It’s in Writing; It’s Out There
I am having a love hate relationship with wine lately. It started over the summer; the endless sea of barbecues and patio meet ups were more than abundant. At first it started with a smidgen of indigestion. It can’t be the wine. It must have been “_______”. Then my sleep started getting messed up. I was waking up with insane hot flashes. And of course the first reaction is to say hmm; maybe I am starting to transition into the next phase of womanhood. My doctor assures me that it’s completely impossible. And then the lack of energy and the exhaustion start to also be signs. Which really, with two kids, two jobs, a side writing gig, and an attempt at a social life — tired seems completely legitimate. Thing is, despite the decrease in patio dates and far less gatherings, it still seems to be bothering me.
The little voice inside says, “maybe cut out wine for a bit and see if it makes you feel better”. I answer, don’t be silly, I am going to go see a professional and get to the bottom of this. So 45 minutes later, with my children bearing witness, the naturopath confirms that the two things I love most in the world, cheese and wine are determined to be stressing my body. Oddly enough, I thought coffee would be on the list, too. Or maybe I was hoping it was coffee and not my beloved wine.
So now what? I’ve sat on the results and mused over them, and then up comes a weekend of gatherings and celebrations and of course there is an abundance of wine and cheese. And I get to thinking, despite really knowing in the summer that wine and I needed to take a break, I rationalized it by saying I’d do it after summer. There were too many social commitments to attend. Then I found myself saying, well no point in stopping before Thanksgiving. At this rate, there is always going to be a something. But I am tired now, I am restless now, I have heartburn now.
To be clear, the wine is reserved for weekends. I am not concerned that I have a problem with drinking. I am concerned though that I have a problem with pushing back on the social norms that have been set in the circles in which I run. I have attempted to refuse a drink, “Oh it doesn’t make me feel good” or “I am off wine for a bit”. It’s met with a lot of push-back. “Oh come on it’s the weekend, let loose” or “you’ve earned a break”. And at first sip, there’s a relaxation, but then the heartburn starts. And then the little voice inside is saying “hey you, wake up! Your body is having trouble with this.” Oh yes, this little voice. I should listen, I should tune in. Especially as I find the effects of the wine lasting for days after — even after just one glass. It’s easier to say, “I can’t right now, I am pregnant”. Easy is good. People respect that boundary, pregnancy. Now, at that time that I had no choice but to honour my body; I slept when I needed to; I ate healthy (for the most part); and I made a conscious effort to move my body. Wine was never even a thought. I mean really it’s a mere nine months and completely worth it to grow a miracle that was depending on me. I had to give that miracle the best chance at life. Light-bulb moment! I need to focus on growing my miracle! I want to expand my healing practice. I have been planting the seeds of intention for this for a while and I keep wondering what’s keeping it from showing up. What’s the hold up? The answer comes easily and this time I am listening. That little voice says, “A healthy body”.
I am religious with working on my breathing and meditation. I am working super hard in my Yoga practice. And yet my body still sends me signs. I am brilliant at picking up on those signs and nuances for my clients. The irony is that I seem to dismiss that inner knowing, that little voice, when it comes to me. After all, wine and I have been together a long time. Way back as part of Sunday dinners with my French Canadian family. Like the French, wine is a natural part of a meal you share with others. It’s been there to help celebrate and to help soothe wounds. It’s like a relationship that has come to an end, but then you’ve only ever known life with that relationship. It’s scary to evaluate a lifelong relationship to assess if it is really serving me. In this case I know, “we need a break”. We need to be independent of one another to remember who we are in the first place.
From the lens of self-care and “it’s just a break”, off I fly outside of my comfort zone: wine free for eight weeks, as prescribed. And with all of you as my witnesses. Yes. It’s in writing. It’s out there. I am pregnant, figuratively speaking. I am excited to sleep, I am excited to feel my energy rebound and I am excited for the other side benefits that inevitably will come from my act of self-love.