Last weekend we went to a concert . Our local philharmonic was playing, featuring the music of Elton John. His music comprised a huge chunk of the soundtrack of my youth. One of the first songs they played was “Daniel.” Admittedly, it’s a sad song – and I felt the tears start to well during the opening notes. I was overwhelmed by a wave of nostalgia and regret and gratitude.
The nostalgia piece is probably obvious…. I spent hours as a young teenager, sitting cross-legged on the floor of my bedroom in front of the record player listening to “Madman Across the Water” and “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.” Memorized the lyrics written inside the album cover, singing along with every song. It brought back memories of the girl I was, with my entire life ahead of me. I’m at a point in my life where there’s more of my life behind me than in front of me, and I guess I’m getting nostalgic in my old age.
And I had one of those “time-removed-from-time” moments: when you step outside of yourself and view your circumstances with such clarity and perspective that it feels almost other-worldly. I was so acutely aware of how the old, pre-sobriety me would have most likely approached an evening out like this one. I would have suggested dinner out first – most likely with a cocktail first, and then wine with the main course. The concert hall had several bars set up – I would have insisted that we wait in line to purchase overpriced glasses of wine to sip either before the concert or during the intermission. Then I would have been a little “itchy” as the evening wore on, anxious to get home and have even more drinks. Because it’s the weekend. And a special occasion, of course.
And finally, the gratitude that washed over me was all-encompassing. Almost overwhelming. It occurred to me that I was absolutely present and living in the moment – loving every second of the concert and so gloriously, acutely aware that this new way of life is a gift and a blessing.
I was struck by this feeling that I’d been asleep for so long, focusing too often on the wrong things – and I’ve spent the better part of the past 20 months honing in on how to create a new life for myself. Without a trap door or escape hatch. I’m just now fully waking up and appreciating the gifts that have been right in front of me for so long.
This sober life, that I was so terrified of – is so completely amazing.