I woke up early this morning and took my coffee outdoors on my deck. It was a bit brisk with the approach of impending autumn but refreshing as the mist rose from my cup and dissipated in the cool air. The day was awakening quiet and calm. In the distance, a train whistle sounded as it approached a crossing somewhere warning no one in particular. There would be very few travellers out at this hour. It was a lonely call yet in some way reassuring. Out there, the world continued on its journey. On my deck, it had paused a moment for my own pleasure. I revelled silently in the blessing.
From somewhere far above, there came the repeating honks of geese in flight. Faint at first but building in volume as they neared and passed over where I sat. It was a large flock in transit south to warmer climes for the winter and stopping at the nearby sanctuary in the tidal marsh. The dichotomous cacophony of their cries sharply shattered this pastoral morning while singing a reminder of the cycles of life and passing of time. Life goes on.
Rural silence gradually traded dominance of the dawning soundtrack as the migration disappeared afar. Not truly silent but so juxtaposed in nature to the artificial din of techno-mechanical clatter that inhabits and infests daily life that by its absence alone, what remains can only be described as silence. Peace. Peaceful.
I sat and simply listened as my coffee grew cold and the rising sun warmed the air. With glacial certainty the bits and pieces of arising morning began to fall into place. A dog is released from its nightly stay in the family home and barks away the squirrel munching an acorn on a patch of parched grass. A car is started and pulls away to deliver its contents at a destination attended with regularity for some purpose unknown to me. A tractor rumbles into existence in the field beside my home, intent on tending to the sustaining crops within its charge. A pair of young boys slam a door as they escape their confines and proclaim their gleeful joy leaping on the trampoline beyond the fence that borders my yard. A mother scolds them because that is what should be done when two young boys make too much noise and slam a door behind them. In the sky overhead, a jet filled with travellers, some reluctant I’m sure, slices through the thin wisps of residual clouds. And so it goes as once again another day begins.
I have been witness and in my own way participant to the recurring rebirth and renewal that the passing of night into day sets forth. It is a reminder of my own existence, my own renaissance, for I have passed from darkness into light and in doing so been granted this morning and the opportunity to behold its unfolding.
This is why I will not drink today.
Will you join me?
Will you join me in making a change in your life? Will you join me in leaving pain and remorse behind? Will you join me in clarity? Will you join me in freedom? Will you join me in resolve? Will you join me in strength? Will you join me in finding yourself? Will you join me in peace? Will you join me in all that life has to offer? Will you join me in sobriety?
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