Friends of Bill W.

[RockOn]

partial quote of Sherrie's last post:

"I start my gratitude list.
Beginning with my sobriety"

As a person in recovery, the good things, for me, begin with my gratitude list.

I have been doing some reflecting on and off this month. Thinking about the friends I lost to addiction in 2010. For reasons unknown to me, I was spared back when I was still trying to control it. I am certain, Erin, did not realize she was using up her last ticket to ride that Saturday night in mid December 2010. I remember when she came in - year 2000. She was so hopeful, so energetic - jumped in with both feet. Her Mom would attend the Al-Anon meetings which met at the same time. She was 51 years old when she died in December 2010. Broke her Mom's heart. Erin had been in recovery for many years and always attended meetings even after she went back to using - thinking she could have it both ways. It did not work out for her as she expected in mid December. Erin gets no more chances. Some show us what doesn't work.

I believe "it" will always win in the end. It is patient, will wait and NEVER gives up. Its only goal is to administer pain and destroy.

I am not in morbid reflection. It is sometimes important for me to get quiet, be still ... to reflect on reality ... renews my ability to refuse to let my teasing mind seduce me.


Sending to those who are still struggling, still chasing the high, trying to control it ... and hoping they will chose to turn it around before it is too late.


Brock

[LeftWriteFemme]

January 23

Frankie



“Why do I expect new leaves to grow on dead sticks?” I pleaded to my sponsor.
“Is that a ‘why do fools fall in love’, question?” she retorted.
“Oh, I suppose it is. I was doing so well having a ‘listen only’ relationship with someone then she asked why I don’t tell her my opinion and I like a ‘fool’ I told her. The ensuing pile of rationalizing and justifying she gave stank up my whole day.”
“I bet your steady stream of self reproach didn’t help either,” my sponsor added.
“But, I know better!” I cried. “I mean this is why I stopped my speaking role with this girl. I know she is a reactor NOT a listener. How could I fall apart at her first recognition that I am wordless in the face of her diatribes?”
“You were hopeful. Is that such a crime? You think better of people than they really are. I think that helps you stay willing to help them,” she soothed.
“Yes, but this snapped my willingness to work with her in half. How do I put it back together?”
“Maybe you needed to learn that it’s okay to leave the dead sticks behind.”


Why do turnips look like tops and turnip tops look like greens?


*

COMPOST

Looking at the bins
The stages of decomposition
Remind me of my disease
The stinking garbage I came in with.

I have learned to work my program
The same way I learned to tend my pile
Personal experience, advice, watching
And smelling, the mistakes of myself and others.

I learned covering thoroughly with meetings
And steps works like leaves and hay
To eliminate the immediate stench.
Circulation is important to prevent me from becoming stale.

In the end, the secret is turning it over.
If I don't turn it over I become putrid.
I rot and ferment instead of decomposing,
Breaking down in a way which restores me to usefulness.

When I work the process
My higher Power turns me into a medium of growth.
A renewed source of life and depth.
I become rich in all things that matter.

I am sought after by all the people involved
In planting seeds of hope.
My sponsor says, “It’s a sign of humility
That I aspire to be like dirt."

Encouraging sprouts
From the remnants
Of my past.
She might be right

[LeftWriteFemme]

Brock, it is amazing how we got to live this live and how it slips through other people's fingers. I feel like a lottery winner most days and I pray to keep hold of my ticket! Good luck to all! I hope you are having a great weekend Brock, take care, Sherrie

Originally Posted by Brock

partial quote of Sherrie's last post:

"I start my gratitude list.
Beginning with my sobriety"

As a person in recovery, the good things, for me, begin with my gratitude list.

I have been doing some reflecting on and off this month. Thinking about the friends I lost to addiction in 2010. For reasons unknown to me, I was spared back when I was still trying to control it. I am certain, Erin, did not realize she was using up her last ticket to ride that Saturday night in mid December 2010. I remember when she came in - year 2000. She was so hopeful, so energetic - jumped in with both feet. Her Mom would attend the Al-Anon meetings which met at the same time. She was 51 years old when she died in December 2010. Broke her Mom's heart. Erin had been in recovery for many years and always attended meetings even after she went back to using - thinking she could have it both ways. It did not work out for her as she expected in mid December. Erin gets no more chances. Some show us what doesn't work.

I believe "it" will always win in the end. It is patient, will wait and NEVER gives up. Its only goal is to administer pain and destroy.

I am not in morbid reflection. It is sometimes important for me to get quiet, be still ... to reflect on reality ... renews my ability to refuse to let my teasing mind seduce me.


Sending to those who are still struggling, still chasing the high, trying to control it ... and hoping they will chose to turn it around before it is too late.


Brock

[RockOn]

Yes. Sherrie it is amazing to me too how we get to live this life. What a gift!!!

Spent a few hours with my sponsor today. We walked her dogs, then closed off her dining room so we could talk privately. With almost 30 years of sobriety, Cheryl has accumulated a lot of wisdom. She tells me she used to run dope (heroin) in her arms every day, plus drank alcoholically. I look at her, see how she is in her day to day business and cannot imagine she ever did that.

Funny thing, Cheryl's husband always wants to join in the visit when her sponsees come over to do work and she gets really upset with him. Heh Heh! I love her hubbie! He was in a recliner when I was leaving. I went over - kissed his forehead on my way out. Left her home and went to the 6:00 women's meeting tonight. Great meeting! Someone brought chocolate mint cookies ... that made it even better. *grin*

So far, I have been able to stay away from the Girl Scout chocolate mint cookies. I have to get two boxes to make it worth my while. Anything less is just enough to make me mad. And I saw those Cadbury milk chocolate eggs with the yellow and white creme inside at a drugstore the other day. I literally ran out the door. Put me in a room with 8 or 10 of those and a quart of milk ... not a pretty sight! LOL!

Hope you have a swell week!

[LeftWriteFemme]

January 24



The Max Factor



I apply foundation and rouge to make up the difference between reality and expectation. My composition is unexamined by onlookers; appearance is the subliminal standard bearer. My brave face is plaster cast as an estimation and a singularity. Powder gives and takes power; builds a glass ceiling then a glass floor. What I owe my mind is more than what I allow its representation to be. I am made up to a spot on the wall from which I can not move, all because I wanted to put my best face forward.

Cuddle up to curiosity

*

LIFE AS AN ELM



I stand tall
My bark sloughing elongated rectangles
Great bunions of wood protruding
Giant bubbles of tight grain grown in reactionary curls.

These tumors born of abuse and endured in maturation
Are harvested in recovery
The burden of them severed from me
By the sharp teeth of truth.

Sectioning these masses
For purposes of inventory
Allows the twisted and deformed wood
To become dry and constructive.


I inlay the contorted sheets of history
Into the panels of the doors AA built for me.
The doors built to exit hell
Which gave me access to the world beyond.

I stand in the woods
Reaching the sky
Sinking deeply in the underlying spring
Surrounded by the joys of reality.

Things unseen in my pain
Consumed
Blister covered life of addiction
Life was a forest of one.

The wind hit me
The snow fell on me
The drought
Affected only me.

Today, lightened by the loss
Of my inappropriate growth
I grow together with my sponsor,
My group and the We.

I can accept shade and shelter
Also offer it.
The bugs and parasites meet
With the resistance of communal health.


My disease
Has no harbor,
Not in my bark,
Not in my heart.

Today
My program
Strips me of my disabilities
And makes me strong in camaraderie

[LeftWriteFemme]

January 25



Responding to Response

Thankfully I’m not in charge of what is so freely given in this program. I want it to be available, but I want gratitude to be the universal response. At first I thought I couldn’t understand how anyone could hold this gift in their hands and not feel grateful, truth is I know exactly how that’s done and I don’t want to look at that ugly thing. “Cunning, Baffling, Powerful” But they left out how repulsive it is, maybe they didn’t want to see it either, or thought it was self-explanatory.
No matter which, I’m glad I am not the arbiter of the flowing fount that is recovery, I might have been tempted to cap and meter it, killing all the beauty and wild randomness that makes it real and true. I despair that others don’t recover as I recover and yet I am relieved that I didn’t have to drink as they drank.
I have to see those around me well enough to stay out of their traps or follow their leads, whichever is appropriate, but I don’t have to adjudicate their reply.

Pick up sticks and put downs stones

*

THE BUTTON BOX

I go to my button box
To sort out my life.
I lay out the matching sets
The various sizes, shapes and colors.

Coat buttons are commanding
But unsuitable for delicate places.
The tiny pearl buttons with shanks pull my attention
But work well only on silks.

The metal, shell and horn buttons
Come from such far off places
And all end up crossing my table
As I try to see clearly how to stick with the winners.

I know the people represented in this box.
The strong, the loud, the beautiful.
I know the weak and the unique,
The ones of special circumstances and occasions.

I come to the realization the simple ones,
The buttons sewn on the inside,
The ones who silently give strength
And support to the large and the small alike.

The ones which come in every shade and size,
Who match their ability
To service they render others,
These are my favorites.

They make secure all the things I love and trust
Flat and unobtrusive these buttons
Hold fast the fabric of my life.