At the time I'm writing this, it's early on a Sunday morning, the sun is coming up and glowing orange under the clouds on the horizon in the distance and I'm drinking a delicately flavoured, steaming cup of lemon, ginger and honey tea.
What a calm, blissful way to start the day.
I've been watching and listening to all the birds coming to life around me. We have a pond here and all the ducks have been sorting themselves out very noisily in the background - I'm not sure what's causing the disturbance but something has set them off and they're sporadically flying overhead in small groups and then back again, then making a load more noise and then more are flying over. The neighbour has a pond too so they often fly between us and swap families...
There is a little robin that's come to perch on the fence next to me and has been eyeing me up. I can't work out if he's friendly or if he thinks I'm some kind of threat and he has to keep an eye on me - I know robins are feisty and territorial little creatures.
There's an abundance of wood pigeons and crows who have temporarily turned the sky above me into some kind of avian rush hour and blackbirds and thrushes are getting busy in the neighbouring hedges.
In about an hour, a large group of blue tits and a swarm of goldfinches will appear and will swoop and chatter and play around the garden before they move on to their next playground... they seem to have a routine and, because I spend a lot of time working from home, I have become familiar with their patterns.
Further away but sometimes appearing directly overhead we have kestrels, kites and buzzards. One of the buzzards likes to sit at the top of the tree at the bottom of our garden although it's nowhere in sight at the moment.
So this Sunday morning is a quiet one... it's peaceful. It's a bit of a non-event really. Nothing has happened. I have nothing exciting or dramatic to talk about. But that's kind of the point for me...
My life sober has allowed me to grow an appreciation for the calm, the quiet, the peace...
My Sunday mornings used to be hellish - not only would I not be up to see the sunrise and to hear the birds coming to life, when I did wake up, I'd be in torment. I'd be riddled with stale alcohol, fumes emanating from every pore. I'd be full of remorse, guilt and shame. I'd be physically and mentally ill. My mind would be counting down the hours till I could start drinking again and start to feel better. I'd be dreading whatever social events might be coming up later that day. I'd be in bed till midday or mid-afternoon. I'd be consumed by panic and dread.
So, a quiet, non-eventful, nothing morning where I'm sat at peace in the garden, appreciating the world waking up around me, is a gift that I notice and value.
It's so magical to watch the world coming to life around me.
Sober living keeps on giving... what's it giving you today?
