Before choosing an alcohol-free path, I led a very fast-paced and indulgent lifestyle. I traveled a lot with friends and family, and I had a steady stream of packages on my front doorstep from an unhealthy online shopping habit. I lived on a farm with a big backyard and a pool and a wine cellar. So of course, everyone flocked to my place for endless fun. Every weekend my home was a revolving door of folks looking for a good time. The booze flowed heavy and constant, the food was bountiful, and pretty much everything was consumed in excess. It was like an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel, but without the cute flapper dresses.
Towards the end of my drinking, I remember those parties losing their luster. I began to dread weekends when people would “stop by” for a few hours. The times when the house was filled with laughter and music were the times I felt most alone. Deep down in my bones, I felt like something was missing. From the outside it looked like I was living a life of merriment and prosperity. But inside, I felt nothing but lack. So much was absent. So much had disappeared. All the pure, genuine riches of my life felt elusive and inaccessible. With alcohol’s help, I stayed in that heartbreaking isolation for way longer than I’d like to admit.
I finally realized that nothing I was doing or buying or consuming was bringing me joy. I couldn’t appreciate anything, because the “stuff” I had so much of (the overflow of material things) was slowly eating away at my mind, body, and spirit. The one thing I needed most was to feel connected – with myself, with others, with the Universe. And everything I was doing was taking me further and further away from how I wanted to feel.
It wasn’t until I quit drinking that the connection I craved began to build. I started listening to my intuition and I stopped hiding from things that scare me. I stopped living the frenetic lifestyle I became so accustomed to. I went inward for a while, and the union between my desires and my actions began to gratify me more than any party ever could.
And yes, many things fell away. Many people, places, and habits had to be adjusted or released. I had to make a lot of difficult changes to live a life that feels more aligned. The space between letting something go and building something new is a lonely space indeed.
Now, the only beverage flowing in my home is Pellegrino. I have far less visitors, but I enjoy more quality relationships and meaningful conversations. Sometimes my house is full of young boys and butt jokes, and sometimes it’s silent. I don’t shop nearly as much as I used to. And that’s because what delights me most cannot be bought. My world is smaller, quieter, slower.
I did not have this level of consciousness when I was drinking. For me, abundance has become less about how much I have, and more about how much I feel.
4 Prompts to Cultivate Abundance in Sobriety:
Today, I encourage you to look at what abundance means for you. Grab a journal or sit quietly and reflect on these questions:
1.) Am I rich in things that feed my mind, body, and spirit?
2.) Am I stuffed-full of nourishing connections?
3.) Is my life over-flowing with experiences that bring me joy and strength?
4.) What do I need more of? What do I need less of?
I wish you all the abundance you are seeking.
Big love -
xx Andrea
Listen, I know that sobriety is no joke! Heck, even saying the word out loud can feel hard sometimes. That's exactly why I created this coaching business: to support you on your journey through exploring & designing a sober life that sets you free.
If (and when) you're ready to get curious and take action towards creating your dream sober life, get in touch! I'm always one click away, and your ultimate dream life awaits. That I can say for certain ;)