Life Is Life: What Are You Really Chasing?

When people learn that I'm sober, they usually assume my story is about alcohol.

They're right.

But only partly.

Alcohol is part of my story. It isn't the point of my story.

I loved alcohol.

Not just drinking it—I genuinely loved it. I loved craft beer. I loved visiting breweries. I loved talking about beer, tasting new beers, and sharing one with friends while watching football. For a long time, alcohol brought something positive into my life.

That's what makes this story honest.

Alcohol didn't enter my life as the enemy. It entered my life as something I enjoyed.

Then life happened.

It always does.

My first marriage ended. My children moved out. I found myself sitting alone in a house that had become painfully quiet. I've often said the silence in that house was louder than any noise I'd ever heard.

Somewhere along the way, alcohol changed jobs.

It stopped being something I enjoyed and became somewhere I went.

When I felt lonely, I drank.

When I wanted to celebrate, I drank.

When I wanted to relax, I drank.

When I didn't know what I was feeling, I drank.

Looking back now, I don't think I was chasing alcohol.

I think I was chasing relief.

For a while, alcohol gave me exactly what I wanted. It quieted my mind. It softened difficult emotions. It gave me permission to forget—at least until the next morning.

The problem wasn't that it worked.

The problem was that it only worked temporarily.

Temporary relief has a way of asking for more.

More tomorrow.

More next weekend.

More after work.

Until one day you realize the thing you believed you were controlling has quietly begun controlling you.

It became an escape that I couldn't escape from.

But here's where I think my story stops being about alcohol.

Because I don't believe alcohol is the only thing people use to find relief.

Some people disappear into work.

Some chase perfection.

Some stay constantly busy because stillness feels uncomfortable.

Some scroll their phones instead of sitting with difficult thoughts.

Some lash out in anger.

Some avoid conflict at all costs.

Some fire off an email before taking a breath.

Some say yes because they don't want to disappoint someone.

Others say no because fear has convinced them not to try.

Different behaviors.

Same human experience.

We're all trying to manage what we're feeling.

For years, I thought my problem was alcohol.

Sobriety taught me that alcohol was only one chapter of a much bigger story.

The bigger story was this:

Who—or what—is making my decisions?

That question has changed my life.

Because I've learned that emotions don't have to be negative to lead us somewhere we didn't intend to go.

Fear can make decisions.

Anger can make decisions.

Loneliness can make decisions.

But so can excitement.

So can happiness.

So can confidence.

Think about the last time you sent an email you later wished you'd rewritten.

Or committed to something because you were excited, only to realize later you hadn't thought it through.

We've all been there.

The emotion wasn't wrong.

It just got to the decision before we did.

That's why I believe one of the greatest skills we can develop isn't suppressing our emotions.

It's creating enough space so they don't become our decision-makers.

For me, that space became what I now call The Power Of The Pause.

Not because the pause makes life easier.

Life is still life.

It still brings joy and heartbreak.

Success and disappointment.

Certainty and uncertainty.

The pause simply reminds me that while I can't always choose what I feel...

I can choose what I do next.

And that one realization changed far more than my relationship with alcohol.

It changed my relationship with life.