...let it go.

Those of you who read my column last year may have noticed a slight difference in my writings of late. This being that I haven’t discussed the flavours of any specific beers, in a review like context. Whilst I have enjoyed writing more general pieces on the nature of beer this year, there is a deeper underlying cause. This year, I have given up beer for Lent.

For those of you that don’t know, Lent is the 40 days and nights leading up to Easter, and traditionally, Christians will give up something they love over the course of Lent in order to both discipline themselves and also help themselves reflect on the meaning of Easter. Now I know that many of you think that religion is a load of bollocks, and that even worse are the traditions that aren’t even specifically part of their associated faith, but sometimes these traditions can be extremely rewarding, regardless of what you believe. And I can assert that for me, Lent has become a tradition that I value.

There are many sayings regarding the absence of things you love. From the various “if you love something let it go” jokes that go around to the line in Joni Mitchell’s song Big Yellow Taxi, “You don’t know what you’ve got, till it’s gone”, plenty of people will offer their words of wisdom about loss. This tends to be in context of things much more important than a pint of beer, but often the wisdom is still applicable. And sometimes it can be good to intentionally lose something you love that’s less important to help you be ready for dealing with a true loss.

I had come to the point of often taking beer for granted. Yes I still enjoyed it - it’s refreshing, thirst quenching and tastes good – but I can guarantee that my first beer after the end of Lent will be so much more satisfying. Last year I gave up coffee for Lent, and I still fondly remember the quadruple shot short black that I had on the morning of Easter Sunday. The Euphoria it brought me made up for how much I missed coffee over the previous 6 or 7 weeks. No doubt the situation will similar once I begin drinking beer again. That longing for a cold one (accentuated by having to write about how good beer is, of course) will finally be satisfied, and all will be right in the world. Oh happy day!