Whispering Wyrd

Something I have found since getting clean and something I now practice every single day is gratitude. Please don’t think I say that lightly either. Gratitude has really changed my life in ways I never could have expected or imagined.

In my younger years, especially during active alcoholism and addiction, I didn’t feel grateful for much at all and I certainly didn’t practice it. Life felt really heavy and most days I was just trying to get through. To survive. Gratitude wasn’t even on my radar back then.

Now, though, it’s the first thing I reach for each day. Every morning, before I do anything else, I sit up in bed, place both feet flat on the floor, bring my palms together, and chant a short prayer of gratitude. It sets the tone for everything that follows. Even on the mornings after those terrible nightmares I’ve talked about, the ones that leave me feeling off before the day even begins, this simple act helps steady me. It doesn’t erase everything, but it definitely softens the edges a lot. It gives me a place to stand, so to speak.

And then I go outside.

Every day, without exception, I go out and look at the mountains. Rain, snow, cold, or heat, it doesn’t matter. I look at them and remind myself that I am here. That I am home and I am exactly where I belong. That moment grounds me, it brings me back to something real, something tangible. Especially after a hard night, it helps me begin again.

Over time gratitude has opened the door to other kinds of healing too.

I’ve learned the importance of honesty, not just with others, but with myself. Real honesty. The kind that doesn’t hide from the past or pretend to believe something others believe just to keep the peace. Being honest about who I am, what I’ve been through, and what I truly believe has been deeply healing for me. There’s a kind of freedom in that honesty that I didn’t even realize I was missing. For me, allowing myself to be open about my spiritual path has been just as powerful as getting off benzos. That may sound strange to some people, but if you’ve ever had to hide a really important part of yourself just to be accepted, you know exactly what I mean.

I’ve also learned to take better care of this body I live in. Eating better and moving more. Practicing Qigong. These aren’t just “healthy habits”, they’re acts of respect toward and for myself. I used to hear my dad say, “If I’d known I was going to live this long, I would’ve taken better care of myself.” I understand that now better than ever. So I’m trying to do just that.

Recovery has also taught me something else that’s really important… this journey is mine.

No one else gets to define it. No one else gets to judge it, especially people who’ve never walked through addiction or trauma. Just like their path is their own, mine belongs to me. That realization has been freeing in a way that’s hard to describe in words.

Along these same lines, I’ve come to understand something I used to hear all the time, other people’s opinions of you are none of your business. Really letting that sink in and deeply understanding it has been really liberating. I don’t have to carry what others think of me. I don’t have to live inside their judgments. And that includes family!

Being “family” doesn’t give anyone a free pass to treat you with unkindness or disrespect. If someone in your family treats strangers better than they treat you, it’s OK to have boundaries. It’s OK to step back from them or even cut them out of your life entirely. Healing sometimes means learning who is safe to allow to stay in your life and who isn’t.

But maybe the most important change of all has been how I treat myself.

I used to be my own worst enemy. The way I spoke to myself, the constant criticism, the harshness, was nothing short of cruelty. I don’t live like that anymore. I don’t allow that voice to run unchecked, and I don’t accept that kind of treatment from others either. I’m learning, day by day, to treat myself with the same kindness I try to offer the world.

I’ve done a lot of healing over these past few years. And I’m proud of that.

More than anything, I’m grateful I survived. I share these things openly because I know what it’s like to feel trapped, controlled by substances and weighed down by hopelessness. I also know that recovery is possible. Not just getting off a substance, but rebuilding a life. Learning new and healthier ways to live. Choosing healthier paths, one step at a time.

If you’re going through it right now, whether you’re just starting or somewhere in the middle, I hope something here reminds you that you’re not alone, healing is real, and it’s OK to begin again, as many times as you need.

Amituofo
~Buck