It’s been quiet here at Beerstone. Physical labor and life-side machinations have contributed, though a large part was not quite knowing what to write about not drinking. I thought at first, “I’ll highlight non-alcoholic beverages and where to find them!” (Shout out to High Street Tonics!). But as the month slid by, some pounds slid off, and I guzzled can after can of fizzy, low-calorie, probiotic soda, I didn’t really feel like preaching or “sharing my sobriety story.” Until now, sorta.

This is my third Sobertober, and by far the easiest. I spent my free time in the first couple weeks rebuilding a fence on one side of my property. Plenty of time to think while sweating over a post hole digger. I surprised myself by not cracking a beer at the end of the day; even more that I wasn’t annoyed by the self-imposed restriction.

I caught part of an interview with Michael Pollan on NPR’s Think Out Loud show while driving home today. It was a rerun, and he was talking about his 2021 book This is Your Mind on Plants, about giving up caffeine, and, as he does, the stimulant’s history and relationship with Western civilization. As he went on, I realized that I could identify with his particular addiction nearly verbatim. The timing for me, coming up to the end of Sobertober, was almost too… convenient.

Pollan, his journalistic insight into human-nonhuman entanglement honed over decades and a handful of incredibly popular books, wrote down what I have been thinking all month, just sub beer:

“Was there any way to preserve the power of this drug? Could I devise a new relationship to caffeine, maybe treat it more like a psychedelic, like, say, something to be taken only on occasion and with a greater degree of ceremony and intention? Maybe drink coffee just on Saturdays.”

Addiction isn’t something we talk about a lot in the beer industry. Varying levels of alcohol addiction are accepted as part of the lifestyle, an occupational hazard that rears its head for some in the form of a beer gut, the occasional DUI, or burnout. For others, like myself, the addiction is nebulous; I don’t need to drink all day, but I enjoy the ritual, the buzz, and the social aspects.

The problem, even with my own awareness and decent competency at self control, is that… well, I’ll let Pollan say it: “You’re not going to understand your relationship to any substance while you’re addicted to it.”

If the term hop creep wasn’t already taken, I’d use it to describe my particular habit: a low to moderate daily consumption that increases over time until my brain and body say “woah there, tiger” and I slow back down. After many years of only taking breaks while sick, I finally decided to take a dedicated month off of alcohol. (I rarely take other drugs, so that is not at issue here.)

The first year was aggravating, cold turkey, no finesse. Last year was similar, but at least I had context; still, stress would trigger an instinctive maneuver to escape into a pint. This year, I started a couple days early with a head cold, which made the transition a bit more organic.

As I write this, I can hear all those who own and work at breweries shouting “No, don’t say it out loud!” Our local breweries (away from the grocery store shelves!) need all the support they can get, which means buying and (presumably) consuming their beer. I feel responsible. I miss my friends. I want to be part of the community because I see and feel its vibrancy. A month isn’t even that long!

At the same time, I can fit, once more, into some of those clothes that have been buried in my closet. I’m crushing it at the bouldering gym (yup, just typecast m’self). My guitar playing has gotten more creative. Conversations still flow, I still giggle. I miss the social and sensory and, yeah, a little buzz, but not the other mental and physical effects of alcohol. I’m happy to be reconnected with my baseline, unencumbered.

One thing I do crave, and here is my Old Man Shouts at Cloud moment: a proper, elegant, soul-nourishing beer. No gimmicks, nothing flashy. A Trappist tripel, a Vienna lager. With friends. Soon enough.