Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

January 4

One Singular Crowd


Isolation among the isolators is replete with metaphor and theme. Expectation blithers loudly but is drown by the palpable inevitability of the outcome. I pirouette in a room filled with dancers but we do not touch, we just spin near one another full view but little contact. Yet I hear my heart beating in my ear and know that I am alive. The flush of neighboring cheeks attests to duplicate conditions there. We are moving together sometimes in harmony but other times in antipathy, dependant all the same. We are the army of independent meanings. Individual cases sharing one slender goal but that’s all that we need.



If you can’t find the grape try some jelly.




~

THE BOAT

On my ride home from work there's a boat stuck between two trees
In the middle of a horse pasture
Next to a riverbed so dry it's filled with grass.
I think the boat is me.

I feel for the boat every time I see it.
Turned on edge, waiting for a river which doesn't exist anymore
And may never exist again
Placed on edge for protection, not comfort.

Although having my bottom rot out
Well, let's just say, might be more uncomfortable
What good will I be even if the river runs again
Since I'm fenced in?

If my Higher Power has a plan
If it includes a river and a fence
If I'm in this plan, me, the row boat
I just don't see it.

Not seeing my purpose in life is a theme in my life
Truth is, I don't want to face the fact, I might float away
Even though I'm supported by two big trees
Even though there is a tall fence around me.

Completely in spite of the fact
THERE IS NO WATER
My Higher Power loves me.
I AM THE BOAT

[LeftWriteFemme]

January 5


Time’s Temperament



Bubbling tides of white water, time roils past me and my protests go unheard. Physic feedback loops revisit raw moments to me with inopportune exactitude. The beautiful droplets of dawn rain down then evaporate leaving another day’s timeline to fan out before me. The alternating fury and jubilation of passing intervals leaves a challenge, first a question of bend or break, second a call to forecast. Can I flex or will I live in pieces? Shall I look at patterns and strive for harmonious waltz or turn my face from the calendar dreading each trice? Bully or benefactor time rolls. I can go with it or be under it that choice is mine.



Orbit order



~

THE FLOCK

Today I came to a place in the road covered with birds
The nearby field - covered in birds - the trees covered.
As I approached the birds took wing
The flock responded to my presence
Each bird flew - the sky darkened with their flight.

Wave upon wave, boundaries intact
Taking action in the face of obstacle.
The gift of instinct displayed for me as I fly to my meeting
My instinct rehab, I am learning my intuition
My sponsor spoons it to me from the steps.

I suck it down never knowing what it is about the process
That makes me better
Anymore then I know how grain and bugs make birds fly.
I have theories, things I roll in my fingers when I'm nervous.
I get glimmers.

Things my Higher Power sparkles in my eyes for a treat.
In truth, I don't know how, I don't need to know
Anymore than birds need to know lift to weight ratios.
When I respond to life events
When I spend less time self-concerned I am closer to self.

"Aren't we spiritually centered?" Quips my sponsor
"Yes" I reply "One day in a row."
"I'm going for the record."
"That's all the birds have."
"You're doing as well as they." she smiles and pats my back

[Tommi]

Originally Posted by LeftWriteFemme

January 4
THE BOAT

On my ride home from work there's a boat stuck between two trees
In the middle of a horse pasture
Next to a riverbed so dry it's filled with grass.
I think the boat is me.

I feel for the boat every time I see it.
Turned on edge, waiting for a river which doesn't exist anymore
And may never exist again
Placed on edge for protection, not comfort. ....

Not seeing my purpose in life is a theme in my life
Truth is, I don't want to face the fact, I might float away
Even though I'm supported by two big trees
Even though there is a tall fence around me. ....

Completely in spite of the fact
THERE IS NO WATER
My Higher Power loves me.
I AM THE BOAT

Post on my birthday. Jan. 4

I have loved "The Boat" for years. And seeing the actual boat that promted it in NJ was amazing.

Thanks for keeping the light on. Getting close to my other celebration of Jan. 7 and being around other program members last night, young and old, I know how precious this One Day At a Time is. I remember getting sober 12,416 days ago one day at a time like it was yesterday.

33 years , 11 months and 29 days later, I am the same person, but with a soul that's healthy, alive and well. So glad to be sober, and a beacon for those stlll out there and a lifesaver to those hanging on by that slim rope.

[LeftWriteFemme]

January 6


Hand Me Down Pain


You have sent a cold thing into my heart it causes my feet to move me away from you. It need not be spoken of this is a thing of ice and lead. Words are no help here action is the only cure. Eternity can be spent with a soul bisected by slivers. Stepping the willing way to joy and freedom seems so unlikely from this frosty local. Make my mind up I must. Close my eyes and move forward. I will leave your pain behind me I hope not to have to leave you.

Kiss tiny pebbles and roll them away



~

HELP FROM STRANGE SOURCES

I cannot get my mind wrapped around the places I find help.
I struggle with believing I have been helped.
I struggle with disbelief at my own resistance.
I am helped daily by many tiny things seen and unseen.
I realize now I was injured by the same tiny things.
When I was misaligned with my Higher Power
The sun rising, the tiny star I circle in this great nothingness
It makes my whole day.
The air hanging around just in case I need it,
Which I often do.
The people who live with me, a mean feat.
The people who work with me.
Those who exist here with me keep my ship on course,
How sweet of them to do mostly right everyday of their lives,
What a help that is.
The whole ecosystem and all the weather
What would I do without it?
But this is on a good day,
On a bad day, the sun is in my eyes and scorching my skin,
The air is too still, or well, the wind is always a problem.
And people, people are an endless plight,
People do things to hurt, annoy and irritate me,
Full intent, targeted to me, my life, my wants destroyed.
Bugs seek me and I am followed by the darkest cloud,
Everyday, all day, lurking.

I AM SO THANKFUL FOR A SPONSOR AND A TENTH STEP

[LeftWriteFemme]

34 years ago my Daddy found an alternate route home by passing the plan hys addiction had for hym. I am so fortunate to have met hym on this path!!!!




My Daddy is the coolest ever!!














Happy Sober Birthday!!!





all my love, the girl

[LeftWriteFemme]

January 7


Dion


Everything in the world happened before I was born and the cinders sift through my fingers. Accomplishing cohesion of the ashes is a goal I have not yet achieved. Cremains precious but meager are a difficult building material, shifting due to emotions and wind, I find they stick too well to my lungs and not well enough to anything else. Tears help, but I will not cry forever. I must draw from a fresh water source and wet the powdery scratch I have inherited and form the world anew.


Use caution when interacting with the crème de la crème this may trigger intolerance



*


OLD GOLDFISH

I got them when my sobriety was new.
They were tiny little guys, ten cent feeders.
I wanted my stepson to sleep soundly
In our strange jumble of a home, fresh from purchase.

The tank sat on a dresser under his elevated bed
Space to fit my hand to feed them
No space for baby boy to climb in
I loved my goldfish.

There is never a NO with goldfish
Feed them as often as you want
Let the water get cold
Put them in a big space, small place, plants, no plants.

NO was so hard, I hate and fear No.
I am hard, fish are easy.
Tears and mesmerizing aquarium
Meetings and steps.

I could not keep myself alive
I don't know how I kept the fish fed.
The program kept me going,
Kept hope flowing and the fish swam.

In this century when we are finally outliving wild goldfish
We are sober together,
By the grace of Higher Power, in this century.
It's been a wonderful time.

I am grateful to be here with the goldfish.
I am grateful the goldfish are here for me.
Expecting so little
Maybe I could return the favor

[Tommi]

What it was like: What a sobering thought. I did ride those dangerous bikes, I did chase with the CHP on the LA Freeways. I did dance and fuck the years away with girls I never knew , but for that fucking experience, another high.

My biggest excursions from the past I used to have SOME memory of.

It did not scare me to wake up and not remember the night or day before.

Did not care about the headaches, or what people told me. Did not care if I went to work dizzy, if I went at all. I didn't care that my Mother and I , and her girlfriend were homeless and lived in a park near Disneyland. Didn't care that I made money from spending time...with older women in the Hollywood Hills.

It did not concern me that hanging and retching over some filthy stinking toilet bowl in any dirty bar I could get to, if I was fortunate to make it that was not a normal thing when I drank. It just seemed to give me more room to drink again, when I woke up. At those times, I was the party animal, the social bad boy who could leap tall girls in a single bound. I was loved and I loved, or ...so I thought.

The startling pictures of me trapped beside a porcelain throne and the wall is one of my startling wake up photo's. They told me they wera about to call the fire department, because i was so stuck. They did not, but took the time to take pictures, and let me sleep it off right there. I never recalled it, but looked at the ugly pictures of a drunk and realized THAT WAS ME, and I did not look like I was having a good time.

I did care about the holes punched in walls, the wrath when i turned on those I loved, who took the blunt of the unhappy drunk. I did care about the money I wasted over many years, over many people. I did care when I caught my partner cheating on me and almost killed that other person. I moved out and left the house to her. I did care after another nasty breakup, that I had to file bankruptcy and I left her keep the house. Signed a Quit Claim deed for a dollar.


What it is like now:
Since then, the sober walk taught me, I can dance...even better, because I don't fall. I choose the time and place to crash. The memory isn't affected by alcohol and drugs, but..where DID I PARK my car, is a common thing I hear. Where my keys are is important..and what I had for dinner two days ago don't matter. If I forget your name, I may remember where we were, and what you were wearing.

and as for the Love/s in my life. I remember all the loving beautiful, and sexual creatures I have been blessed to be with. I found my bio-family to be accepting of who the sober me is. I found my chosen family to be the best people on the Planet, whether or not they are sober or not, and I get to be surrounded by those I choose. My Ex of 21 years, and I raised a beautiful daughter, who had a small wonderful wedding , and now 5 years later, I have two amazing, Grandkids.

I was able to go back to school and work, and back to school while I worked 3 jobs, and and, I loved school, so ..well two Master's Degrees later, I now enjoy the career path started after the USAF. I was helped by the strong character of a mother who got sober the same time I did. I had the help of loved ones that knew I could make it. Have healthy relationships with Ex's and my family/s.

Now, I just do the fun stuff, travel, do photgraphy, plant a garden, and mow the lawn, and move the rocks, and take fun sculpting and art classes for the fun of using the kiln and racks, and being with other artists.

I have a career that gives me joy, pleasure and helps others as I have been helped. Security of a job which I will choose the date when I leave. My own home in the safest city in America for the past 6 years, and many people in my life that are pure and sound, and loving. I have a girl I met on-line that adores me, loves writing and art too, accepts this LDR, and I adore in my own sobering selfish way-Plus she has been sober for over twenty years. She posts here, and other places every day in her giving back service to those that may join her on the path.

I am thrilled to be the designated driver. I am uplifted to travel and attend an AA meeting with total strangers , and feel at home, and who for that time are not picking up, offering hugs with no strings attached, and of course drink a cup of that famous AA coffee.

Tonight, I will take my chip from someone who is probably new to the program, and doing service because they were told it is good to do. Who is probably younger than the years I have been sober. They will be scared of someone with so many years, and don't know if they could ever do it. I will tell them.

Just For Today, we are sober together, and hope to see them again as we trudge this road of happy destiny. My God has blessed me in many ways, and for 12, 418 days, or 1072949261. 62 , 63 hearbeats i have been one of millions doing it One Day at a Time.....

Check yours out here->

[LeftWriteFemme]

January 8


Lathe


Turning into a spin, the edge cuts into my misconceptions, the point sharp and accurate to a fault digs into the excess I carry around, keeping me from my useful purpose. A good eye and steady hand are needed lest breakthrough ruin me. Not that all is ever lost for a spoon with a hole in the bowl will stir a soup smooth. Relinquishing my burdens and trusting the carvers tools and methods takes great commitment. I am carved commitment or no, but things turn out better when I don’t flinch.

If you can’t make hay then mow the lawn

*

IN A BACKWATER

There is a place so removed, uninspired, ignorance flourishes
I hate to go there.
I avoid it when I can
Today I could not avoid it.
Today I saw the gable end of a small barn
Half hidden in the scrub trees.
On the face of the gable end are two plywood cutouts
They are large, taking up the major portion of the space.
The first is a budgie, a bright blue parakeet, 7 or 8 feet tall.
It is tilted to it's side, it looks dyslexic but intriguing
Above it is a cutout of a black guitar, similar in length.
Hanging long ways across the top, almost from eve to eve.
I don't know what it means.
Why they are there.
Who could have put them there.
A story is there,
Just sticking it's tongue out at me.
I can hardly bear it.
I think of God and laugh.
If my God has nothing better to do then tease me,
I need a better God.
I think of my Higher Power and wonder if the power is curious too.
Am I overlapping a layer of consciousness I have no part in?
Is this subliminal previews of my future?
Am I too nosey for my own good?
I just don't know
It could be something all together different
I have only time.
Time will tell in the end it always does.
I hate to wait

[LeftWriteFemme]

January 9


Crestfallen


“Whoa is me, I have crested the rise only to slide down the other side. Hard work and determination culminated in victory but alas it was short lived. Success is barely meaningful if it is permanent. Poor, poor dear, I will have to strive once more at the face of a new challenge or even worse might have to make another run at this one. How shall I ever bear it?” I lament, my sponsor smiles.
“Are you learning to be amused at yourself or hoping to bring back melodrama to the everyman?” She queries.
“A little of both I think, whining is a consolation to me,” I reply.
“It’s nice that you’re not doing it at me, but even nicer that you have let your achievements teach you to laugh at your mishaps,” says my sponsor with a kiss to my forehead.

Butter both sides of your intentions



*


BREAKING MY OWN GLASS

The police of a small town caught a serial glass breaker today.
The man who owned a plate glass repair shop
Was breaking store front windows.
I break my own.
I go through my life, I slash my own tires
And break my own glass.
I fear continuity, stability, success.
I love damage control, making arts and craft from my slivers and shards
"Think what you could do with undamaged goods." Says my sponsor
I don't know how to do anything with undamaged goods
Except damage them or give them to others.
"Saddest thing I've ever heard." she counters
I can make a quilt from discarded clothes, mosaics from shattered dishes
A collage from junk mail and rescue every stray on the block,
See the potential in every person in a crowded hall
And hold your hand and cheer you on.
"What have you done for you lately?" my sponsor taunts
She is making my point, what can I do for me?
Search and destroy?
Live outside myself?
I have to be sober to be me, I can't go around making a mess
Just so I have something familiar to wallow in.
What if I can't do anything fresh?
"Learn to market the retreads.' she says