I used to stare at my laptop the summer of sophomore year in college. Where I lived there was no internet. Of course, it was 2001. Most internet was hardwired. Me, being the spoiled lucky one, went to the first wireless campus in the United States. Way before the times, I was already addicted to the net.
I wasn’t working very often. Quite often I would skip work. I didn’t know many people in the town I was living in, so I just sat there staring at my laptop. I was used to messaging, web researching, and plain old nerding out. That’s what I was used to! My natural habit.
After so many games of solitaire, chess, and Tecmo football, the redundancy was kicking in. I had to make a change. Either I go find people to hang out with, or I would have to find something else to do on this computer. So naturally, I chose the computer.
I had this epiphany that I could write music lyrics. At least then I was being semi-productive. Maybe, if I could sell my rights to a major record label, I would cash in! So I took this very seriously.
Turns out, it was quite fun. I soon learned that my lyrics were really poetry. After about ten to twenty songs/poems, my interest in independent writing was high. It was freeing, calming, and soothing. I don’t know if I was good at it or not, but it did fill the time for the summer.
Over the course of the last two decades I have continued to write, but nowhere close to the same clip. Maybe ten or twenty writings collectively in twenty years! I still have an interest in it, but life became busier with a wife, two kids, full time job, and an immense amount of extra curricular activities.
Now with a career in life coaching, I have been given the opportunity to write again. Not what I am used to in poetry, but more in blogging. The word “blogging” is a bit foreign to me. I skipped this part back in my college days. It looks like the old fanzine pages that fans would publish about their famous bands they worshiped. Whatever it is, I'm intrigued.
Now finding my first topic hasn’t been easy. I must have started writing a dozen times. Stopped. Erased. Threw the computer down (gingerly of course). This was not easy. Not as easy as poems; I felt this blog needed to have meaning. Not just to me, but to others. I just wasn’t finding the deep meaning people wanted to read about.
I voiced my struggle to many people, some of whom were very helpful. Just telling me to write— “Not all your writings have to be keepers. Just keep writing.” Some also said, “Just write from your heart and you’ll be fine. Keep it meaningful.” But there was one person that really caught me off guard.
After voicing my frustration about starting a blog, a client I have been working with for several years said, “You should write about me.” My reaction to her request was that of uncertainty. To my knowledge, she was very successful in getting into shape and losing weight. She has kept in shape and the weight off for several years now. Yes, this was a great success, but no offense, it has been done before. It was a lackluster story compared to the riveting blog post idea I have been searching for.
I stared at her as she looked down, then looked at me, and she said the most shocking words I’ve heard her speak. “I was a drunk when I started with you. I never told you because I didn’t know if I was going to keep this up. Many days I would get home from work and put vodka in my coffee. I was that bad.” She paused for a bit. I managed to ask her a question, “What made you stop?” She continued, “You and others’ support. You preach about alcohol being empty calories. Where I wanted to go, I didn’t want empty calories. So I stopped drinking so much.”
The astonishment on my face must have been priceless. My question to myself was, “How could I not recognize that she was an alcoholic?” Of course, I really wasn’t looking for the signs. My job was to support her new health journey. In a roundabout way, I must have told her to quit drinking several times.
She continued, “I remember my first session with you. It was at 3:30 in the afternoon. I couldn’t wait to get done to go home and drink. I went to see you because I knew I needed to make a change, but I didn’t know if this was going to work for me.”
My curiosity of the length of time she was an alcoholic under my wing was driving me bonkers, so I asked. “Probably a couple of years. I was really slowly making changes,” she answered.
In earlier weeks, she had been telling me with such pride. “I haven’t drank for 26 days!” or “My whole family had drinks this weekend, but I didn’t. That makes 47 days!” And this session we just had, “I just reached 70 days without a drink!” These comments have more bearing than before. After spending about a decade as an excessive drinker, she slowly traded that addiction for the addiction of fitness as she is one of the most avid people in the gym.
Trying to find the meaning of this for myself, I asked her one more burning question. “What was it that I helped you with the most when it came to overcoming the drinking?” She exclaimed, “You planted little seeds (information) in my head. I would take those seeds and spread it to others. It was kind of a ricochet effect. I was helping and caring for others just like you were for me.”
It wasn’t clear at the start of this article what the meaning was going to be at the end, but sometimes when we aren’t looking for meaning is when it is presented in front of us. Our job is to be ourselves. Inspire others with your trust, knowledge, and consistent love. Then your inspiration will spread everyday. It doesn’t matter if you know how—just believe you’re making a huge difference somewhere.