“So, first follow the truth, and then the truth will follow you.” –Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, Commentary by Sri Swami Satchidananda, 2.36

If you have taken any of my yoga classes, you have probably heard me say that yoga is more than the physical practice, and you’ve done some simple mindfulness exercises. You might have heard me talk about vairagya—non-attachment. Hopefully you felt encouraged to make effort for its own sake, without clinging to the thought of that ideal outcome. Vairagya is one of many fundamental concepts in yoga that originated in ancient texts like The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. My goal is always to connect my yoga practice and teaching to its roots.

With that goal in mind, this entry is inspired by the Yoga Sutras. The Portion on Practice introduces all eight “limbs” of yoga, of which the physical practice (asana) is only one. Listed before asana are the yamas—moral restraints, and niyamas—moral observances. Truthfulness, or satya, is one of the yamas. Swadyaya, or self-study, is one of the niyamas. My experience has often found these two concepts close together. Swadyaya means study of a spiritual nature—spiritual texts, for example. It is important to recall that yoga is “the journey of the self, by the self, through the self.” Therefore, the study of spiritual texts should be an inward study of what the reader sees or takes from the texts, aka “self-study”. To be able to observe our self in this way requires self-awareness, but more importantly, self-honesty. As I decided what this blog entry about alcohol abstinence should be–what to include and what not to include–I feel the pull to make my drinking habits sound or seem a particular way. The thought in the back of my head says there is nothing unusual in the quantity or frequency of my drinking, so why look too hard? The presence of this thought indicates to me that it’s actually extra important to engage this process and the words I create around it with a commitment to satya.

It normally takes a human body about five days to get past all the aftereffects of even one day of drinking alcohol, and now I’m just past the halfway point. I know that my body is done eliminating any alcohol byproducts, and that the thoughts and feelings I am having are not directly due to the influence of those chemicals or processes.

Before I started abstaining from alcohol this month, I was consistently having several (2-6 with high variability) beers 3-4 nights per week—more than recommended, less than the amount it takes to give me a hangover. As in a typical swimming pool season, I also had several binges over the course of the summer, the kind that create slow mornings and an entire day’s worth of junk food. My habit is definitely enough to have persistent effects on mood, including anxiety and depression, which can turn into a self-reinforcing cycle and which eventually becomes alcohol addiction in many people. I’m glad to be giving myself this gift of increased awareness this month, these opportunities to notice my impulses to use alcohol, and to observe any physical, mental, and emotional changes.

States of Being

I have seen dramatic changes in my income and employment since March. The search for decent work is discouraging. I live in a college town, and our transmission rates are going up and up no matter how many people I don’t hug—which I miss to extremes. Building a portfolio in freelance writing means getting paid garbage for excellent and careful work. I have significant and shifting community service commitments that I constantly feel like I’m not quite living up to, and I internally insist on comparing my responsibilities to my friends who have jobs AND kids in these uncertain circumstances. (This is the part where I dismiss the legitimacy of my own feelings of stress and belittle any work I do accomplish.)

Suffice it to say, I know I’m not the only person who has been following substance impulses more regularly. The amazing thing about my years of mindfulness practice is that I have practiced satya enough to be genuinely more honest with myself, which means I can actively notice this behavior. And if I can notice it, I can decide whether it aligns with what I understand as my highest good. And if it doesn’t, I can choose to make a change. The truth is, it’s all me.

I want to remember that when I feel a lot of responsibility, alcohol seems to expand my capacity to “just keep swimming” and not get stuck or talk myself out of my tasks. Is that false bravado I create, or does using alcohol actually dull the edge of my toxic perfectionism? The truth is, this is difficult for me to discern. I think my task right now is to witness that negative perfectionism in all its deadly glory and perhaps strategize different ways through it. I know that suppressing and avoiding my internal states is as damaging in the long run as alcohol is damaging to the body. I have a book that refers to meditation as hygiene for the mind. Maybe I need to commit more time to tidying up. This is exactly what some yoga-isms say—that if you “don’t have” ten minutes to meditate, that means you need an hour. I meditate, but maybe I need to build in some extra.

Impulses

My “Have a drink to wind down,” impulse is significantly lower than it was. For me, it only takes a day or so for that thought to fade into a type of background that I easily move beyond. I feel relieved at that. It feels like I can be assured that I don’t have physical dependence on alcohol. I have never had to take a drink in the morning to stop my hands from shaking or to get going, but I think physical dependence is much more subtle than that for a long time. The mind will tell us a lot of things to get us to behave in a way we have taught it to depend on. And that includes creating intense “want” for a drink and rationalizing of behavior long before it creates a physical “need”.

Thinking back to last Sober September, this socially distanced version is neither harder nor easier. Last year, I ran a gauntlet of social outings while sober—a birthday dinner, a brunch, a concert—and it wasn’t a problem. This year, there are a handful of back porches I visit, and like last year, it doesn’t bother me to be around other people who are drinking. I also don’t feel like I want to drink to stave off loneliness or boredom. I like having this knowledge, a lot. It means I have the space to do whatever I would be doing, and that I don’t choose to drink just because everyone else is. It means my friendships are built around true enjoyment of the people I want to spend time with, not mutually convenient proximity to a substance we like.

I feel the alcohol-sugar connection very acutely. I REALLY WANT sweet drinks like sodas, desserts, more honey with my breakfast—there are brownies baking in my oven as I type this sentence. Because my goal is Sober September, not Sugarfree September, I am indulging in an extent of sweets that I normally don’t. (Sidenote: I wonder if simultaneously quitting alcohol and sugar cold turkey isn’t a major diet saboteur for people with weight loss goals.) My usual 12 oz. light beer has 95 calories, which means I had been enjoying about 1600 calories per week in beer alone. That is almost an entire day’s worth of calories, y’all. Meanwhile, one brownie has between 130-200 calories depending on serving size, and a soda has about 140 calories. I’m able to satisfy my sweet tooth with only one treat rather than several beers, so I’m reducing those extra calories to about 25% of their Peak Beer total. One of my goals going forward will be to maintain awareness of those alcohol calories and remind myself that it really is extra sugar. It’s not good for my health for that reason alone.

What’s Different

I’ll start with the one that stands out to most people who try alcohol abstinence—deeper sleep. Alcohol does depress the central nervous system, which makes falling asleep feel like it’s going to be deep sleep. But its diuretic properties make me more likely to wake up to pee, and can cause that to happen more than once. The other thing that will wake me up is the point when my body converts all that alcohol into energizing glucose. The “sugar high” part of alcohol is slower to set in, but just as pronounced as if I ate four brownies instead of drinking four beers. So some nights of moderate drinking and a reasonable bedtime, I would get up to pee and then stare at the ceiling for an hour or two.

Alcohol has been shown to decrease the number of REM cycles the brain completes in a given night, which means less restorative sleep even if you are not conscious. You (I) physically and mentally recuperate from life less if you drink routinely. We know a lot now about the profound damage sleep deprivation can cause, so I want to commit to understanding my sleep as precious time whose quality I want to protect. Yoga and meditation go a long way, but so do my choices of what to put into my body.

I notice that my coffee works better in the morning. This might be entirely due to being better hydrated—another benefit of reducing alcohol—or it might be that my brain is more prepared to be alert because I am fully rested. Either way, the caffeine feels like a nice perk I give myself for getting halfway through the morning instead of a necessity to make my thoughts come together.

I feel more aware of my core when I work out. This could again come down to hydration, but it could also be neural pathways functioning better because my digestive organs aren’t so busy processing alcohol and its byproducts. My waist and belly feel smaller, which I think is bound to be related to the lower net sugar intake. I feel like I am able to do core and ab exercises more effectively, and that they are paying off more. Is this because my body is better at muscle repair with the better sleep? Is this just a self-serving perception I created because I want there to be vanity benefits of giving up alcohol? I’m not sure. Self-study often reveals the places where I lack understanding of my own behaviors or motivations, and that’s why it’s important.

What I Want To Keep

I want to keep it casual with alcohol. I want to work hard in my garden, on my horse, at my computer, and on my yoga mat. And sometimes I want to crack open a cold beer when I’m done, but I don’t want my anticipation to feel pronounced. I want to raise a glass because of joy and deliciousness, with nothing to hide, to not become attached to the thought of when I can have the next one.

Last year, I didn’t set future goals about my drinking. This year, I think it’s very important to spend time considering what I think is ideal in quantity and frequency. It’s important to sit with the truth of my awareness, even if what I see there is uncomfortable.

My meditation practice was really strong in March when I came home from Advanced Yoga Teacher Training in Guatemala. I felt afraid of the uncertainty, but powerful and fearless. I spent a lot of time listening to songs about Light. I thought y’all might like this one, which is really about the truth.

Thank you, India.