July 30


DEFINITIONS


I am close to my Higher Power but I have no words to describe It. I have found it best to say nothing unless asked. When I do speak, it is always about the path I took or the way I held my face. I know the things that changed, and the wind that blew. This is not the sketch most people seek. My skin is brown and my smile broad; this is not from over-exposure to beams of light. Closeness warms me. I glow from standing near. I know the face and form is different for every day; I must not stop for definitions.


Taste silence and smell the words.
*




The Acts of Hope

I cover my head when I pray
in hopes that God wants me sheltered.
I attend meetings to keep alive the hope
that sobriety is the end of isolation.

I talk to the people in my network
hoping I have something helpful to share.
I sit down to the blank page with hopes
that HP still chooses to collaborate with me.

I pick up my paintbrush filled with hope
that color is still my friend.
I inhale air along with hope that each breath
is worth the effort and I am worthy of this life.


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

July 31

MY BABIES


Too often I have abandoned the infants of my creativity to doorways and charities. Having little patience I did not raise them to their intended station. Joyful parentage need not stop at the cutting of the cord. Downplaying the importance of each birth, I would leave beauty and art to be foundlings and the province of others. I can share the guardianship of these precious gifts and be more than a brood mare for cunning and craft. I have neglected things apparent for the promise of each new conception. Overpopulation weakens the body of my work and leaves my portfolio listless and immature.


Touch your finger with your nose.
*

Charmed by Snow


Warm weather snow falls in fat full flakes;
I am living in a world of dreams and sweet peas.
Sudden dustings sparkle and surprise
leaving as quickly as they came;
yet the world is kinder now.

Beauty is an ambush of the heart.
My breath alters, accelerates,
speeding me to a smile, an illustration of joy.

Crows walk the edge of the hedgerow,
prattling on as they do;
snow to their ankles and food on their minds.
I drive over the mountains
discovering myself as the recipient,
the receiver of all this great gift, this life.


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

August 1

GAME PLAYING

My Higher Power doesn’t play me like a board game, doesn’t monopolize my time or put me in jeopardy. My trouble is my own. I pursue trivia at my discretion. I take or reject risk at will. I scrabble my thoughts and am sorry when I make mistakes but don’t expect to live in a candyland. When I stick my hand in the mouse trap, or fall down the shoots and need to climb the ladders, I know the game may not be over, but it is far too late to play let’s make a deal.


Keep a game with you.

*
Porcellano


Some days I feel like a porcelain doll;
hard head, hard hands, hard feet
and everywhere else is soft, gormless.

I feel useless and act out my feelings,
stumbling through a day of pointless inactivity.
I know that I belong on a shelf
or propped upon the pillows of a bed,
not fine enough for curio or collection,
merely someone of marginal decorative value.

I have gotten away from the meaning of me,
the thrum of God’s intentions
and am trapped in this world of elaboration;
everything is embellished and nothing is real.

It is time to put my foot down.
To feel the earth solid and right;
to catch my mind and take it out
of its greasy spin from what is descent.

I am not a China doll
and it is time to walk away
from these purloined thoughts

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

August 2

TOOTH FAIRY


I slide my hand under the pillow and am disappointed not to find a quarter. I feel I deserve one though I didn’t leave a tooth; I did leave my bite. I’ve toned down my bark a bit too. It has not been easy; I have spent much of my life snapping and growling at the world around me. I have shortened the leash on these reactive behaviors, many I have put to bed all together. Improved conduct is prize enough but I surely would enjoy a winged visitor if only just for fun.


Applaud your performance.
*

In Plain Sight

When there is a problem, I hide.
As the good places diminish
I end up standing behind a pole.

The trouble with this is
that something always sticks out.
I try weight loss, I suck in my tummy,
I try to blend with the scenery.

Once spotted I act nonchalant;
“I’m just hanging around with my skinny friend;
nothing is the matter,” attempting to cover
with a casual aside what is apparent to everyone but me.

I would be better off parading naked
than endeavoring this piteous disguise.
I can’t fool the crowd and trying to makes a fool of me.

What I have forgotten is that clarity and diligence
removes the target from my back
and makes me invisible to almost everyone.
When I solve my problem I solve this problem too.


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

The insanity that precedes the first drink - I thought that had been removed from me but I was dead wrong. In a moment of intense emotional pain, it was back - calling me to numb my feelings. I was just sitting in a bowling alley - one with three bars. Everyone around me seemed to be drinking without any problem. I watched the lady across the room take a drink of her Pina Colada. "I think I need a drink," I said out loud to no one in particular. "The Watermelon Margaritas are excellent," said my friend who did not know I was in the program of Alcoholics Anonymous. My friend was proud of me because I had finally furthered my career and would be making more money. She had no idea of the obstacles I had to overcome to get where I was today. She didn't know about the loss of career, the DWIs, the disappointment I had caused my family and friends over and over again. "We should go let off some steam and drink a few one night," she said. "Yeah," I replied, knowing in my heart that I had never "drank a few." I was panicked. I really wanted a drink right now. Less than two days away from my 5 year sobriety date - the most time I had ever put together - and I wanted a drink. "I'm going to get us cokes," I said. I really was thirsty but I'm just going to have a coke. As I approached the bar and saw the bottles lined up behind the counter, the thought crossed my mind that I could do a shot real quick and no one would ever know. My parents who were so proud of me for staying sober and finally advancing my career would never have to know. My young daughter who was counting on me to be there for her would never have to know. The people at meeting would never have to know on Birthday Night. But I knew I would know. And I knew that it wouldn't stop with just one drink. How would I get home? Would I drive my daughter home drunk? What if I got that third DWI and went to prison? What about my new job? "Two cokes and a refill on the Dr. Pepper," I said. I went back to the table. "I have to tell you something," I said to my friend. "I can't drink. I will have 5 years sober in Alcoholics Anonymous on Monday."

August 3

SHARING


Please take a bite of my PB&J. I made it myself. It is fine as it is. I slathered the bread and cut it so neatly; still I can’t help but want to offer some to you. I know that to stand and smile next to you, watch you lick the peanut butter from the roof of your mouth, have you dab the jelly from the corner of my lips, will make this sandwich even better. You bring so much to this meal, something bright and so clever. You bring you. I can pull things together and set it all up but somehow my creation is never quite complete until I share it with you.


Withhold a convoy of criticism, advance a brigade of cheer.
*

Big Name

My name has a foreign sound;
my head turns when it is called.
I recognize this as training not identity.

I remember teaching the dog her name.
I called it while petting and praising her,
soon the name was hers.

Now, I think of God.
Did we call long and loud enough
to trigger name recognition on a vast intangible?

Is this how we tagged and labeled the unknowable;
assigned it a place on a shelf;
somewhere to be called up from?

Does the noise sound as strange as the syllables
of my name sound to me?
Does it matter as long as we answer?



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

I made it! I have 5 years sober today! These past few months have been the craziest ever. I was plagued with fear of success and self-sabotaging behaviors. I have had many periods of sobriety these past 30 years but this is the longest. I breathe a sigh of relief as I begin my 6th year and a new chapter in my life.

August 4


ACCESS

Writing to you, my Sweet, allows me to give what I have available at the moment it comes into my possession. You reading me lets you invite me in when you are ready or willing, possibly both. I can store succulent treasure for you without the least consideration of freezer burn or apathy. You are here when I want you, yearning and prepared. I am yours for the taking in the classroom, the bedroom, or even in your bath. I can whisper or shout to you, rant or tell jokes at you. You can embrace or ignore me, introduce me to friends or keep me your own personal province. We are intimates because I bare my soul to you and you take me into yours.


Recommend your assets.
*

Sleep Tight

Did you dream?
Sleep the sleep of faultless souls?
Or twist the sheets
as in that Gilbert & Sullivan treatment?

Are night time wrestlings an indication
of decadent daytime activity?
Or is it all simply a matter of happenstance?
Possibly something I ate, thought, wished for?

I think to myself,
I should not have gotten into that unmade bed,
should have made it up; the bed and my mind,
should have straighten out the crumpled mass
of discarded dreams from yesterday and started fresh

But instead I climbed in with it all tumbled and tossed,
lumpy and coarse, no smooth sailing in this tangled sea.
What time I would have saved by leveling
the playing field and plumping the pillows.

All is not lost, there is always tonight.
Sweet dreams straight ahead


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

Being honest and standing up for myself is one of the hardest things for me. Being such a people pleaser, it is extremely painful. But I know in my heart, that if I do not do it, I will not make it in the program. To Thine Own Self Be True.

I love how hearing something at a meeting can spark something in my own head. Last night the speaker and another person sharing talked about how once they put down their binge/trigger foods (my substance of choice,) all the feelings they'd ever had in their entire life came crashing down on them at once. After that happened, one woman said the thought came to her that "[eating] this will make me feel better."

The spark in my head said, "it won't make you feel better, it'll make you feel LESS."

Something important for me to remember on days when I struggle. Thanks for "listening."

And congratulations EnchantedNightDweller, that's awesome!

August 5



STUBBORN


When the donkey won’t move forward it’s time to stop running. No need to make an ass of myself through force or coercion. The dumb animal may be mute but its actions speak. Reluctance is a warning. If my animal nature is balking, listening not shoving is the preferred course. Super intelligence can’t best good horse sense. I must stand with my intuition; that creature depends on my survival for life.



Balance your shoe with your foot.
*

What are We Fighting For

Instead of competition for dominance
we would benefit from cooperation for survival.
The struggle to become the very best destroyers in the world
very well might make us postmortem champions.

Why is it that the lions don’t work to eradicate hyenas?
They could, but they don’t.
Why not, is the ever present question on my mind.

I have no answer as to why we strive to conquer.
A thousand platitudes come to mind,
but nothing fast or tight, nothing that holds water.
So, the question remains; why are we hell bent?



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

Just had a major moment of clarity while driving home. A sure sign that you are doing something that's not good for you is when you don't share it with your sponsor. You don't share it, because you know she will ask you those questions that make you think about what you are doing. And then you will realize just how insane your thinking really is.

"We realized that the people who wronged us were perhaps spiritually sick. Though we did not like their symptoms and the ways these disturbed us, they, like ourselves, were sick too. We asked God to help us show them the same tolerance, pity, and patience that we would cheerfully grant a sick friend. When a person offended us, we said to ourselves, "This is a sick man. How can I be helpful to him? God save me from being angry. Thy will be done."

Alcoholics Anonymous - How It Works p. 66 - 67

This quote has literally saved my ass a couple times.

How can we, as recovering people, hold anger and resentment towards others who are us?? We just can't. Even when it's right in your face and personal as all get out.

Thanks for posting it. I obviously needed a reminder :doh:

A 4th Step Resentment Prayer:
"God, Please help me to be free of anger and to see that the world and its people have dominated me. Show me that the wrong-doing of others, fancied or real, has the power to actually kill me. Help me to master my resentments by understanding that the people who wrong me were perhaps spiritually sick. Please help me show those I resent the same Tolerance, Pity and Patience that I would cheerfully grant a sick friend.** Help me to see that this is a sick man. Father, please show me how I can be helpful to him and save me from being angry. Lord, help me to avoid retaliation or argument. I know I can’t be helpful to all people, but at least show me how to take a kindly and tolerant view of each and every one. Thy will be done."(66:2, 66:3, 66:4, 67:0, 67:1)

**Dear God, I have a resentment towards a person that I want to be free of. So, I am asking you to give this person everything I want for myself. Help me to feel compassionate understanding and love for this person. I pray that they will receive everything they need. Thank you God for your help and strength with this resentment. (BB, Freedom from Bondage: 552)

These instructions are for the above prayer (Big Book, Freedom from Bondage, p. 552):
'If you have a resentment you want to be free of, if you will pray for the person or the thing that you resent, you will be free. If you will ask in prayer for everything you want for yourself to be given to them, you will be free...Even when you don't really want it for them, and your prayers are only words and you don't mean it, go ahead and do it anyway. Do it every day for two weeks and you will find you have come to mean it and to want it for them, and you will realize that where you used to feel bitterness and resentment and hatred, you now feel compassionate understanding and love.'
You can, also, include the Freedom from Bondage Prayer in the 4th Step Resentment Prayer.


I use this instruction and the prayers a lot :cheesy:

:tea:

Your welcome! It's my favorite prayer in the Big Book, lol, I guess because "resentments are the #1 offender"! That and finance and romance. I needed it as a reminder for myself today.:praying:

Rule 62 - Don't take yourself too seriously! :huhlaugh:

August 6

ALICE


Because I even wore out my welcome at the Mad Hatter’s house, I can sit on my hands at my sponsor's table and listen, listen, listen. If I had been able to make a place for myself with the looking-glass folk, I could never have let myself lose my eccentricities and join in the fellowship. Going down further than a rabbit hole, I lost my need to chase or scramble after bunnies for time or card tricks. No more illusions for me. I am awake and shaded by the tree of AA branching over me. Sisters I didn’t know take my hand.


Dance with change.
*



I didn’t mean to make you laugh


You think I’m witty, well, yes, I have always been like this,
no one knew quite what to do with me as a small child,
but I have grown into this acumen,
or possibly grown out into it, is closer to accurate.

I was dark witted when I was young,
I think of myself as less so now,
optimism is a blessing I have gained through the years,
it feels good and I keep it close.

I need to be a blithe spirit to travel the road I do.
Tears have their place, I know that for sure,
but I rather not go around with a puss on all day and all night.
Additionally it is so much about perspective; you see,
the honey makes the peas taste funny
but now they stick to my knife.


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

I love that and need that! Thank you LWF!

So I partially confessed to a few people about the crazy stuff I've been up to the past few weeks. Now to get up the nerve to tell my sponsor. When she gets done laughing, she's going to pinch me and make me do a lot of Step work. Lol

August 7

PRESTO!

Just because I own pointy boots doesn’t mean I can corral the cows. I have in my possession many things of subtle intent, but they can’t just transform me. The wings from Halloween don’t make me an angel. The Big Book on the shelf won’t sober me up. Nothing holds the magic to change me. I can only change with help. Action, action and more action is the magician's sleight of hand. It slides my hand from glass to grace. I don’t need to pull a rabbit from my hat.


Play with your oatmeal.

*

I Beg

The embarrassment of need
is a haunting guest who will not leave.
I turn in a tight circle trying to find a way
to detach this wart and move gracefully
from the site of devastation.

But it looms large
and overshadows today’s possibilities
and robs tomorrows gold.
What I cannot do for myself,
the magic I cannot yet perform,
stands between me and contentment.

It stands there wearing your face;
touching my mind with your fingertips.
I pray that you are not the answer
for I cannot depend on you.

I think of you and the little bell rings
and I am hungry.
Desire is a gift, desiring you is the burden
whose shadow I cannot escape.

I close my eyes to the light you emit;
I cannot close my heart, all that’s left is pleading;
please come home and fill me or leave
and lock the door and let me grieve in peace.


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

August 8

PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS


There is a penny in the bathtub. I wonder who stood in there with loose change. Possibly confusing it for a wishing well, the penny was tossed in. The stories I could tell the hopes that tantalize my mind, elves and leprechauns, dreamers and optimists all trundle through my thinking. When I don’t know the answer, I can now at least look for the best, the sweetest thoughts. I don’t run to the dark and threatening disasters. I have lost the lease to my personal black cloud, the one that used to follow wherever I went. I can smile now and think of pennies from heaven. The first drop landed in my tub.


Think of what a spider and a whale have in common.
*

Stand- Hear


The spins and pirouettes I have preformed
in an attempt to avoid facing the music,
were impressive but futile and ultimately
delayed the beauty possible for me in this life.

When I stop my running and turn on my heel
there is a world of harmony waiting
to take me for a turn out on the dance floor.

Melody is not what I was expecting.
I was so sure I would be drummed out of my life,
not trumpeted in.

My surety set in motion much of my convoluted activity
and caused me great distress.
It is high time I listen with eyes open
and my reactions leashed;

Allowing the tune to introduce me to life
and lead me to my bliss.



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

"Putting out of our minds the wrongs other had done, we resolutely looked for our own mistakes. Where had we been selfish, dishonest, self-seeking and frightened?" Alcoholics Anonymous p. 67

This concept has been the cornerstone of my recovery. My alcoholic mind will keep me from facing the truth about myself by distracting me with what others are doing. It doesn't matter what others are doing. I can't change other people. I can only change myself. Good meeting last night. Now, for that talk with the sponsor...

"We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us." Alcoholics Anonymous p. 84

I finally told my sponsor about what I had been up to. What she said surprised me, "Sounds like recovery." "No," I said, "It took me too long to let go."
But as I drove to the meeting tonight, I thought of all that had happened and how I had responded. I thought about how I had said, "What kind of an example would I be to my daughter?" These types of thoughts didn't used to come naturally to me. I used to be so selfish. All I cared about was instant gratification, how I could make myself feel better. I didn't think about what would happen to my daughter if I was killed or killed someone else in a car accident. I didn't think of how she would feel if I was in jail. I didn't care if I lost my job and couldn't provide for her. I didn't care that she looked up to me and would model everything that I did. I didn't care that I was her mom and that she was counting on me to do the right thing.
I just couldn't see those things back then, it didn't come to me at all much less "intuitively." Knowing right from wrong and doing the right thing is not always an easy choice for me. Sometimes doing the wrong thing seems so much more attractive until I find myself there. Just like they say that a head full of AA will ruin your drinking, it also will ruin your plans to do the wrong thing.
So I texted my sponsor and told her what I had said and that maybe she was right after all. Maybe it is recovery.

August 9

HAWAIIAN GRAFFITI

White pebbles spell themselves across the black of lava grown cold. Personal announcements proclaim love, school pride, religious freedom. The care of placement and consideration of design make the roadside an ongoing mineral memo. What message would I care to share? What words would prompt me to bring a pail of crushed marble to the edge of the road? Is there a truth so urgent I would take time from paradise to spell it out? A few more miles and I see the words I live by strewn down the thoroughfare, “it works if you work it.”


Joint your possibilities.

*

Pick up Your Hammer and Saw

The task infers the tool, I know this,
yet I resist clearly mapping my insanity.
I look into the well of my despair
then quickly I look away,

I fear informing God what I need
lest the need be filled.
I need to believe that a power will heal me,
but if I am provided with the force of life,
I shrink from the prospect.

This too, must be added to the list
of my emotional woes and mental shortages.
This too, will be healed.

I look at my problems
and then realize, that like the moon,
who pulls the water from dry shore to dry shore,
solutions are installed in heaven and earth
if I know what the problem is.



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

"I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But, it isn't my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in. It's a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

I walk down another street.”

― Portia Nelson, There's a Hole in My Sidewalk: The Romance of Self-Discovery

August 10

MORTIFICATION


Lime with envy, I built a wall around. Love and hate are enclosed, brick and stone. Rigor of extremities, the discipline of ages falls so short. I make no in-depth connections; I coat externals with glue, stack reactions and let the bombs fly. I mix and crush old habits and bad ideas, make a paste. I am setting myself up again. Abstinence becomes the pestle of bludgeoning and abasement. I am hard and I am hollow; with wounded pride, I subjugate my soul. My life is reduced to a powder. I am mortified.


Spread oil from your navel out.
*


Michal Rovner


I have numbered all the blocks in my ancestral walls.
This has enabled me to recreate them
stone by stone everywhere I go.

It all fits to create the tomb I now have to learn to leave.
I must change the equation and reorder the numbers
allowing these rocks to be recycled
and find a wonderful useful life
as a stairway out of this pit of despair.

What was once an edifice to lives unlived
is now able to facilitate elevation,
a restoration of a level playing field.

It was not wrong for me to catalog the stone
and there was no way for me to leave them behind,
but nothing matches the satisfaction of using them to build a life,
except for the ability to live in it.



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

August 11

I KNOW


I know more than I understand. I know more than I let on. I know right from wrong, left from right, uphill from down. I know you have my best interest at heart. I know I often don’t. I know it hurts when I fall but holding on isn’t easy. I know that wanting is not needing and needing is not enough. I know old thinking breeds old action but new thinking is often wild and requires two minds for review. I know to look three ways before crossing the street because trouble sometimes hits head on. I know that if life is the question yes is the answer.


Instruct the youth living within.
*


T before S


When happiness is hard work
I have to learn to look for the lie.
There must be a lie, for happiness flows
unrestrained when not dammed.

What was built too far up river for me to see,
dries out my once liquid existence;
leaving me to flounder in the shallows.

I can’t allow myself to flop in the muck
of waters muddied with deceit.
I will permit myself to look for clear bright prospects
from melting glaciers and accustom myself to the invigoration
of a life lived under a loving watchful eye.


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

"Every time a person imposes his instincts unreasonably upon others, unhappiness follows."
"Demands made upon other people for too much attention, protection, and love can only invite domination or revulsion in the protectors themselves - two emotions quite as unhealthy as the demands which evoked them."

Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions p. 44

August 12

WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS DUCK?


This duck looks fine sitting on the edge, the rubber face frozen in a permanent grin. The appearance is flawless as long as it is not called to duty; no one will ever know. Stay still. Don’t jump. When dropped in the water, this creature, born for the tub, lays on its side, one eye looking at the ceiling, the other straight at the bottom. Floating is occurring but something is oh, so wrong. As indelicate as it may seem this duck needs a very big squeeze, no kid gloves and tender touches. This duck has sucked in old bath water and misused ideas. Only a big push in the right direction will get this rancid stuff out, and though the duck will get bent out of shape there is no reason it can’t bounce back. That’s the wonderful thing about rubber; it is flexible and resilient even if it doesn’t always volunteer.


Set up a lighthouse for the rockiest shores in your life.
*

Seen on the Street


Sometimes graffiti improves a place,
other times it degrades it.
I now wonder; is this defined by the breaking
or breaching of public norms?

Or is it built from the intent of the artist/perpetrator?
Possibly the pedestrian traffic or the light of day
determine the difference between art and recalcitrance.

What if all these factors,
flashing like a neon kaleidoscope
facilitated what this all really means?

What if it all signifies nothing
other than yet another way for me to entertain my brain
while avoiding work?

I guess I better get back to the spray cans,
I have a wall to cover.



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

August 13

HOW RED IS RED


I check my color and contrast; I paint the setting sun. Add a bit of yellow and fill to the edge burgeoning poppies. Add more blue and paint the blood which pools around my mind, the equalizer of all my mental conversations. Too much is never enough. As the story goes, I pursue my shades and signatures. Too much for the fingers and not enough for the toes, I disregard fraudulent crimson. I scale the mountains of intention looking for perfection. The leach of my addiction drains the other colors from my rainbow. My sponsor asks only one question.
“How red is red?”


Allow your thoughts to be neighborly with your feelings.
*

Phillips Head


What’s stuck in makes the thing.
What sticks out is all that’s seen.
I can tell so much from what is left out,
yet there is much I will never know, can never tell.

The twist, the give, the opening to variation
is known, but never acknowledged.
Somehow indecent if spoken
or thought of too loudly, insinuation is ignored

Society allows us to focus on
what is held after or due to this act.
We have built the whole world
on what we can screw together.

But we will merely hallow this,
never embrace the fact until it falls apart.
Then we exclaim over the rawness
of how it caused us to be turned around,

The risk and wrongness,
ignoring just how much good
can come from just a simple screw.

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

August 14

NEVER LET GO


When it grows dark on one side of a transparency the other becomes reflective. When addiction doesn’t hold a flame for me, I see the true face of its results. Because I know now the destructive possibilities, I must print the picture and post it on the wall, for the day may come when addiction appears as a light for me and the mirror will be gone. I need to keep clear the truth even when my eyes lie to me and my sensibilities catch on fire. The glass can be the boundary or the tumbler. The glare of day can be harsh or bright. Light is forever shifting. I cannot count on shadows for predictions. I must know it when I see it, chant it to remember and hold hands and never let go.


Sort advice like laundry.
*


Participant Observer

Underneath it all I am more than naked;
I am hidden by exposure.
My body can never be as nude
as life with you in my thoughts.

My mind is a polygraph you wander through.
I have determined this is more than safe
and unlock the closets.

You are not my warden looking for contraband,
nor the janitor looking for trash,
you are here, you are my friend.

Having a better look around
simply to know me better
and to love me well.

Your unfamiliar stride is exciting,
I show off the places I long for you to see
and stand aside from the rest,
it is all yours to look through.

I do not resist.
You are my peaceful guardian;
I am your willing charge.



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

August 15

THINGS WHICH ARE THICKER THAN WATER

“Pudding, mud, ice cream, cement, sauce, paint, sap, drool, gravy, wood.”
“What is that?" I ask my sponsor.
“A list of things thicker than water. There are so many; why do people get so hung up on blood?” responds my sponsor.
“Survival? Or maybe comfort? Tradition?" I counter.
“I’m sure you’re right. I’m sure there are many benign reasons why we strong-arm one another into relationships with family we may or may not be ready for.”
“You mean the families we drank with?”
“Or sometimes drank to get away from. But it’s not the family; it’s us. We have to learn to do what we need to do. We can’t force ourselves into relations with anyone for any reason other than it’s what is best for our sobriety. Shoulds and oughts have no place in the family situation.”
“So I can just walk away from them one and all?”
“You can’t do anything in that sweep of the wand. In the same vein, don’t obligate yourself to people due to viscosity.”
“Got ya. There has to be a real choice made.”
“Sounds like a promising start.”

Have what you want unless all you want is MORE.

*


The Dark Fantastic


When the tornado touches down worry ends;
the anticipation is over and thought stops.
Tragedy is funny that way.

In the aftermath I find out what mattered
and what didn’t;
whether I have helped or injured myself
trying to plan for the worst.

I fail to realize there are cloud filled days
when nothing happens
and days when trouble comes from out of the blue.

What matters ultimately is if I was happy yesterday
all the way into today until the thunder struck.
Greed is not: living for today;
greed is my attempt at gathering the future
while dragging the past.



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

August 16

I AM


I am my own hope.
The spring of willingness flows within me and makes everything possible.

I am my own dream.
Colors and sprinkles fly in my mind and mix with a sprite's laugh and make me enchanted.

I am my own joy.
Filled with wonder and delight, my quick turns and ready mind warm my heart and pink my cheeks.

I am my own prize.
New and exciting, every day that I am myself,
I win.




Pith is dry and dead, be marrow.
*




Dewy, Cheatum & Howe


I must radically sever the close connection I have
with self-seeking, self-pity and dishonesty.
What will I use to pay the retainer
for the representation I will need to pursue this divorce?

Willingness is the earnest money,
which will start the ball rolling,
hard work pitches in its share
and faith pays the note each day I apply it.

All this and more is what it takes to divide
the endless stream of my compulsive thought
into a survivable day’s worth of life.

I have the prospect of being happy as a divorcee
or I could be a miserable widow
if I stay wed to my disease.



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

:bow:So Beautiful, LeftWriteFemme.

Amazing!
 

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Sherrie, you celebrated twenty seven years of sobriety this week. It's an amazing achievement.

It's a privilege to call you friend

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Much loves y'old-timer you! :raspberry:
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August 17



IN THE PRAIRIE


In the prairie, there are small fenced cemeteries, family plots. The flat expanse of land opens to the eye; hand carved monuments stand in testimony to love and service. In these places grow the wild flowers… bluebells, paintbrush, lupines, and all manner of reedy grasses… these places cordoned off from mechanization and Agra-business. Held in trust are the bones of loved ones and the soul of nature. Deep inside me is a place like this. The place I have buried my young---the little ones who died of shame, neglect, and hurt. And I must return, not to exhume the dead, but to pay tribute. To return with honor and love, harvest the daisies and buttercups, grow them in the garden of my heart. I can tend the flowers that spring from destruction. I can mingle them with the growth of my sober life; restore my prairie to a splendor it has never known. I can enjoy the bounty of saving the seeds worth saving, and planting my Higher Power’s will for me.



Make a list of decoys.
*



Endlessly Moving Maps


I try to survive by memorizing the chaos.
I do well up to five layers deep
and then lose it, as the details become too great.

I am staking my life on my ability to track the patterns
in a storm while at the same time treading water.
I think this skill kept life and breathe in me for many years.

Now I fear I’ll drown in this roiling mass.
I must touch down my tender toes
and learn to walk this twisting path
and keep a pace with this spinning world.

Everything moves and I am overwhelmed.
I have forgotten my flesh and blood nature;
have mistaken myself for a stone, one which dare not roll,
one which has no part in this endlessly moving map.


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

Congratulations on 27 years!:birthdaycake:

Congrats, LWF!