Tuesday, January 13, 2009

LIVING TO THE FULL

I saw a beautiful sunset the other day. The sky was a deep red, the clouds a white-rose, in sharp contrast with the blue-black ground, the white lights of the neon signs, and the brilliance of the street lights. The air was cool and muggy, and as my wife Diane and I drove into the coming night it seemed as if we were in a different world, one of beauty and calm. This morning, after writing this article, I went swimming early, before anyone was around. The water was cold and the air was brisk and crackled with the warming sun's rays. Every night, after dinner, I spend an hour riding my bicycle around town, and out into the country. Exercise? Yes, but there is a great sense of freedom when I am on my bike. There is a feeling of getting back to the more base aspects of my life. The feeling of doing something by oneself, and for oneself. Six years ago I couldn't have enjoyed the sunset, wouldn't have gone swimming in the early morning, nor would I have had the enjoyment or freedom of a bicycle ride. The reason? I was a prisoner of alcohol; of a bottle. Unable to see further than the bottom of a glass; the whole world to me was the next drink, the buddy that could drink with me, and the close confines of my world, where I lived like a monk in a cocoon. I was insulated from the outside world by an existence that was very limited in scope. There was no way that I would risk living properly, for I was caught in a self-built web of drinking. The early morning sunrise was there but I couldn't see it; Life was out ther but I couldn't live it. It took me years after I quit drinking to fully appreciate life, and everything out there waiting for me. I wake up now with a raging desire to live, and enjoy life, and savour everything about it. My senses are acutely honed since there is no more booze therefore life is more meaningful. I have often said that, if there suddenly was a way invented that I could return to drinking safely, I would turn it down. Life is too great, there is too much fun to be had, too many wonderful things to do, to have them screwed up by drinking. Drinking takes the fine edge off everything as it dull the senses and acts as anesthetic to the nerves and soul. It is like living in a pickle jar, kept away from everything "out there" which is meaningful and enjoyable. Perhaps at the age of 42 I feel that time will eventually run out, and I don't want to waste a precious second of it. It is here, now, and I want it; every little bit of emotion, beauty, and every experience that I can drag out of it. Life is precious to me: it is mine, and I want to have full control over it. Nothing, absolutely nothing like alcohol is going to take it away from me. DONALD FELSTEAD Don says: I wrote this article in September of 1975. Now at age 75 I feel (again) that time will eventually run out! I still wake up with the raging desire to live, however, everything is a bit slower, and pain in the joints and other disagreable ailments often take the edge off a bit, but only a bit. I hope this is an inspiration for someone out there that suffers from alcohol addiction. It can be beaten. It is worth every bit of work you put into it. GO FOR IT! By the way, my wife and I are still together, we have been married 50 years next June (2009). And loving it!

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