on drinking (1)

I figured my first real post here would be about the "obvious" stuff--I hate packing so much, I have more things to do than days left to do them in, I'll miss my friends, etc.
Of course, that's just not "me." Of course, I would have to talk about mindfulness.

I went out with friends from work for one last MetalHead show (Tuesday nights at the Cactus Moon in Tucson, check it out!!). Considering it was my last, I didn't hold back (much). After an hour and a half passed and I wasn't drunk, I amped it up, and soon I was amazing. As in, I am amazed I was able to become the person I did. I was The Drunk Guy at the club. [shudder]

I have a problem--maybe it's not the problem to which one usually refers in regards to drink, but it's a problem for me. I can drink a little, and I can drink a lot, but I cannot drink a little more than a little--which would be perfect.

And the reason is, I have a purpose, a mission. I'm not just trying to enjoy the buzz, I'm trying to get into my own head, to really be myself beyond the walls I've got up between me and the world. But rather than systematically disassembling them, I keep trying to obliterate them. I keep drinking because I'm not asking, "have I had enough?" but rather, "do you feel like yourself yet?"

The problem with that is the word "yet." Just a simple word changes the entire course of action--if I simply asked myself, "do you feel like yourself?" then I would be open to the idea that, if my answer is "no," then maybe drinking is not the correct process. "Yet" can only suggest you haven't gone down the road far enough, and does not allow that you might be on the wrong road in the first place.

I consider myself to always be tested. It's a test of mindfulness, ultimately. The thing is, there's no end to the test. That's where I lose my sight. I get in my groove, I become and remain mindful for days, weeks, months, and then I stop. I think I've got it all figured out, that it requires no effort any longer.
And that's just, very simply, incorrect. But why does it require effort?

Just as our human bodies are subject to an average of 14.696 PSI of barometric pressure, so too are our minds subject to the pressure of what Daniel Quinn refers to as Mother Culture. What I'm finding is that my thoughts are not naturally aligned with those of the culture around me. The people of my culture are living out a story that I just can't buy into and, being so immersed in this culture, I have little ground to stand on. When I fail to be mindful for just a few hours of a day, I get swept right into that story all over again. When I fail to regain my mindful position, the current seems to sweep me further and further away from Who I Am, and What I Mean.

That's where words come in. If we're all living out a story, and we're subject to the story that's being lived out around us, we would benefit from mindfulness. We can chose our words carefully, and understand the implications of the words like "yet," and "cannot," and "love," and so on. In this way, we can change the course of the current and make it go "our way." And maybe--just maybe--the test would not require so much effort.

But that doesn't just happen of course. It starts much smaller. So here I start: I will pay more attention to the questions I ask myself. I will notice when I use the word "yet," and I won't be [knock on wood, here] The Drunk guy at the bar.

Here we go again...

New stuff, so new blog. Hopefully this one's for the long haul.
Last night was, well, my last night, at the BN here in Tucson. Now I'm giving myself three days to pack (that's really being generous; if I wasn't allowed to be so lazy, I'd be done today), and then the rest of the week to get as much done on the 3rd St house as possible.

Of course, I've also got other things to do:
I've got to return things to the Himmel library. This is sad for me, because it is the quirkiest library I've ever seen. They seem to have less than half of any series of books I've looked for, and never the first book of any of them. And then the selection of individual books is... eclectic. And of course they have Hot Librarian... sigh, I will miss her.

I've got one more Metal Tuesday left... The weekly MetalHead show at Cactus Moon is the most oddly unifying experience I've had... Josh went, then I went, then Josh and I went, and I met his friend Krista, and Adrienne went, then Dawna, and Corben, and now Pam and Kara and Kristen and Krystal. I've worked with all of these people for six months, and I'm only now getting to know them, all due to the power of this 80s metal cover band.

"Lost" will return to television before I leave. That irritates me a bit, only because it reminds me a dragged my feel a couple of weeks; I thought I'd be in Seattle by now. That won't stop me from getting my "Lost" fix, though. I should get a car charger for my phone, because I'll probably spend hours talking to Mark and Scott and my father about whatever new craziness develops within that hour.

I ought to also settle things with First Tennessee; clear up my account with them (last I checked, in August, I was $200 under), so I can open up a new account. It has occurred to me that I may not find hotels to stay at on my trip, since I don't have a valid credit/debit card for them to authorize (which is ridiculously a common requirement, even when paying cash for the stay).

Last but foremost, I have to get over something ridiculous that's been going on in my head since January...