Back in my drinking days, mornings were made for hangovers, filled with regret and shame. It was far easier to ignore the alarm and bury myself under the duvet and hide. The day was too hard to face and being healthy or active was the last thing I wanted to do. I just yearned for everything to go away and for the non-stop negative chatter of my head to stop.
It’s different now I am sober. These days, my morning walk is the highlight of my day. Before breakfast, or a shower, I make a move outside. I shake off my slumber and let nature weave its magic in my mind and on my body as I walk. I try not to think too much – it’s so tempting to plan my day but this is not a strategy session or a focused physical workout – it’s time for my mind to unfold and my body to wake up as my feet tread the grass and I breathe deeply in the fresh, sweet morning air.
Some trees make me stop with their magnificence, their silence, their reverence.
The more I stand and observe, the longer I soak in their presence, the calmer I feel.
And the flowers! It’s late spring and a flurry of blooms bustle against each other, flirting and winking at me, bringing me to my knees with their perfect beauty and fragrance. They sing a song of silent joy which fills me with ticklish delight.
Today, I walked across a green field. Halfway through, lost in the moment, I lay down on the grass so I could stare at the sky. Cloud-watching, I have found, is an effortless meditation that comforts me like nothing else.
Returning home, my mind feels free of the debris of yesterday. Facing the day is not a task I dread, instead it’s a pleasure to plan as I feel fresh and calm and peaceful.
It seems like another great day to be sober.
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