfulness. This particular topic introduced holistic approaches to mental and physical well-being, which brought me full circle with removing alcohol. It felt wonderfully connected and self-manifested.

Reading about mindfulness eventually brought a new dimension to my professional work and my NYC job hunt. It’s helped me understand and articulate the values that drive the work I pursue: education, bringing others in, inclusiveness and non-duality, healing through holistic learning, and connection across cultures and nationalities. It has also given me the courage and clarity to write and reflect.

Mindfulness in action

So what is mindfulness and how do we approach it? Jon Kabat-Zinn, professor of medicine emeritus at the University of Massachusetts Medical School and founder of the Center for Mindfulness at said university, has built a career (and life) on this topic. I find this metaphor of his a great answer to that question: “Think of mindfulness as a lens, taking the scattered and reactive energies of your mind and focusing them into a coherent source of energy for living, for problem solving, for healing” (Full Catastrophe Living, xx). 

When we sit quietly and practice mindfulness, we are engaging with an opportunity, in the present, to remove ourselves from the trappings of our continuous cycle of thoughts. Our thoughts never seem to stop, do they? But what happens if you try?

Mindfulness in action means bringing your full attention and awareness to whatever you are doing in the present moment, whether it’s a mundane task or a meaningful interaction.

It can be as simple as pausing, taking slow deep breaths, and noticing what you’re feeling without getting caught up with why you’re feeling. By making mindful, objective observations, you allow yourself to notice the ephemeral nature of your thoughts and feelings as well as the subjectivity of your perceptions. They change all the time. Realizing this brings freedom, and with that, positive action.

Like many of us, I have found that the stress of life’s challenges often lead to a rumination of thoughts, feelings, worries, and fears, and this rumination often creates anxiety or some form of arresting restlessness. Before you know it, you are living in the past (I should have done XYZ, or Why did XYZ turn out this way?) and/or the future (What will happen next? I’ll be happy when…). It’s easy to lose yourself in this way of thinking. 

Mindfulness brings you back to the present and trains your thoughts to be productive instead of debilitating. Kabat-Zinn put this eloquently when he said, “Mindfulness is an effort to understand the nature of our thoughts as thoughts and our relationship to them, so that they can be more at our service rather than the other way round” (Wherever You Go There You Are, 95). When we gain control over the whims of our thoughts, we clear the path for more productive things to manifest.

Practicing mindfulness

Renew thyself completely each day; do it again, and again, and forever again.
Tseng Tzu as cited by Henry David Thoreau in “Walden“

The topic of mindfulness is an umbrella of practices and philosophies, but that’s what makes it universal and approachable; anyone can tap into, learn, and apply it in a myriad of ways. For me, I found the works written by Dr. Kabat-Zinn and the Vietnamese Buddhist monk and activist Thich Nhat Hanh to be indispensably foundational. Mindfulness can be a personal journey or a practical approach to work (or both!) – it’s up to you. But I believe if you start paying attention, you’ll find that mindfulness can enhance every aspect of your life.

Has developing a daily practice of mindfulness – brought about from changing my habits and removing alcohol – made me a “better” person? A “better” professional? I’m not sure it’s made me “better” in definable outcomes indicative of “success” (I’m still looking for that next career opportunity), but it’s made me more sure of who I am, how I work, and what I have to contribute to society at large. It’s made me a more capable human being, more present and authentic in my relationships, and more open to connection and opportunity. 

So what’s my advice? Make space in your daily life for growth, not only in skill but in mindset. For a catalyst to usher in some kind of real change, you don’t have to give up drinking alcohol like I did; you can adjust and change your habits in a number of ways that are holistic and constructive. But the truth is we are what we choose to do (or not do) every day, and it’s what I chose not to do that made room for a real mind shift. Autonomy, if you have it, is a priceless gift; explore what makes you feel whole. Reintroduce yourself to yourself. Being present will carry you to some fantastic places if you give yourself the space and time to begin. 

---

Works Cited:

Kabat-Zinn, Jon. Full Catastrophe Living. Bantam Dell Publishing, 2013.
Kabat-Zinn, Jon. Wherever You Go There You Are. 10th ed., Hyperion, 2005.