Tagged with experiment

Day 44: I Love J.C. and the Hero’s Journey.

Yesterday was Day 44 of my year of living sober.

It was a Saturday—Christmas Eve.

My daughter chooses Joseph Campbell.

On Christmas Eve I took this photo of my daughter, Honey Rose. You can see at the bottom of the frame a copy of one of Joseph Campbell’s books. Honey often takes other books by other authors out of my less and less well-ordered shelf but she seems particularly drawn to Campbell, much in the same way I was some twenty-odd years ago: repeatedly.

The book Honey most often carefully places on the floor, at the feet of my swivel desk chair, is Pathways To Bliss, a gift from my wife for my birthday two years ago. Pathways To Bliss has a few dog ears but is by no means as well read as my copy of Campbell’s perhaps most famous work, The Hero With A Thousand Faces.

But J.C. is not only one of my favourite authors he is also one of my favourite speakers. Thanks to The Power of Myth television interviews he did with Bill Moyers I have been able to enjoy Campbell’s eloquence directly from the comparative mythologists mouth. Well, almost directly.

One famous saying attributed to Campbell is “follow your bliss” and whether we know it or not, Campbell has either directly or indirectly influenced most people alive today; if you’ve ever heard of a movie called Star Wars you have benefited from some of Campbell’s work, lifetime study and investigation into the reoccurring themes expressed across cultures in myth and religion.

Campbell knew better than anyone how the religions and mythologies of diverse people’s all share symbols of sometimes varying appearance but always relatable—often identical—meaning; the names in our stories may change but the path we tread from birth to death is greatly shared.

Campbell focussed a great deal on something he described as ‘the Hero’s Journey’. He was fascinated by the stages any individual encounters when making a major change or encountering an unexpected life-challenge. While I have not yet mapped out what I might expect with the rest of my Year Of Living Sober, I imagine I will be able to identify the stages Campbell first described in his seminal (always wanted to use that word) book, The Hero With a Thousand Faces.

The ‘Hero’s Journey’ of a man choosing not to drink for a year might include these basic stages inspired by Campbell’s analysis:

1) Normal World: In which a man thought nothing of drinking alcohol everyday. Generally not to the point of wild drunkenness but more than he knew was healthy.

2) Departure: After a series of excruciating migraines this man begins thinking it is time to make a change in his drinking habits. After an especially painful post-wedding (not his own, fortunately) bout of heavy drinking,  and the subsequent blinding migraine, he vows to go a full year without drinking alcohol

3) Initiation:  The man’s resolve is tested by everything from seasonal celebrations (Christmas/New Years) to the temptation to mark the birth of his second child with a single glass of Champagne. Other challenges come from within, when the would be hero doubts his own intentions, citing his need to keep a public blog about his endeavour as proof of his own egomania and narcissistic tendency. Searching within for the part of his self which embraces change and fears not judgement from the world, the hero continues on his adventure with the aid of helpful allies (his wife; his parents-in-law; a few understanding friends) and reaches his goal of 365 days without a stiff drink.

4) Return: Having accomplished his goal, the hero learns that it was only part of what the universe had conspired to ‘teach’ him; living now with the realization life can be more than a pint of cold beer with mates, or a bottle of wine alone with a David Lynch DVD, the hero brings a new moderation to his ‘new’ normal life, secure in the knowledge when it comes to booze he can take it or leave it: the important thing is he knows he always has a choice, and one he has the self-discipline to employ.

Campbell broke the hero’s journey down into more stages than these four but hopefully this gives a basic idea of what he was on about.

After Campbell, Christopher Vogler continued helping writers like me (and anyone interested in the art of great storytelling) to understand the nuances of mythic structure, in his book ‘The Writer’s Journey’. If you are lucky enough to get anything by Campbell or a copy of Vogler’s book this Christmas, and you know nothing of either’s work, you are in for a real treat.

And some kind of journey.

Merry Christmas!

My name is Ben and I’m a social experiment.

Little Booze Joke 44:

A one-eyed monster walks into a bar and the barman says, “Eye.”

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Day 43: Christmas Eve Cheers from Sam Malone

Yesterday was Day 43 of my year of living sober.

It was a Friday—Friday 23rd December 2011, to be precise. Which makes today the 24th December—Christmas Eve.

How young does Woody look?

So close to Christmas I’ve been thinking about how millions of people will enjoy a glass of bubbly or some creamy eggnog or something else festive during this holiday season. But since I won’t be joining in I kind of feel a bit…alone.

Even though I know I won’t be alone in choosing sobriety over sloshiness this year, I feel like Sam Malone, Ted Danson’s character in Cheers. I feel like the alcoholic barman who, knowing his weakness and tendency for over-indulgence chooses to serve others alcohol without serving a drop for himself.

Watching Cheers as a youngster I remember admiring Sam a lot—and not only for his good sense of humour, his love of life and his (frustratingly to Shelley Long’s ‘Diane’) great success with woman. No, I also liked Sam because he was like Clint Eastwood: he knew his limitations.

My limitation is self-imposed. But unlike Sam, who swore off the liquor for good (forever), I’ve decided to go just one year without drinking alcohol. So however hot it gets in Melbourne on Chrissy day I won’t be having even a single beer.

In my Year Of Living Sober not even a fantastical transportation down the stairs of that famous Boston fictional bar would be enough to tempt me.*

“Nothing for me Sam,” I’d say. “I’m on a YOLS.”

“Cheers Ben!” Sam would reply. “How ’bout a club soda?”

We just call it ‘soda water’ in Australia but I’d still know what Sam meant and would gratefully accept his suggestive sell.

“Cheers Sam.”

And for everyone who is drinking this year, please have one for me.

Merry Christmas Eve!

My name is Ben and I’m a social experiment.

Little Booze Joke 43:

A flashing pedestrian sign walks into a bar and the barman says, “Keep walking.”

* Back when I was acting the closest I got to a Cheers appearance was when I met Norm (George Wendt) on the set of a London television show (Noel’s House Party Christmas special 1993′ish). Unfortunately for my ego George didn’t watch Neighbours, the Australian soap which had made me briefly famous enough to do pantomime in England, but he did shake my hand. That’s one degree of separation from Sam Malone himself!

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Day 42: Not a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster In Sight

Yesterday was Day 42 of my year of living sober.

A hitchhiker's guide to everything. Really.

It was a Thursday. I spent a good part of Thursday putting books my baby girl removes from my shelf back.

One of the seemingly selected books Honey Rose delights in re-shelving on my study floor is Douglas Adams’ The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and, having made it to the magic Day 42, I decided the universe (or at least Honey Rose) was trying to tell me something.

“Congratulations Daddy. You have made it to the day of the BIG answer.”

Because as anyone who’s read The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy will know: the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything is simply 42.

Now that I’ve gone the magic 42 days without a drink does that mean I suddenly have perfect clarity, understand everything and have no more questions about the meaning of life? Nup. No way. But reaching this milestone did remind me why I chose 42 as my number when I played basketball as a kid.

It was fun. Just like my Year Of Living Sober.

Forty-two also happens to be my age as of writing this. And though I’m not sure whether I read THHGTTG before I started drinking or not I do know that even if some things change over time (like me not drinking for a WHOLE YEAR), some things stay the same.

The answer is still 42.

Now, in dedication to the man who was directly responsible for my parents having to buy four iron-on stiff felt letters (two small ones for the front of my b’ball singlet; two big ones for the back), here is the recipe from THHGTTG (in Chapter Two) for a very stiff drink: the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.

The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy also mentions alcohol. It says that the best drink in existence is the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster. It says that the effect of a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster is like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick.

The Guide also tells you on which planets the best Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters are mixed, how much you can expect to pay for one and what voluntary organizations exist to help you rehabilitate afterwards.

The Guide even tells you how you can mix one yourself.

Take the juice from one bottle of that Ol’ Janx Spirit, it says. Pour into it one measure of water from the seas of Santraginus V – Oh that Santraginean sea water, it says. Oh those Santraginean fish!!!

Allow three cubes of Arcturan Mega-gin to melt into the mixture (it must be properly iced or the benzine is lost). Allow four litres of Fallian marsh gas to bubble through it, in memory of all those happy Hikers who have died of pleasure in the Marshes of Fallia.

Over the back of a silver spoon float a measure of Qualactin Hypermint extract, redolent of all the heady odours of the dark Qualactin Zones, subtle sweet and mystic. Drop in the tooth of an Algolian Suntiger. Watch it dissolve, spreading the fires of the Algolian Suns deep into the heart of the drink.

Sprinkle Zamphuor.

Add an olive.

Drink… but… very carefully…

My name is Ben and I’m a social experiment.

Little Booze Joke 42:

An inter-galactic traveller walks into a bar and the barman says, “Sorry, we don’t serve aliens here,” and the inter-galactic traveller says, “O feddled gruntbuggly thy micturations are to me as plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee.”

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Day 41: Knock Off Danger Time For Boozin’

Yesterday was Day 41 of my year of living sober.

Merry Christmas Tree at Melbourne's Joy FM

It was a Wednesday. Being self-employed/freelance I write pretty much everyday and take each day—and opportunity—as it comes. Yesterday turned out to be one of my busiest days in ages and involved a range of ‘business’ activities from website maintenance and upgrading to a radio interview on Melbourne’s Joy FM.

Doing a transfer from wordpress hosted to self-hosted blogging almost did my head in, but eventually I got there. There’s still a lot to learn but I’ll take each plug-in at a time and try and remain patient with my technological limitations (of which there are many).

Having been an actor in a former life, I still get the odd call from a casting agent seeing if I’d like to come in for a Television commercial audition. With one sixteen-month-old baby girl and another Mitchell offspring due any day now I definitely DID want to come in yesterday for an interview with the lovely casting girls at Chameleon Casting for a potato crisp (we used to call them chips in Oz) commercial which would pay more than I earn by selling approximately 1000 copies of my debut novel (which came out in April in Australia this year).

Then, after driving across town for the audition, I headed into the city to try and find a parking space close to Joy FM headquarters. After doing a few laps of the CBD I opted for a safe all day park (to avoid any damn parking fine) which required me to walk a bit further than I’d planned but gave me peace of mind that apart from a cheap won-ton soup in Little China Town, petrol would be my only expense for the day.

The point of this journal-like entry is by the time I got home I was bushed (as an old fogie might say). Being bushed—both mentally and physically—I would have loved a drink. Jeez, I would have killed for a drink! I really wanted a beer, then another, then some wine.

But I didn’t. Despite my mental craving I wasn’t really tempted to throw in the YOLS towel. I just had to frown and bare it, realizing yesterday that the hours between 5pm and 7pm are turning out to be the ‘danger’ period for me. This was when I used to turn to the bottle to ‘turn-off’ from my day’s work. Now I turn to ice-cream or, as I did last night, some left-over mud cake.

Sure, it’s not ideal to replace booze with sugar but at least I’m trying something different. Even if it is just alternating Peppermint with Rocky Road and throwing in the odd Cheesecake Shop special.

My name is Ben and I’m a social experiment.

Little Booze Joke 41:

How many workaholics does it take to change a lightbulb?

One. He can do everything.

PS. Check out Day 10 for a post about fellow workaholics Mark Zuckerberg and Donald Trump

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Day 40: Forty Days and Forty Nights…DRY!

Yesterday was Day 40 of my year of living sober. 

It was a Tuesday. I didn’t have a drink all day.

Well, okay, I had some water, a soy Latte, a cup of Earl Grey tea, a Bundaberg Ginger beer and a ‘near beer’ non-alcoholic Coopers Birrell—but apart from that, nothing. No booze; just like the previous 40 days and 40 nights.

For 40 days now I have been in a dry desert of my own making.

Have I been tempted to give up on my goal of going 365 days without drinking alcohol? Actually, no. While I have had cravings, and a few moments where I would have LOVED a glass bottle of wine, mostly I’ve been fine. And, as strange as it might sound, focussing on not drinking has helped me focus on other things rather than myself. How? I’m glad you asked.

With this blog I made a public declaration about my goal which helped kind of lock me into keeping my word. Also, blogging about my Year Of Living Sober has given me something else to do with my hands rather than pop open beer stubbies and unscrew wine bottle caps. Plus, by writing about the journey a big drinker takes when he decides to travel through a year without alcohol, I thought it might offer an alternative viewpoint to the all-or-nothing route many successfully take when leaving alcohol behind.

“Maybe there’s another option than giving up forever,” I thought. “Why not start with taking a break from booze for a year? See where it goes from there.”

So far I’ve learnt lots of cool things, one of which is there are more people like me who have thought about giving up alcohol for a year. I know because a few kind bloggers have already left positive, encouraging comments. What’s more the phrase ‘giving up alcohol for a year’ has popped up in my search engine search terms a couple of times at least.

Now, rather than simply a journal of my own experience, I’m thinking more about how Year Of Living Sober can be a service to other people who might be considering going the whole hog of a year off the booze. I’ve already got a list of reasons one might try going 12 months without boozing, I’ve explored how alcohol occurs naturally in fruit (go easy on those over ripe banana’s man!) and shared a little about how one of my favourite writers, Raymond Carver, gave up alcohol on my birthday (2nd June).

Maybe the kind of stuff I post about here at YOLS will be interesting to anyone trying to inspire themselves to give up—or distract themselves from the cravings? Though I’m not sure if there’ll be many drinkers thinking about giving up alcohol BEFORE Christmas and the New Year. Maybe AFTER it’ll be  a different story?

I’ll let you know.

My name is Ben and I’m a social experiment.

Little Booze Joke 40:

Jesus walks into a bar and the barman says, “Jesus!” and Jesus says, “Yeah?”

PS. If you’re wondering why someone would want to go a year without tasting the sweet fermented grape juice or the malty, bubbly amber BBQ juice, take a look at 10 Reasons To Give Up Alcohol For A Year

 

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Day 39: Alcohol in Juice and Bananas and…?

Yesterday was Day 39 of my year of living sober.

It was a Monday.

There's at least 3 'shots' in here.

For most of the day I was thinking about how much alcohol is in orange juice.

It might seem a bit strange but I found out over the weekend that even something as seemingly benign as a glass of OJ may contain approximately .5% alcohol. Since the yeasts and bacteria that work on the sweet citrus juice thrive under slightly warmer temperatures, this percentage can be even higher if the OJ is left out of the fridge.

Perhaps the fructose rich breakfast drinks don’t have to be labelled as .5% alcohol since this is the same amount set (by American food officials; I haven’t been able to successfully google the Australian legal standards) as the limit for ‘non-alcoholic’ drinks which can be sold in supermarkets, grocery stores and 7-11′s et al.

My discovery about alcohol in OJ on the weekend coincided with my realisation the ‘alcohol-free’ beer I occasionally drink actually has .5% alcohol too. My father-in-law (who gave up drinking years ago) sometimes buys a six-pack of the Birrell ‘near beer’ made by Coopers and I took to it when I did a month-off booze a couple of years ago.

Soon I became a fan of Birell, using it to replace my ‘normal’ beer.

Over the last 39 days I’ve probably had about 8 stubbies of what I’d allowed myself to believe was alcohol-free. But it wasn’t. Not completely. Now I feel a bit like an alcoholic who’s accidentally bitten into a liqueur filled chocolate. I feel dirty. When I found out (or faced up to) the facts about Birell my first impulse was to spit all that .5% ‘near beer’ out. But I didn’t—I couldn’t.

Being on my Year Of Living Sober, and having taken a personal pledge (no swearing on a Bible or anything resembling a ceremony involved) not to drink alcohol for 365 days, I was disappointed finding out I hadn’t been as ‘pure’ as I thought I had. But before I self-sabotaged my YOLS I had to think this whole thing through a bit more.

Why give up on my social experiment of not drinking alcohol just because some may have slipped in there? Besides, isn’t there some alcohol in some food? What about fruit-cake? In the lead up to Christmas I’ve had a couple of mince-pies at the local bakery. Did they have trace elements of booze in them too?

“Get a hold of your obsessively compulsive self, Mitchell!” I thought. “Don’t throw the strawberry’s out with the Cointreau.”

Anyway, I decided, what I’ve committed to is refraining from beer, wine, spirits and any ‘normal’ alcoholic beverage, in order to break my habit of nightly drinking. Rum balls weren’t my problem. My problem was habitually drinking full-strength beer and full-strength wine.

I’m not worried about cough lollies.

From the little research I’ve done online it seems alcohol is also produced by yeast fermenting the sugar in flour during bread baking. And, at 35% alcohol volume, the vanilla essence in our pantry is more alcoholic than some whiskeys.

Even banana’s become ‘alcoholic’ if left in the school bag too long.

What’s more supposedly the body can process .5% drinks as quickly as it absorbs them. It’s no wonder I’ve felt no effects from the Birell. Also, since alcohol occurs naturally in the body, I can’t very well escape it completely.

What this all boils down to is I am continuing my Year Of Living Sober, safe in the knowledge I haven’t yet had a single ‘drink’. This ambiguity around what actually constitutes an alcoholic drink might also be the catalyst for me to put up a new page on this blog, citing the alcohol content of various products in case anyone else wants to know where the line in the sand is for drink/not-a-drink.

If you swallow enough, even mouthwash can get you drunk. Luckily, though I brush my teeth (semi-regularly) I don’t often gurgle anymore.

Guess, that’s one less temptation!

My name is Ben and I’m a social experiment.

Little Booze Joke 39:

Jack Daniels walks into a bar and the barman says, “Sorry Jack, we don’t serve you here.”

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Day 38: Soberly Into A New Domain

Yesterday was Day 38 of my year of living sober.

It was a Sunday.

I didn’t have a hangover but I did feel a little groggy. Maybe it had something to do with the big bowl of Rocky Road ice-cream I had before going to bed the night before? Isn’t processing sugar supposed to affect you in a similar way to processing alcohol? Whatever. All I know is after an early morning walk along the river with my pregnant wife and 16-month-old girl I felt a lot better.

No doubt the strong soy-macchiato at the bakery helped.

When I got home I did my YOLS blog and then committed further to this exercise in discipline and change by purchasing a wordpress add on: I bought the domain name ‘www.yearoflivingsober.com’.

As it goes I’m not averse to buying the odd domain name and have owned a few in my time. The ones I currently own include:

www.benjamingrantmitchell.com (which I update often with links to media like a recent video from a TV appearance promoting my first novel, The Last Great Day)

www.ben-mitchell.com (which, since this url is printed on the artwork, is the site anyone who purchased my 2006 CD, The Stars Can See might first key in)

www.yisyot.com (inspired by a novel I have in the works)

www.zippin-pippin.com (another novel at second draft stage, this one a comedy/romance/road-movie set in America)

www.thelastgreatday.com (which links to my website and may one day link to a page dedicated to my first novel of the same name)

As you can see I already had a few domains going before getting yearoflivingsober.com. Now I’ve got one more. I’m not sure if it was just because I was hang-over free which enabled me to be so productive yesterday (and on the weekend!) but I’ve got a feeling it helped. Plus the $25 I spent on www.yearoflivingsober.com is about what I’d normally spend on a bottle of wine to finish the weekend with, so my former ‘drinking money’ has been invested in something which might live on even after this year is over.

That’s gotta be good too don’t it?

Before I hit the sack last night, the last thing I watched on tele was a special on comedian Bill Hicks. I couldn’t help but take extra note of how former colleagues, friends and family all concurred that Bill really came into his own—he finally found his true voice—when he kicked his drinking habit. Although both were tragically cut short, his career and life really took off when he stopped boozin’.

I guess, when  you’re ready for it, a lot of good can come from making a change.

My name is Ben and I’m a social experiment.

Little Booze Joke 38:

Politically outspoken and philosophical comedian Bill Hicks walks into a bar. The barman says, ‘Hey, Bill want me to make you one with everything?” and Bill says, “No thanks. I already am.”

PS. I’ve got a facebook page too: www.facebook.com/benjamingrantmitchell.writer. Do drop by.

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Day 37: Weekend unwinding from writing and drinking

Yesterday was Day 37 of my year of living sober.

It was a Saturday.

I think I miss drinking alcohol most on Saturdays. It’s the day I normally hang loose and break free from my weekly routine of disciplined writing. Getting a bit—or a lot—tanked on the weekend used to be the norm for me.

Though I write everyday, most of my work generally falls into the Mon-Fri scheme of things and with a busier house on the weekend I tend to be interrupted from whatever opus I’m currently working on more often than during the week. Drinking used to be a way to welcome the interruption; the weekend isn’t quite a writing right-off for me but I probably do a little less work and a little more play.

Up until 37 days ago ‘playing’ always involved drinking.

During the week I’d normally pop my first beer around 6pm and, after drinking one or two more, open a bottle of wine as I prepared dinner. By dishes time I’d still be going, normally finishing up said bottle (of Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot or sometimes something white) by about 9 or 10pm.

On Saturdays my first beer often occurred earlier, like anytime after about 2pm (unless out at a BBQ, in which case a 12.01pm beer is perfectly acceptable), and I might drink more. Actually it’s likely I would drink more. Very likely.

But not anymore. And not for another 328 days. That’s how long I’ve got left on my Year Of Living Sober: forty-six more Saturdays!

But at least I’m over one-tenth of the way.

My name is Ben and I’m a social experiment.

Little Booze Joke 37:

A skeleton walks into a bar and says, “I’d like a beer and a mop.”

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Day 36: How To Name Your Blog In 3 Easy Sober Steps

Yesterday was Day 36 of my year of living sober.

It was a Friday. I spent some of Friday writing and some of it setting up a new Facebook page for my collected writings. I also did my daily YOLS blog just as I am doing it today.

And all this without a hangover.

Following a theme that has emerged over the last couple of days (longer?) I am still cleaning out my study/office/creative-space (I don’t want to limit my working environment with a ‘label’, like) and found this scrap of paper which shows part of my process for deciding on something as simple as the name of my latest blog.

So, here it is. My version of…

HOW TO NAME YOUR BLOG:

1. Decide on the theme of your blog.

It helps if you have a blog with a narrow—perhaps a better word is ‘focussed’—theme. In my case, taking a year off drinking alcohol and blogging every day something related to that journey is a pretty focussed theme.

2. Brainstorm around the theme.

Think about any catchy (possibly wacky/zany/irreverent) associated words which incorporate the theme.

AKA a 'Soberlog'

3. Follow your intuition and choose a name for your blog that isn’t already being used.

Blogging is becoming more popular every day so I make sure to do a google on any new blog I might be thinking about starting. Luckily, there wasn’t another Year Of Living Sober going so it was free for the taking. So I took it.

Here’s a list of other possible names that helped me get to YOLS. I think my favourite is ‘Spew No More’ but ‘Are You On Antibiotics?’ is also pretty good (you know, as in what somebody says when they are shocked at their former drinking friend declining a drink).

The other names I chose not were:

Boozefree

BoozeHound

YouCanHaveOneCan’tYou?

OnTheWagon

You’reNotAnAlcoholic

WinoBeGone

My name is Ben and I’m a social experiment.

Little Booze Joke 36:
A Chicken Parmigiana walks into a bar and the barman says, “I’m sorry but we don’t serve food here.”
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Day 35: Collectible Clean Out

Yesterday was Day 35 of my year of living sober.

It was a Thursday. I spent most of it cleaning my study. Being someone who finds value and inspiration in almost anything (why else would I keep a print-off of a flight confirmation form for a holiday across America 3 years ago?) I have  a tendency to collect a lot of…well, junk.

Besides long outdated travel itineraries my junk consists of various items including (but in no way limited to): old phone/computer leads I don’t use BUT MIGHT NEED ONE DAY, novelty/souvenir hats I never wear BUT MIGHT NEED ONE DAY and stacks of business cards from people I met once seven years ago, did no business with BUT MIGHT NEED ONE DAY.

That’s my problem: I think I MIGHT NEED ONE DAY lots of stuff that simply ends up clogging up my drawers. I’m also sentimental and very nostalgic. Until yesterday I’d kept a worn out piece of paper (the shape of a bookmark—but not as sturdy) folded up in my wallet for almost 20 years. This precious item was a hurriedly scrawled reading of my astronomical chart done for me by a co-worker back when I was selling movie tickets at an arthouse cinema in Melbourne.

And like the food diary from my successful diet a couple of years ago I wasn’t ready to part with the record of how the moon was in Capricorn and Mercury was in Gemini when I was born.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday I chucked a heap o’ stuff including the scraps of paper that had meant so much to me.

Can this newfound resolve to let go of my nostalgic keepings be attributed to my sobriety? Possibly. Though, even before my YOLS I have sporadically engaged in these type of clean-outs many times before. But something about yesterday’s one was different; yesterday I felt like I was letting go of more than old physical junk: there was an emotional release too.

How ‘New Age’ of me, hey?

Anyway, my desk is clear now and the bookshelf behind me is no longer stacked beyond capacity. Today, I’ve got room to move, to think and to create. Plus, thanks to my iPhone camera I’ve also got digital representations of things I’d previously found most hard-to-part-with; after taking a photo of it, I was happy to toss away a rubber heal-tag that had come off one of my favourite cowboy boots about two years ago.

It’s amazing what you can live without!

My name is Ben and I’m a social experiment.

Little Booze Joke 35:

A hamburger walks into a bar and the barman says, “I’m sorry but we don’t serve food here.”

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