“You could leave life now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.” --Marcus Aurelius

How paradoxical life can be.  We are resilient and fragile.  Sometimes, we are reckless despite our mortality.  Other times, we freeze in fear when survival compels that we flee.  Marcus Aurelius used as a guiding principles for right actions, words, and thoughts that any of them could be his last.  

If you knew you had only moments to live, what would you do?

Who would you try to contact?

What would you say?

Those questions force us to consider what is most dear and important to us and to live our lives in recognition of that constantly.  “Tomorrow is promised for no one,” you’ve likely heard before.  Do you believe it, Dear Reader?  Has it struck you yet that you have no guarantee of waking up tomorrow?  Do you realize yet that tonight’s sunset could be your last?

Yes, these thoughts can be morbid, but they are necessary, not to scare us into paralyzed fear of our undeniable mortality, but to celebrate it.  “Memento Mori,” you’ll see many times if you start reading Stoic texts.  It means, “Remember that you will die.”  Morbid?  Maybe.  But don’t think of it that way.  Remember instead that our time in life on this earth is precious.  We don’t know how much of it we have and so we should take every opportunity to enjoy it and to uplift those around us so they can better enjoy it too.

Where does alcoholism/addiction play into this?  Fair question.  Addiction robs us of the ability to truly appreciate the beauty of the world around us.  I know that I wasn’t stopping to smell the roses while I was active in my addiction.  I wasn’t taking pictures of beautiful landscapes, walking trails, paying attention to the birds, or going out of my way not to step on beetles.  I didn’t care.  I was blind to the wonders of nature and the world around me.  

I wasn’t appreciating my friends and family.  If they were going along with how I wanted things to go, then great.  If not, they made me irritable.  I didn’t care for my car, my career, or any of the other things I had that many people would have been happy to have.  I didn’t want more.  I wasn’t greedy.  I was just addicted and shut off from things that should have given me pleasure and gratitude.

In sobriety, I have found a greater appreciation for things I already had.  I love my family and treat them with greater understanding and patience.  I recognize the things in my life for which I should have gratitude.  I notice the sunshine.  I relish a cool breeze.  I’ve developed a deep appreciation for nature and simple things that I think you get when you’ve been granted a reprieve from a course of self-destruction.  Each day in sobriety is a new opportunity to appreciate the grandeur of the simple things in life.  It’s also an opportunity to refine my character with deeds, thoughts, and words that are of service to my family, friends, and fellows.

I do try to live in recognition that all of it can be snatched away in the blink of an eye because it can.  My life in sobriety is my second chance.  I’ve been resurrected into my own shoes to live out what’s afforded me in grateful appreciation of a world that could have moved on without me.  I hope you will too.