I got the idea some time ago at an SA International Convention to try giving up movies. I could see people getting all excited about going to them, and I began to suspect that something was wrong. As far back as five years old, when they cost less than ten cents, I remember them as being a welcome change from the emotionally impoverished family environment in which I lived. For that reason, they had always been an important source of relief.

But I decided I wanted sobriety more. So, one day at a time, I gave up my weekly sabbatical. One of the most surprising things I learned was that it was not just the visual images that destroyed serenity; it was the sounds. The last few times I went, I noticed how violently my body reacted to the “thrilling” music and startling sounds added to make an impression in certain scenes. I would come out of the theater with my eyes wide open and my head back from the assault of pictures and noise.

I miss that journey into fantasy occasionally; and every once in a while, I think a movie has come out that would be safe or sufficiently interesting to break my commitment; but as the time approaches, I always decide that it’s not really worth it after all. I don’t want to be assaulted again, and it’s not worth it just to look at something that is not real anyway. I read an interesting treatise once by a famous playwright on how many levels away from reality that a play actually is. I can imagine that movies are several more levels away.

I have found now, after probably a couple of years of not going to movies, that I am more peaceful. I do not wait eagerly for my weekly fix anymore. I do not look for the same level of excitement in my real life to reproduce what I found so exciting in the theater. Life is much more serene and moves at a much slower pace. I am not as eager as many around me and sometimes feel out of step, but I find that the level of sobriety is worth it. I realize now that I never really got that much out of movies in the first place.