My friend Maggie used to say, somebody’s gotta be driving the bus.
For too many years, it hasn’t been me. Some maniac with a death wish has been driving the bus of my life down treacherous mountain roads, way too fast, with no brakes and sometimes with no steering wheel. For too many years I’ve been a passenger, gazing out the window in a stupor. Occasionally the bus crashes and burns. On a good day, I find myself crawling out of the wreckage, dusting myself off, assessing the damage, and making sure the bus gets into the shop for repairs. On a less good day I just lie there dazed, waiting to be rescued. Sometimes I’m not even on the bus. I’m just watching it go by from the side of the road. Sometimes it picks me up, sometimes it drives on by, sometimes it runs me over. So who is this maniac behind the wheel? I’m not sure yet, but what I do know for sure is that it’s the part of me that has a very intimate and toxic relationship with alcohol.
This blog is about my journey to the centre of my universe, where I get back in the driver’s seat, take the wheel, and start driving the bus of my own life.
The bus in the pictures is descending into the Ramon Crater in the Negev desert. The road is steep and full of switchbacks, but the view is breathtaking. I was so focused on the metaphor of the bus itself that I didn’t notice the metaphor of descent until after I’d started writing this, but I like how it fits with my theme of journeying to my centre, where I actually really live.
I was — I am — afraid to make this public. Hell, I don’t even really think anyone will ever find this blog unless I invite them, but I’m still so afraid someone will find out who I am … and then what? On the one hand, I feel it would be catastrophic personally and career-wise. On the other, I think, oh come on, who do you think you are? How did you ever get so important? What makes you think anyone would care? Yet I’m still so afraid that people who know me will find out I’m an addict, and will think the less of me. I’m afraid a client will stumble upon this and will find out who I am, and that that would hurt the business. I’m so locked into caring about what other people think of me that I don’t dare be truthful about this with the people nearest and dearest to me. I don’t want their judgement and I don’t want their pity. I know on some level that they already know. But my struggle has been a private struggle and I’m desperate to keep it that way.
Nevertheless, I’m posting publicly. Hoping and praying that I’ve taken good enough measures to stay anonymous, but choosing to share my story despite the risk of being found out, because I’ve come to see that story is important. I never thought I had anything worth saying, but I’ve realized that just as I’ve been inspired by other people’s words, perhaps my words might resonate with someone out there. I’ve chosen to feel that this is more important than my fear.
So. Deep breath. Off we go …
Driving my own bus 