LeftWriteFemme,

I am so hoping that I don't mess up your place of peace with my post....but....(isn't there always a but) I need a place to vent my spleen. And I can NOT do it at the meetings I go to, because this resenment stems from those meetings. So I'm gonna do it here because you guys have been in the program long enough that hopefully you can talk me off my resentment ledge. :vigil:

Hi, My name is Julie and I am an addict and an alcoholic!!!!


I can not STAND when in meetings people start going on and on and ON about god and religion. Our program is there for everyone who has this disease we call addiction. The belief in a higher power is the cornerstone for all that follows, BUT....It is god as WE understand him. It is NOT....YOUR....general you's, version. It is a very personal thing and many struggle greatly to accept this concept so they can get on with the deal of working the steps.

If, 23 years ago when I entered the rooms for the first time, if someone had told me I had to turn my will and my life over to their god, I would have run screaming back out the door. And I'd still be out there, unless I was 6 feet under with toes up.

Step two even spells it out....a power greater than yourself. Thirds step....god as you understand him. It is worded that way for a reason. But sitting in my meetings lately I have heard all sorts of judgement surrounding this. People with 15 or 20 years not talking about how their god works in their life but actually telling the people in the meetings that the only way to stay sober is to go to church, get on your knees etc. etc. And then of course their sponsees all follow the same line of thinking and spewing.

Over the past month I've seen at least 12 newbies run, and I mean RUN out the doors after hearing these messages. What do I do? I run after them. And try to explain how it works for ME. But after sitting for 20 or so minutes in a room where the majority message is....you must do this, this way or you will fail....I'm just one more crazy person stalking them out of the room. An active addict is not going to have the ability to sort all this out. Remember how crazy headed you were when you first started. I didn't have a rational thought for 4 years for goodness sake. So how can these poor people reason out what I'm trying to say to them?


Why does this make me mad? Because this is a fatal disease!!! How many of those people go straight back to using? Probably a lot. That makes me more insane than I already am.

I know for me, i struggled greatly with the concept of a higher power. I was raised in a religion that was very judgy. I turned my back on it so when I had to get sober in order to live, i fought for years trying to figure out a power greater than myself. I was super lucky because my first sponser just kept working with me. She told me the only thing I could NOT do was pick up.The rest would come. And it did. And after seven years (sometimes quickly....sometimes not LOL) I finally came to grips with a power greater than myself. And I was able to turn it over, about 150 times a day, still, but I DO turn it over to a god of MY understanding.

I've had sponsees over the years who we had to use things like the ocean, the wind, the smell of a flower. One even used the light switch that turned on the light as her higher power for almost two years. And that worked. Because all it is, is something GREATER than yourself.

This is a program that is measured by progress, not perfection. Nobody has to be perfect with a perfect higher power. Each individual addict needs to seek their own. One that works for them. And not everyones is going to look the same. Mine is an evil bitch with a great sense of humor. Usually humor at my expense but that teaches me things I obviously need to be taught.


I'm just so sad that newbies are leaving the meetings because of a bad message that seems to have become the new fad in my area. I know this is my issue. I know that I can only do what I can do or what my higher power shows me to do, but.....hehehe....I have this damn disease that makes me think I need to be in control of everything and MUST save everyone.


LeftWriteFemme, again I hope I'm not messing up your space with my rantings. I just really needed to vent my spleen and the meetings would not be the place for it. Doing it here I hope will get me to a point that I can drop this damn rock I seem bent on dragging around with me. So thank you for this place and the opportunity for me to get rid of it!!!


Take care,
julie

Hey Julie, I am delighted you shared in here. I assure you this is not my space, this is OUR space........I'm simply the one compulsive enough to post here everyday. I hope you will come often and share. I agree with Daktari, I really wish this to be a place where everyone comes and shares.

By the way I agree with everything you shared and often want to run screaming when folks try to pour their brand of HP on the group! It's wrong and these are the folks I pray most for because they are so missing the boat on what the 12 steps have to offer by trying to proselytize in meetings.

Have a great day!

Sherrie

September 16

ROOFTOP COFFEE



Who is more powerless: the person driving down the road with his cup of coffee on the roof of the car, or the one who sees it happen? Lost in mental chaos, lost to the small things, I set the cup and forget, or content and serene, I am examining details and notice the oddness. When my mind wanders I am helpless in the whirlpool and suction. When I am grounded I am struck by the separate sealedness of the carnival around me. Potential rides on the top; will it fall forward or back? Will there be a sticky haze on the front windshield or the rear? Or I could remember at the stoplight and spare myself everything but the embarrassment. As the observer I try to be helpful, I point and jump and shout, calling the predicament to the attention of others in an attempt to increase my chances of success. We all stand as the coffee speeds away to unknown disaster.


Wear your boldness like a mane.
*

Hand Washing


I live a simple life now;
I handle life as it is dished up.
I no longer need to make use of the dish prison.

Living an orderly active life I find it untenable
to have my favorite spoon or bowl held hostage
until I make enough mess to run the dishwasher through.

I don’t live an ‘Eight is Enough’ type existence
and need not burden my psyche
trying to save my hands a little soap.

I save the Cascade for visits to waterfalls,
Jet Dry for landing strips.

September 17

HATCHLING



When the shell gets too tight it’s time to hatch. I can’t tell you it’s safe out there, just that it’s time to go. The leaving is not easy. Exodus fulfilled by the use of one small tooth. This experience may or may not prepare you for the rest of your life, so much still depends on predestination and your attitude. I mean are you a chicken or a hawk? A peacock or dove? Or is there something of which I am unaware? Did someone sit on your nest or was it covered in sand? Are you turtle, lizard or snake? See, so much is out of your hands, but still your actions are your choice.


Touch your books and pet them.

*

Ovoid

I can pretend at this normal life for a period of time
then the plaster starts to crack on this white picket fence
and it’s all down hill from there.

I am better than I was;
I am happier and more well adjusted,
yet I am still far from fitting with the standard fittings,
I am an off size, my threads run counter to the average fixture,

I spent too much time on the rack
to resemble anything from off the rack.
It’s not that I am so special;
it is just that I am Special Ed.

Performance anxiety and paranoia regularly take me out of round
though even with these kept at bay I am not your normal nut.
I assure you that you can dress me up and take me out,
just don’t try to take me home.

My name is...************ and i am an alcoholic. Thank you all for sharing. I am only going to say a few things because i am not as spiritually fit as i need to be...a little self will run riot... And i fear posting,in general, for different reasons. Also, need more coffee.

There is a whole chapter in the book dedicated to the concept of ...basically, the separation of AA and the church or temple or what have you...for a reason.

We Agnostics.
Not everyone has a spiritual experience.
Not everyone believes in a higher power.
It is a power greater than ourselves.
Acceptance is the answer. And by not accepting people that don't have that experience or don't believe in God...is actually...well, i consider that limited and closed minded. I don't think that many people realize how they frighten people away from the rooms because of the God thing. God is written all over the book and in the steps so that is enough for some people to handle.
It is funny...i pray for them to see the light...
And i have to accept them.
Spiritual progress and fitness comes from many different places. Not just God.

In my experience, there are new people that would come and they do run away thinking that the program is not for them... because of some insistance that God be included in each person's process.
I have had similar experiences with new comers and trying to share that sobriety doesn't have to come from God or a higher power. I would introduce and try to share that as quickly as i could so they wouldn't have to listen to more religion. Just to... maybe give them hope to come back and then listen to what they had to say. And they would come back. It was always a nice surprise when the would. And they would find other people like themselves.
It starts with the first step. Try to keep it simple.
Heck, my higher power when i first got sober was a water bottle and then i found chocolate. And on some days...i need it to stay sane.


Femmsational, Maybe you could start a new meeting there. A big book meeting.
Or, suggest reading we agnostics in the meeting.
And also, it only takes 2 people to have a meeting.
I think you are doing a good job. And you do matter there. Just remember that.

September 18

SMARTS



Intelligence should be used as a tool not a weapon. Intelligence is as common as silica and can be used to do anything, so, why not as a helping hand, lifeline, foothold? Intelligence doesn’t preclude ignorance, arrogance or stupidity. Nor does it eliminate selfishness, greed or anarchy. Intelligence is not a substitute for wisdom and cannot hold a candle to kindness. Intelligence makes things possible, help and hurt; intention makes the decision. Intelligence is like a hand full of sand.


Pair your books for companionship.
*

Buffoon


Never juggle knives and butter at the same time
or you will just spread your problems around.
Passing on the knives is the first best idea,
leaving the butter in the dish is the second.

I have gotten many funny schemes into my brain;
gotten them in with ease,
it is the getting them out of my brain I struggle with.

Crowbars and coercion have been my favored tools;
ineffective though they may be, I am persistent,
while wishing to be dexterous.

It took me years to realize the problem with juggling is
that it begins with me throwing things
and ends with disaster if I can’t catch it all.

What slips through my fingers
through daily living is hard enough
what I throw into the fray for showmanship is, too much.

I needn’t be the fool flinging my pins
when my goal is to stay on them.

aaaaaand...back in the room!
 

September 19

HUMILITY


A great woman walks my street everyday. She carries a tall walking stick with a loop for her hand. Each morning I see her low crown of hair and the half-smile, her friendly wave when I catch her eye. Each morning when I see her I see the secret play across her face, humility. This is the secret she cannot share. I know she would sing it from the mountaintops if it would help, but humility is not a secret you can tell; it’s a secret you have to live with. As I slowly learn this precious thing I see it shine in others. Recognition of the persons with inborn dignity and a keen understanding of their personal value lights inside me. When I see this fine woman walking with purpose, I appreciate myself better and am so very grateful for those who keep humility alive by living it.


Know your friends well and your books better.
*

Toolbox

I know just how hard it is to pick up the right tools.
It's like I know I have a hammer in the drawer,
in fact I have two, so, why oh, why do I feel compelled
to hit things with the heel of my shoe?

Trust and believe it is ineffective at best;
additionally it is embarrassing.
I wish I could say I have done this a handful of times,
unfortunately, I have done it over and over,
it’s hell on my shoes and worse on my morale.

Using what is at hand or foot may seem practical,
but it is not prudent.
Walking myself through the step by step process;
reading and following directions is easier
but only when I disengage the lie that says it’s harder.

Control Freaks???? I have NO idea what you're talking about.....hehehe.

I know without a shadow of a doubt we can't save anyone, let alone everyone. It's a personal journey and we, as long time members can only show how it works for us. It's up to the newbie to do the actions they need to in order to work THEIR program. But holy HELL it's sad.

I think the problem I'm having is that I'm used to a different type of meeting. When I got sober, I got sober in the north east, New Jersey to be exact. They didn't play. The old timers told me how it was and nobody patted my head and told me everything would be ok. I had it drilled into my head that...yes, you will in fact die. You have a disease. It is fatal. It's a disease of the thinking....blah, blah, blah. You've all heard it before. But they also showed me the tools I needed to LIVE. It was all about the steps for them so it translated to ME being all about the step.

During my 23 years in the program I've been to meetings all over the United States and in a few other countries. I understand that the "tones" of meetings are different in different regions. I guess I'm comfortable in the more in your face approach because that was the only thing that got through to my crazy brain when I first got sober. When I first moved to Alabama, I realized that it was way different here. I kinda distanced myself from most service work because I really had a problem with the whole god approach down here. I've been around the meetings down here for a couple of years and I have not gotten involved like I normally would. Still working my program. Still an AA Nazi (excuse the term, it's what people call me) But I can't seem to be involved in this area because it allows me to form resentments and that will kill my ass!!!


Yes, the "gasp" heard round the rooms. I always speak about my truth when the topic is a higher power or how it works for you. LOL!!! It's kinda funny the looks I get from the ones who think GOD IS KING!!! But holy cow. Isn't sharing all about talking about what works for you???


And the group concious meetings are mostly about what color to paint the trim at Common Ground and should we get one or two more trash cans. I don't want to create friction where it would do no good other than making me feel better. Cause really, it isn't all about me. DAMMIT!!! :vigil:

I think I just needed to get this off my chest and the meetings where NOT the place for this particular spleen vent! Others see it but, over the years i've been here, they've kinda pulled away from the meetings because it wasn't feeling right for them either.

I do know that this is my issue and I need to put up or shut up, but.......hehehe.......Bitching about it helps too. And I do feel SO much better after getting it of my chest.


I just have to remember....."It's not all about me," and I'll be good to go.


Take care,
julie

Hi, I'm Dance, and I'm an enabler. Not a Friend of Bill's in the classic sense, but started attending Nar-anon thinking that my junkie step-daughter was the source of all my problems and finally learned that the problem was me -- and not that I was even enabling her, but that I'd spent 11 years enabling my ex/her mom to make my step-d's addiction the the only thing that mattered. I am a completely changed person now that I'm learning that I cannot fix or control anyone else's addiction - whether that be an addiction to drugs or an addiction to fixing an addict no matter what the price or consequences. I'm also addressing my own addiction to fixing damaged people. And I have to say that it's a HUGE relief after a lifetime of being the Fixer to be able to really see that it's not my job to fix or save anyone.

I read this thread fairly regularly. The above posts are about folks who are not doing well with the faith-based program of AA. The basic tenant of AA is a spiritual awakening is required for sobriety and the concept of powerlessness.

Perhaps those folks who leave AA (that is a very large number according to AA's own data) do not feel a spiritual awakening is needed/required for sobriety. There are secular programs out there. Secular meaning a spiritual awakening is NOT required for sobriety. Most secular programs do not have the powerlessness concept either.

If I am not mistaken, the first secular group started was 'Women for Sobriety, Inc' http://womenforsobriety.org . Another secular group is LifeRing Secular Recovery www.lifering.org I know that LifeRing and Women for Sobriety do not have the concept of powerlessness in their programs.

Maybe instead of trying to get them to come back in AA you might suggest they try a secular program. Or you could suggest they try LifeRing (or Women for Sobriety) plus AA.

Just some thoughts that have been running through my head after reading the above posts.

Personally, I feel a person needs to go and do whatever it is that works for them. What works for me is AA. It is not a "faith based" program. At least not for me. It's a program that requires nothing but what each individual is comfortable doing when trying to understand a power greater than themselves.

I, memememe, was not complaining about having problems with a "faith based" program. I was complaining about the people in my meetings trying to MAKE it a faith based program.

I agree there are other things for people all over the place that can help facilitate sobriety. But again, for mememe, I can't speak to them because all I can do is share MY experience, strength and hope. And that comes from the non-faith based program of AA.


I don't know. Toughy, your post felt wierd to me. Can people not discuss issues in a thread titled "Friends of Bill W," without being told there are other things out there? I mean we all know there are but here in this thread with people talking about the program and how it works for them.....do we need a post that pulls bits and pieces of quotes and seems to be saying we need to get over ourselves????

It may just be me, but I just wanted to let you know it felt wierd reading your post and it reconfirmed for me why I need to not share so much from my soul in public. I'm sensitive and get my feelings hurt too easily:-)

Have a good day Toughy.

julie

julie.........The above is the very first post and I don't think my post is inappropriate.

The post was not out of the blue, it was relevant to what was being said in the thread in the last couple of days.

I was simply suggesting another way to approach sobriety because of the conversation in this thread about folks who leave AA because of the faith-based or spiritual awakening aspects of AA...specifically Steps 2, 3, 6, 7, 11 and 12.

Many many folks new to recovery and some not so new do not know about secular programs....many folks who work in the business don't even know about them. There are secular approaches that each of us could offer to folks struggling with their own sobriety and are having trouble with AA. After all, the point is sobriety.

The more tools in the toolbox, the better off we all are.

I also agree with both Julie and Daktari

I'm out of this. All of you have misunderstood/ignored my intent and/or my explanations. That feels like you are being really defensive. You have made this personal when there was no personal involved.

Thanks for the learning experience.

Toughy,

Me telling you my feelings about what you posted was not an attack. It was just me putting out there how I felt at the moment. It seemed to me that maybe you weren't reading the previous posts because as I said, It started with me complaining about people who were trying to make my meetings INTO something faith based.


I'm with you. I think there are many different options out here for each individual. And the more info out in the world the better.


It just felt odd. No critizism. No attack. Just telling you my thoughts. I'm good at that....remember. LOL!!!


Don't go away. Please. That was not my intent.


julie

My name is Brute/AJ and I'm an addict and alcoholic.


Lol. I just typed out that the whole "faith based" and "religion" thing has been keeping me from going to meetings but I know that's not true. It's me. I keep myself from going to meetings. Let me be more specific. My DISEASE wants to keep me away from sobriety. Had to tell on myself there because being honest with myself is something that is still new to me.

I still have that quick flickering thought of just up and leaving when they start doing the "God spill" during the meetings but I don't. I stick it out because I want, no, I have to share myself. Not for them. For myself. It's hard sometimes because I don't want to come across as resentful but damn it the ONLY thing that kept me at AA was being lucky enough to have a partner and sponsor (not one and same, two different folks, folks lol) who told me over and over, "Don't forget the part AFTER God that says as you understood him. If it weren't for that, I seriously don't think I'd still be sober today. I've watched newbies get up and walk out in middle of another person ranting about only way anyone can stay sober is by being on their knees praising God for this or that. Grates on my nerves but I can't let that stop me from going.

I wasn't a part of the earlier convo but couldn't help but have to share my thoughts (yes, it's about me damn it cause I'm so smart ya know?)... Don't think anyone was attacking or being defensive, Toughy. Honestly.

For me it's not a faith based program because faith based (down here in this part of the South) particularly means religious. No if's, and's, or but's about it. Lol. There are more church related AA meetings/groups/treatment centers than there are plain ole AA meetings/groups/treatment centers. So it's a huge deal here.

I can see how calling it faith based could be different then just religious based because I have faith that there is a higher power out there. Something greater than myself. Has to be. I sure as hell haven't kept myself sober for two years. Not just sober but actually happy for most part. Granted my Higher Power has been kicking my ass with all the negative karma I've got built up from over the years but that's okay. There are times I laugh about it, times I cry about it and times I say, "Fuck you....just let me be for a minute!" Nothing I can do about it except know it's there and it's keeping me sober along with tools I use.

Shit I'm rambling. I tend to do that at meetings too. :fart: Lol.

Anyway, this is good. Cool. I actually have that warm fuzzy feeling I get after sharing at a meeting. Sweet! Oh and with my new job I seriously hope to get to go to a meeting up near New Jersey or Detroit. Heard they're hard core and I want to experience that. Got a taste of it from a guy during my last meeting before I headed back out to work and wow. Blew my mind listening to him.

Done Sharing,
Brute.

Damn... My Bad...I know that my quick post and then a cut and run didn't help here... example...just posting that i agreed with the others without expanding on my agreement with them and why. I was just agreeing with being a little
uncomfortable with the approach of the post ...not what was said.
Toughy, I also agree with what you had to say and offer too.
I definately didn't mean for you to feel attacked for sharing. For that, i apologize. I am glad i came back to check this. I can see why you would have felt that way.


And for everyone else, i apologize for the drop and run. And i have to go again.

September 20

JUST A TASTE OF SUNSHINE


The sunrise is so beautiful I want to taste it. Like a child who needs to put everything in her mouth to really know it, I feel the need for a bite. I want to participate in every way. I want to blend with the color of the sky, join the horizon and dip beyond. Look at me, who in the past sounded every retreat, now I leap toward life. I stretch my arms to take it all in, merging with the continuum on this greatest of adventures. The sun raises the charge and I lick my lips in anticipation.


Find the stop signs in your life.

*

Mercy

The rearview holds the vision,
the sad figure on the corner as I drive away,
all that is left to me are memories of God,
the rest I ejected and sped from as fast as I could.

I cannot face what is left
when I make God homeless and unloved.
Though living together was tough sometimes,
living alone is unbearable.

Nothing cooks right, cleans right, tastes right or smells right,
even the moon won’t rise right when I am strictly on my own.
And God wasn’t built for the streets,
that corner is not someplace my Higher Power fits in.

We are meant to be together
and apart the world spins off its measure.
Pitiful is what I am, so I swing around the block,
fling open the door and take pity on God and go home.

Daktari ........I tried to send you a PM and you have no storage left. I don't want you to think I am ignoring this post. I am happy to talk to you about it.

September 21

SELF-SEEKING IS A DEBIT



Trying to get credit for everything I do has run me into debt in my anonymity account, which draws directly from my humility bank. I cannot expend my resources seeking acknowledgement and expect to retain much dignity or class. How can I build within while constantly grasping for nods and smiles from scenery and landscaping? I want approval so much that I have lost my center. In an attempt to top the charts I forgot my song. My ego writes checks that my soul can’t cover. I run my potential into the red looking to get my name in black and white. If I keep my name out of lights I have a chance of building up my dignity.


Own your own blocks.

*

No Jinn

I molested the touch control lamp.
I had no trouble turning it on,
but could never figure how to turn it off;
therefore I let the light shine in the daytime.

I called looking for guidance,
“lick your fingers then try again,” was the glib suggestion.
I offered that I was not interested
in becoming that intimate with said lamp.

Sometimes connections are made easily,
other times they cannot be made at all,
still there are times the renewal of a connection
is determined by my willingness to up the ante.

Am I willing to put a little spit into the effort
or will I leave the light to burn?

September 22

MEGAPHONE


The point of surviving, or maybe the goal after survival, is enabling the voices of victims to be heard, starting with my own. I allow the surging waves of thought and feeling to rush the gates and exit. I try to bleed the bad with and without the use of leaches. So much is stumbled upon rather than sought after. Some things hound me; I run down the street with memory at my heels. I must let the screams out or become them. Today I talk, tomorrow is for others. When I pour forth, I open the way for the rest. I have become the megaphone rather than the cheerleader. It is good to be of use.


Pollinate ideas.

*

Peace Time

I have been to the wars and through the wars
and now sit on the stoop and wonder;
will I learn to live here in the world of everyday
after having had to spend so much time running for cover.

Each time I return to what I believe is my home
I sit and rock trying to pour my soul back inside
from my hipflask where it was held for safekeeping.

I try not to spill a drop
for it is worse than shed blood and harder to rebuild.
My soul has grown pale from confinement and lack of sun,
but it still exists and for that I pat my back
and suck on my Lifesaver;

I could have done worse, was unable to do better.
I console myself with the knowledge
I never started the conflict just learned to survive it.

September 23

WILD


When I run wild through the rain my hair streaming behind me, water fleeing my face, I see with my heart the thousand other rains pouring from my past. How I peel from me the soaking luggage covering my naked pain. Nothing drives me to the cozy retreat of my bed like the humid chill of an early fall drizzle. I slip my trembling skin between the comfort and the comforter, flex my toes, towel my hair, wipe scenes of lost love from my pale, pale soul. Leaves rush my gutters, clog my mind. I see the change in me as I turn heel to heel, trees spinning bare in a blank wet world. I know this ever relived fluid, this recycled life.


Interest yourself.

*

What is Dear?


I am angry that I was taught I must hold on for dear life
instead of being taught that life is dear,
but they couldn’t teach me what they didn’t know
and couldn’t know what they had not discovered for themselves.

I wish I had learned earlier
to love the life I was taught to cling to,
but I am grateful I have been bound to life
long enough to find the joy in it.

I have found that knowing joy
causes me to cling all the more,
cling in sweetness to what was once such a bitter task.

I am angry for what I wasn’t taught,
but sadder still for what they didn’t know
and all that is lost in their lives to ignorance and tradition.

I wanted better for them
and they wanted better for me
and this is the circle which closes
around the dear that I hold onto.

September 24

WORKS



I cry the waterworks so necessary to the healing of my heart. I explode with the fireworks required for anger to set living boundaries. I sleep the sleep of angels, as I link to dreamworks allowing mental maintenance to occur. Slipping into my political face I make time for public works. I return to my abode, call the pie maker and order ‘the works.’ Have it delivered so I can face the mountain of homework waiting for me and bearing my name.


Suggest solutions in your diary.
*

No Dialing Tonight.

When it is late at night and I can’t sleep
I wander and putter and plan my dreams.
I hold out hopes and wash their faces;
pray for rain and clean all traces.

Thunderstorms rumble and lightning strikes;
I tune up the plumbing and wipe down the pipes.
All the paint and promises in the world won’t change me;
I’m still lost in the dark without you.

Tear stains are friendly till I wash them away
leaving blotchy eyes that can’t be explained;
an aching heart that keeps on ticking
and wishes that can’t come true.

Sunday morning is here, too soon
and life rolls on whether you think it should.
Tiny thoughts come out to play
and sad, sad fears keep them at bay.

But the dog is curled up under the covers without a care;
I long to disturb her but do not dare.
She is the queen here and I’m but the naïve;
I’ll tend to my writing and try to be brave.

For the dawn will follow this endless nocturne;
the whole world will be safe once more.
I will cry but it’s all too late;
though you are merely a phone call away.

September 25

OPTICAL ILLUSIONS


“Like my new frames?” I ask my sponsor.
“Who wrote your prescription?”
“Oh, the lenses aren’t new, just the frames,” I reply.
“You want to be seen differently but you want to see things the same old way. My question still stands. Who wrote you the script for those funhouse glasses you have used all your life? Did it ever occur to you the distortion is ground into the glass? Remember, some people need you to see things as other than what they are. Unhappy families look great if you can’t see them too clearly. It’s hard to know what to say to keep the peace, said Grandma. She never took off her specs to see there was no peace to keep. So, I will ask you again. The view of the world you base your choices on, who chose the color you see it through?”


Breathe to improve your mind and mood.
*

Green Wood

When a nail is hammered into a living tree,
the tree is forever changed.
Even if the barb is pulled out
he tree will never be the same.

If the spike remains and the tree lives;
over time the nail will be incorporated,
the tree will get on with the business of living
and carry the thing as just a part of what it took to get here.

What was trauma is trauma,
but life is big and the longer it gets
the larger the life, is the hope.

Piercing experience is engulfed by rings of fresh wood
and a will to grow beyond the moment of impact.
The tree branches out and even a hundred nails can’t stop that.

September 26

SCREAMING LETHARGY



The screaming lethargy of being alive after many years of wanting something else, the exhaustion of pulsing, breathing, waves and waves of thinking. Yet as tired as I am, I am. Here without a doubt, I stand. No crawling for I have not fallen, no climbing for I have reached the plain. I wait for the rain to wash over me, the truth to run through me, time to pass by me. As if on a free trip to an unwelcome destination I arrive with randomly packed bags and low expectations. I’m here now. The train doesn’t seem to be moving on. I might as well leave the station, nothing to do on the platform. There may be points of interest or flowers to be smelled. I step haltingly and fear making any connection to this unbidden place. My name is unknown; I befriend the lamppost, the birds, the street. I am tired of travel, fearful of arrival. Fury courses through my veins but the weather is pleasant, I might take off my coat and stay.


Plan a trip with no destination.
*

One Street off Amory



Apology holds change at arms length.
Apology is the thing I was taught to wait for
as a sign that things will improve,
but apology is not a harbinger of change.

It is quite the opposite
it is the guarantor of business as usual;
no amendment need occur,
apology has been made and life goes on with no alteration.

Without variation we all stay sick
and apologizing for that won’t get us better.
Restitution, amends, revelation, revolution
these are the things which make the world bright,

Apology is just a scrap with which to wipe your ass.

September 27

PIROUETTES



I turn and spin; the world flashes as I go. I am erect, proud of my self-possession. I can stand the forces of vector rotation, public opinion and gravity. Sobriety has made a dancer out of me. I sprint the stage and take my place. I know the moves and trust, as best I can, the choreographer and the choreography. I feel the wind move on my body as I revolve, the blur of existence spreads out before me. I can let it all pass. To spot myself and keep my upright posture, the only place that requires my clear and unobstructed view is the line of sight from my sponsor’s eyes to mine.


Let your work speak.

*


A Verse to the Wise

Encoding truth into poetry
makes reality survivable by giving readers
the opportunity to dig truth up like diamonds.

Throwing certainty in people’s faces like cold water
gives them a wakeup call but nothing to embrace.
The beauty of semaphore is the dance
that need not be understood by everyone who sees it.

Communication through device
leaves headroom and breathing space
while acceptance might be reached.

The current of a conversation
often leads me to face the facts,
but a tsunami of candor could drown me.

September 28

LINEAGE



People stand in the queue and I stare, lost in contemplation and compliance. I weigh the conflicts and complications. Is this the method to clear identification? I think I am better known for the lines I’ve crossed, the times I press between warm souls and force myself to the area beyond. How can I wait my turn for generational stew when the fruit trees bear life for those who break free from ruts and rumbles to bite deeply the flesh of the future? I can’t stand here though I love so many in this line, I cannot love the line itself. I must step through, breathe, stretch my legs and mind, take leave of grids and locks, to live a lonelier but healthier life, all caused by a change in direction.


Enjoy change like flowers before the fruit.

*

Kicks


New balance is more than a brand of sneakers.
New balance is a joyful revelation
made possible through constant vigilance.

I am tap dancing into a vision,
no more soft shoed wishfulness.
I can lift my feet knowing I can keep my up right posture;
my musculature robust from climbing
the steps and accepting direction.

This bright tempo delights me;
I feel stretched, subtle, able-bodied.
Life off the balance beam offers me the world
in which to embrace my equilibrium.

September 29

DEATH PRACTICE


“Why do you practice death like it were a skill? Do you fear you lack ability? Or, because it’s your goal, have you made it your hobby?”
Beleaguered by the questions of my sponsor I search quickly for some believable response. “I confused calm with death and thought I was practicing the former…..Death came for a holiday, how could I refuse it?…..It’s a test drive, if I like it I can keep it.” My sponsor doesn’t think I’m funny.
“Check your motives, wants and desires. Make sure death is what you really want, that it’s not just your fallback position because you fear life. Don’t get me wrong, I hope death is a good thing, but why try to chew tomorrow’s food when your plate is full of today?


Ride change.
*

Moniker


The Hurt carry on the tradition,
would never think to give it up,
don’t even know there is that option,
strap on their weapons without a second thought.

How can there be a second thought
when there never was a first.
Hurt is a reflex
and it moves its way through the world
like dominoes tumbling;

Everything’s knocked down
before you ever saw it standing.
So, what’s the use anyway?
So, I fall down and in that action push you forward
and we are all together in the mud.

But it is so hard to recognize anyone in the mud,
including myself and especially you.
If I hurt you that makes it hard for me to see
anything about you except my wish for your departure,

Which I subconsciously hope will take away the guilt
I can’t afford to feel.
If I make it out of the mud I can’t afford anything,
but if I don’t pay up I’ll be in new mud soon,

So I must break tradition
and the first step toward that is seeing it
and the second is calling it by its name.

September 30

WEE HOURS



In the wee hours I hear the high pitched wail, the tiny pest whining in my ear, the onset of my thin stretched nerves reaching their end. A few more hours are required of me tonight. I rally my spirit and lift the edges of my willing resolve. Long slow nights carry me to the far corners of my mind. I am more average than I had imagined or hoped for. The commonness of four AM brings the base to disclosure, the charmed exposure of predawn wakefulness. The fuzzy vibrations in my brain make me feel deep and real, vulnerable to all the normal limitations of nature and caprice. The sun will rise, ending this night. My sentry over, I will fall to earth, and rest, and bed.


Change everything, change yourself.
*


No Substitute for Fire
I wanted alcohol to do better for me than burning did.
I was constantly disappointed, yet I kept trying.
I was not to find pleasure in that bottle
though I had no problem finding addiction there.

This is how I came to believe
that there is not an upside to everything.
Booze took me to surprising destinations,
but never the ones I desired.

I sought release,
the release I got from a wildfire spreading across my skin
and this might have been mine
had I poured the liquor on rather than in.

But in me it did no good,
it never let me exhale
the way that the “right” kind of pain did.
What I got from alcohol drove me though;

Fear rode me roughshod and I found my way home,
it was a bumpy road,
but once there we doused the flames
and I live the upside I had come to doubt,
because fire is no substitute for life.

October 1

OLD BOOKKEEPING, NEW PAINTING


What will become of the fine lines I use to divide good news from bad? How will I handle a life with no screen to keep the silt from shifting across my personal landscape? A delicate crosshatch had kept little checks in little boxes; now the checks are bouncing randomly, no pattern or restraint. My old bookkeeping has come to an abrupt end, leaving many questions and much uncertainty. I lift the green visor from my brow, looking for answers from the periphery. Taking the long view I put down my pencil and pick up my paints, sling the easel over my shoulder and walk away from meticulous survival. The fine lines I have now are in my brush strokes and even bad news is somehow good.


Donate some time.


*


Saltbox House

Refusing to make reasonable demands
is quite as dysfunctional as making unreasonable demands.
The opposite of an extreme is often twice as crazy
and harder to explain.

I open my mouth and dry toast is the reply.
Nothing should be said when nothing can be done
and to do nothing is harder than one might think.

I fold my hands but my lap rejects them;
I quiet my mind but my soul objects.
I must let my heart sing
and trust you enough to ask for help.

October 2

A LITTLE EXTRA HOPE


“What will you do with a little extra hope?” asked my quizzical sponsor.
“What good is a little hope?” my retort.
“A little hope got you sober. What can you do with a little more? Could you take out your dreams and fly them on a breeze? Could you throw yourself into a wave of intention and see if you can ride it out? Breathe easier, smile broader? Take my hand tighter and walk the road awhile longer before you run for refuge? Now let me ask you a better question. What couldn’t you do with a little more hope?”
“Fail.”


Wash as a meditation.
*

Sackcloth

Tragedy is a tale unfinished.
Life is far longer than calamity can endure.
I will not give up, not even when hope is lost.

For life carries forward;
more is filled with optimism.
Threads break, but the fabric is woven still,
flowing off the living loom waiting to be used.

I will cut my swath and fashion a garment to wear
and if sometimes it is filled with ashes
I will sit and grieve
all the while knowing that this is never the stories end.

October 3

SEAM ALLOWANCE


The space given and taken, the space used to bind us and sew us fast.
The permission for humanness and the need for seams to make us whole. The narrow margin, a shoulder on which I lean, the slender strip a place of refuge.

Darts are snipped to hug the curves; I bend to fit to life.
Our nearness; being my own part and part of more.
Planning, and a pattern cut to order with allowances made for fraying and fragility, allow me to feel woven into a web of what is and still hope for more. The unfinished garment is taking shape, easing and stretching.

And before my eyes, pins held between the teeth of God.


Keep strong words on a high shelf you have access to.

*
Have Faith
Strange and wonderful tragedy
takes you away from me
and I don’t know how it is that you return,
but you do and I thank God,

But I’m not sure it was God’s idea
that you went away or that you came back,
though, I am sure, He missed you every bit as much as I did.

I revolve the freshness of you in my mouth like candy;
I swirl, but don’t want to crack open.
Honeymoons are for people who live comprehendible lives;
we fly to each other and cling like raptors plummeting to the ground.

You leave your mark upon me I do the same for you;
we are none the worse for the wear.
I stand in the gush from the hydrant,
soaked in the pleasure, forgoing the safety.

The world may burn down again tomorrow,
I remember that it has before, but I am wiser for the singeing
and weathered with soot in my eyes and charcoal piled roundabout my legs,
yet I’m still standing and you are back from the dead
and I think of you as Lazarus.

And now we will live the comedy
for life is what lay ahead,
we took the hit of death before its time
and so must be off the hook for the rest.

October 4

BELLS



The bells are ringing but no one sings. There are no peals of laughter and that’s just fine, for pleasure is not the only response to sound. Shock and distain are other options, too. I have what I want in relationship to the buzz in my ear, equal opportunity attitude, pro and con. Some songs bring joy when they end. I have to lower my expectation of pleasure and value my distaste for tinkling sounds or any other preordained sweetness.


See through your problems.
*

Jeopardy
Today I tore down the isolation booth.
I didn’t live in there exactly;
sometimes I stuffed God in there
and went out for a ride.
I left that shack stand for far, too long;
a testimony to ill conceived,
ham-handed, control freaks everywhere.

I said all I wanted was some peace,
but a vacuum is not tranquility
and escape won’t substitute either.

Since the live studio audience has gone home
and the house lights are dimmed,
I feel pretty foolish for playing
round after round on my own.

This game was never any fun
and the sponsors were death merchants and scavengers
whose interest lay in destruction and nothing else.

I must not cast aspersions, I didn’t care
that the contest was merely an upright pit
with a lethal pendulum, I used it as a hideout and a lair,

A place whose walls
I could keep between me and my Higher Power
and an activity I could depend on
to keep me free from living a life.

It all came to the ground today;
I walk over the splinters and shards,
I know there has to be a better game
and I’m ready to play.

October 5

WHAT IS PAST


The past cannot hold me in a loving embrace. I run too often looking for affection and recognition in things long dead and purportedly buried. I return to the ghoulish obsession of digging up old hates and sorrows, longing for support and finding only the cause of the ulcers in my soul. I wallpaper the crumbling facade not wanting to cover it up but to hold it together, trying to unify something, which is totally shattered. When I view it with a sober eye, the past is nothing but a slideshow under a strobe light. The pulse triggers the impulsive belief that it was all real when, in truth, it was the lie I survived. No life existed in the past and only now is there air to breathe. The past is all vacuum and I don’t need to be sucked away.


Take an enemy’s inventory and don’t give it back.


*
MCBuddLake


Barefoot smokers sit downstairs
chatting on cell phones as I wait.
Wait for the Doctor to come and tell me what?

Tell me that I am ill or hail
based on a hammer hit on the knee
and a deep look into my eyes.

I will leave this place hours late
for a life I barely understand
but am grateful to be living.

Like one of the dancing flowers from Fantasia
I am swept downstream,
but an amazing journey even while I wait
in this six by eight room.

October 6

REMEMBERING


Remembering is the oxygen my brain pumps to my soul. Remembering gives me mobility and traction. Everything in my life that is positive depends on my remembering. It keeps apathy at bay and complacency locked in some far off cupboard. Remembering gives today the misty sweetness I have grown to love. I can live to my potential and enjoy the process, watch misery move away. I can dream the future every night because I remember who I am and what I am capable of. Never can I be haunted, memory keeps me from reactionary visitation. Though some fear the past, I know holding it in a close embrace allows me to dance to the rhythm of truth.


Think of names for your sneakers.
*

What Oliver Could not Know


One of the complications of being an orphan
is not learning about the failings and foibles
which visit themselves on all parents.

Living estranged from God has this same blind spot.
When you live with someone day in and day out
you understand their dimensions;

Depravation causes celebrity
and the casting of very large shadows
in some very odd places.

The intimate knowledge of a guardian
allows for relaxation and experimentation.
Isolation creates an overload of anticipation;

Fear of risk and the yearning for attention
swing a pendulum to the point of weaponry.
Familiarity is a breeding ground,
which means many things grow.

Life in a vacuum is devoid of life
and nothing grows up.