Dry May
image via angela mayhoe
Pour It Out
A super cold gin martini, three olives (yes three because I have a thing for odd numbers) with a twist is a necessary one-third to my holy grail equation of must-have cocktails. The grounding taste of the gin botanicals lubricate my tongue, melting into each taste bud like a kid’s rocky road ice cream cone on a summer’s day. Each trickle inviting a satisfaction that can only be felt, not spoken. Its hypnotizing side effects are capable of transcending any dinner conversation into a palatable experience and morphing unwanted guests into my closet confidantes - add another round and you can create the ultimate utopian society in one sip - at least until the check arrives.
My love affair of cocktails ignited later in life after my first swig of a Corona from the meticulously merchandised fridge at the luxury t-shirt boutique I worked at when I was 27. We would offer parched patrons bottles of shamelessly branded water, Mexican beer and smooth chilled vodka reserved for the regulars. After months of peer pressure from my buzzed coworkers to partake in the fun, it was the added lime slice sticking out of the bottle that lowered my guard - I gave in. Liked synchronized swimmers, my coworkers would place their beers in the freezer 20 minutes before we closed to achieve the best icy chill. One night, I casually added my bottle in the freezer too, next to the horizontally placed bottle of Grey Goose that immediately went opaque as I rapidly swung open the door in excitement. Once the last client brushed the threshold; venturing out onto the sidewalk with bags full of overpriced tees and stuffed with validation that we hand feed them from silver platters, we turned up the music and grabbed our beers. There was a wave shock of “hell yeahs” when I also followed along and entered the kitchen to grab my beer from the freezer. My work family boasted proud smiles of the results of their efforts after months of monologues from each of them as to why I should be drinking. One person helped me pop the cap, another coached me on how to hold the bottle, while the other one explained how to sink the lime wedge to the bottom. My moment finally came, the iced bottle immediately began to condensate in my sophomoric hands as I managed to squeeze a small portion of the lime juice into the bottle. After one quick lick of my sticky thumbs, I titled my head back and got a rush of golden lime effervescence down my throat. The taste was a bit medicinal, sour, sweet and refreshing. I received a standing ovation as I took another sip but felt a huge disappointment as it only contain beer and had already lost its limey goodness and pulp shrapnel.
Over a period of time, I would sip a little more than the night before and immediately tag team Adam, who was always close by waiting to receive my bottle sans a few tiny sips here and there. He had a puppy presence of wonder; every time you turned around he was there waiting impatiently to tell you a story about his night out or childhood excursions of mischief that made him a certified badass. He would finish off my portion in one long southern gulp and then give me tips to prepare me for my next attempt. One night, Adam came over on cue to drink the rest of my beer but to his surprise, the bottle was empty; with his charming Texas drawl and innocent boy face, he patted me on the back and said, “Alriiiight”! I was officially apart of the team and in that moment, Adam became my guru of shifty shenanigans and bad decisions.
- - - - -
I received a download during my meditation one morning to stop drinking for the month of May. It came as a knowing, like an old memory that resurfaced after getting a cue from the Universe. I have been on a deep authentic self love practice for the past few months that consist of creating new neurological pathways and reprogramming the parts that no longer serve me. I follow prompts to slow down my breathing, figuratively step into my favorite place in nature while extinguishing the repetitive belief that I am not enough. My intentions are simple, to dismantle and rearrange my normalcy into what I know I’m capable of becoming. In order to accept this new stage in my life that is filled with everything that I’ve been manifesting; what my mother wanted for me, what my grandmother desired, and what the ancestors had been praying for, I had to honor the inner voice and take action when the breadcrumbs dropped.
I’ve never felt that I had a need for alcohol, I just enjoy the taste of gin botanicals and a peaty scotch. For me, it’s a guilty pleasure that can sometimes become an over indulgence. Like the time I consumed fresh black truffles over my pasta. When I witnessed the waiter shaved them onto my plate, with a Salt Bae attitude and that first taste of umami that cyclone in my mouth with each and every bite; should be a feeling that you have every time your stomach growls for nourishment. However, I’m sure at some point eating too many truffles can also alter your reality as well but the indulgence of beautiful things are just ingrained in my DNA.
So far, the results of my May challenge has been a success! I feel more energized and have clearer thoughts. I wake up early, which is a Christmas miracle as I have never been a morning person. Most importantly, I showed up for myself and began reinforcing the new neural pathways that says I matter and I’m here to show up for myself as I desire for someone to show up for me. The lesson I have learned through this is that creating the ultimate environment is the foundational work before you began to plant change into your life.
So I’m continuing my reprogramming program, creating new habits, going back to the old habits only to return to the new habits again and making micro-sized wins everyday. I’ll drink to that - santé!