A look back at the latest in our "Sober Oldster" collaboration with The Small Bow. Here, tidbits from the most recent interviews in this popular monthly series.
Being a “Sober Oldster” is absolutely one of the very best things to be. I only wish it didn’t take me ‘til my sixties to get the there—but as they say….better late than…
I realized in my 40s that alcohol just doesn't agree with me. It's rather embarrassing that it took that long for me to figure it out. I'm so sensitive to it that I can't even use alcohol based tinctures. The worst part is people being so aghast when I say "no thank you" to alcohol. I don't owe anyone an explanation. My husband is disabled and he told me I should just make up some crazy story like "see my husband over there? The man wearing the leg braces? Well, one night I came home drunk, he pissed me off and I whacked him with a cast iron skillet. Now he needs leg braces." I haven't had a chance to use it yet, but I am looking forward to doing it.
Damn. What Rick Moody said captures that perfectly: recovery isn’t a promise of peace, it’s preparation for impact.
It’s learning how to meet life as it comes whether it’s the grief, the endings we wish we didn’t have to face, all of it. Sobriety doesn’t stop the cart from overturning; it just teaches you how to pick up the apples and keep walking. Without having a temper tantrum and throwing the apples as if that helps.
We feel everything now, and that includes all the raw, unfiltered, sometimes unbearably painful moments. But we also learn how to stay.
Recovery doesn’t protect us from loss or bad days, or shit, bad years; it just strips away the anesthesia we used to pretend that it wasn’t happening. Even at 7 years of sobriety, it’s still hard to feel *everything* all of the time. But, hard or not, I kinda like it that way now, too.
Thank you so very much for these sober stories. I stopped drinking alcohol sometime in the last ten years, although I can't recall exactly when. I didn't have an addiction, but alcohol created problems for me. It took years (decades?) for me to accept that. Seeing it clearly came along with my move out of The Identity Project and into The Reality Project, as the yoga teacher Stephen Cope writes about.
Being a “Sober Oldster” is absolutely one of the very best things to be. I only wish it didn’t take me ‘til my sixties to get the there—but as they say….better late than…
I appreciate you. I got sober at 45 and sometimes I wish I'd been able to get recovery sooner.
<3
<3
I realized in my 40s that alcohol just doesn't agree with me. It's rather embarrassing that it took that long for me to figure it out. I'm so sensitive to it that I can't even use alcohol based tinctures. The worst part is people being so aghast when I say "no thank you" to alcohol. I don't owe anyone an explanation. My husband is disabled and he told me I should just make up some crazy story like "see my husband over there? The man wearing the leg braces? Well, one night I came home drunk, he pissed me off and I whacked him with a cast iron skillet. Now he needs leg braces." I haven't had a chance to use it yet, but I am looking forward to doing it.
The portrait illustrations are so wonderful!
Edith Zimmerman is amazing.
how do you do it all. 🔥
It’s my job. <3
Really loving Edith’s portraits! 💖
Me, too!
Agree!!
Damn. What Rick Moody said captures that perfectly: recovery isn’t a promise of peace, it’s preparation for impact.
It’s learning how to meet life as it comes whether it’s the grief, the endings we wish we didn’t have to face, all of it. Sobriety doesn’t stop the cart from overturning; it just teaches you how to pick up the apples and keep walking. Without having a temper tantrum and throwing the apples as if that helps.
We feel everything now, and that includes all the raw, unfiltered, sometimes unbearably painful moments. But we also learn how to stay.
Recovery doesn’t protect us from loss or bad days, or shit, bad years; it just strips away the anesthesia we used to pretend that it wasn’t happening. Even at 7 years of sobriety, it’s still hard to feel *everything* all of the time. But, hard or not, I kinda like it that way now, too.
Thank you so very much for these sober stories. I stopped drinking alcohol sometime in the last ten years, although I can't recall exactly when. I didn't have an addiction, but alcohol created problems for me. It took years (decades?) for me to accept that. Seeing it clearly came along with my move out of The Identity Project and into The Reality Project, as the yoga teacher Stephen Cope writes about.