SUNDAY
SUNDAY
For me one of the ever-ending- gifts-of-sobriety is the simple realisations that hit me as I do the mundane and ordinary, like washing my face at midnight and making tea in a proper china cup like my mother like - mad isn't it? Not really. It's truthful. I am not alone in not taking care of my skin when a bottle in. I am not alone in putting bottles on a marble counter in a particular way. The good news is that we are here together and we know these things about ourselves and May your Monday be a day of ordinary extraordinary moments where you can embrace the gift that is YOU RIGHT NOW and simplicity of washing your face and put down a cup bringing pure joy and a smile…
It's a lovely Monday morning in Madrid. Not too early. Not too late. And I'm celebrating washing my face last night that has ensured that I didn't wake up with a face that would frighten small children. There are more nights in my life that I did not cleanse or tone my face having wine on board than there are not. It's amazing what can make you smile early morning and for me it is the ‘ordinary’ which starts with authenticity and is anything but ‘ordinary.’ Sobriety is a million moments of extraordinary strung together across twenty-four-hours. A simple example of what that means to me is this morning when I put my ‘good’ china cup down on our kitchen counter which is marble. I AM THAT WOMAN who cherished the sound of bone china kissing the early morning breakfast kitchen. It was a gentle sound, nothing jarred the early morning moment and more importantly, I didn't have to PLACE it in any particular way, or at an odd angle hoping it wouldn't be heard. The sober gold is that me and and my china tea cup don't care who hears the kiss on Spanish marble. Early mornings wins being notched up are a clean face and a bone china cup kissing the counter top this morning.
For so long I laid wine bottles so very gently on this blinking counter top afraid of making noise thus alerting my husband and sons to the heralding sound of Mom exiting the building in her head. I am almost ashamed to admit the amount of times I walked in laden down with shopping bags in which the wine was casually hidden, nervously laying them on the tiled floor hoping against all hope that they would not make that clanking bottle sound. Tiled floors and marble kitchen counters became my enemy as me and wine o clock-addiction tried to con all those around me as to the buying of wine, the opening of wine, the drinking of vat-loads of wine. Whispering wine bottles on marble counter tops may seem like nothing but to me in the height of my wine o clock addiction. That clank of bottles hitting the counter still puts the fear of God into me as it chillingly reminds me of how low I went. I ACTUALLY spent time thinking about how to lay bags of shopping filled with wine on the floor without making noise, or how to place a bottle on a counter top without it making a single solitary sound.
Please join me as I look skyward and say not today lady, not today.
Lots of love,
Susan C. xxx
HOLA SOBER | MADRID
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