Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 5

Please Sir

Gratitude is a thing which collects and solidifies, it’s pink and I can walk around on it. Some days it is a broad highway and other times a winding spindling track. Ever present if I am mindful, gratitude roots out pests and pestilence while planting a garden beyond my dreams. Gratitude is like handholding; it warms and strengthens me, keeps me connected to real life and reassures me that I am not alone. Many days I find a way to make a face and pout, plundering the rich rewards of sobriety for the thin gruel of discontent, poke me with a stick on these days and remind me who I am, for I am never Oliver even if I feel a little twist.





Rest between great ideas


*

FEELING TEMPLES

I failed to appreciate the initial onslaught of feelings
I spent much time trying to capture them
Lock them away or in some other way submarine them

This only had the effect of retarding my recovery
I had to reframe my thinking
I had to start with simple calisthenics, embrace and celebrate

As my emotional health began to take shape
I started the foundations for tiny shrines
Each with its own theme

Happiness had a party going on until all hours
With grief there seemed to be a constant internment in progress
Body or no

Fear showed on IMAX film
Of the realities of life on earth
Curiosity had an endless library plus a DSL line

Making myself a willing and frequent visitor
To these contrasting places
Created in me wholeness and peace

Never again do I have to trudge
The two dimensional desert
Of my monochromatic former life

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 6


Fearing Fearlessness

How many times have I given the credit to night blind fear, credit due the brave persistent child? How many times have I blamed the willing diligent pursuer when the fault was the backstabbing delay of mistrust? I resist the onset of freedom. Fear was my oldest familiar and I put from my mind that it was my jailer, captor; kidnapped me from my cradle and kept me locked from G-d’s fine intentions. Fearlessness sounds debilitating to my crippled ears, organs who hear well the disclaimers and are deaf to the claims. I am the producer of bile and addicted to dread, endorphins wear white hats and win the day once this yellow belly is put to bed.





Allow yourself distance from uncomfortable people



*

BIRDS AND BEES

Birds and Bees can get me drunk
I have to watch the amount of envy
Which pours through me as I watch their bliss

When others make a beeline to the hive
I must head to a meeting and save myself despair
If my spiritual condition is not sound

When other couples are weaving their nests
I have to be careful
Not to weave my way back to the bar

The mating dance is so sweet and seductive
I have to make sure
I don't end up doing the two step

For as much as I hate to admit it
If steps one and twelve where enough to keep me sober
The rest would not have needed to be written

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 7

Two Things That Should Be One

The difference between my will and G-d’s will is that G-d actually likes me all the time, never looks to punish and would rather that I don’t settle for less then what is best for me.

The difference between G-d’s will and my will is left to my own devices I would run in a perpetual circle and dig a trough. I would never ask for help and would refuse if it were offered. I would take on misguidedness as a mantle and wear it to my wake.

Often my will and G-d’s will are miles apart, but they needn’t be. G-d is the president of my fan club; I just need to start attending the meetings.




Make music in your head that you can feel in your whole body

*


WHIP

I have been to the meeting where the play 'whip'
The meeting where the members are gotten in line
The tempo increases constantly in an attempt
To flick each other off into the land of shame and slips and less-than

This game is invisible to the participants
Though the stress on their bodies is surely felt
Spectators often misunderstand the meaning of the activity
And wrongly interpret it as strength training and endurance building

I think of it as a backward step
Throwing me to my initial desire for a drink
Living other peoples skewed lines
Sent me running for a bottle

The same lines
Placed around me in sobriety
Will measure me up for a box

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 8


Out on Your Front Porch


“If you want what we have,” said my sponsor, “you will have to follow somebody and lead somebody and do a few other things.”
“I have to follow somebody, that shouldn’t be too hard,” I mumble.
“In order to follow it helps if you stop looking at the ground, lift you gaze,” her retort. I raise my chin until I meet her eyes. “Better,” says she.
“I follow you?” I ask.
“Me, yes, if I have what you want, follow others if I don’t,” she says.
“Okay and lead somebody, how do I do that?” I ask.
“It’s attraction, Sweetie, be attractive, show your smile and your smarts, but most of all show that you’re sober, because that is always your best asset. And no matter what anybody tells you about the allure of bad girls, nobody can resist a good set of assets”




Don’t let the rush of the river scare you from the bank

*

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 scattered

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

Only now is there air to breathe
The past is all vacuum
And I don't need to be sucked away

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 9


Up and Down: Round and Round

Like the wheel on my spinning wheel I pump up and down on the treadle and the wheel spins round and round, the roving twists in my hand and yarn is made. Really all I do is tap my foot and gently hold on, pulling occasionally. It is a small part I play in this production at least it feels small almost unnecessary, but with a clear mind I see that without me it doesn’t get done. I am essential yet still just a foot-tapper and hanger-on neither of these is prestigious yet the whole fabric depends on my mundane actions. I take great comfort knowing that all over there are foot-tappers and hangers-on keeping safe this way of life, sometimes keeping it safe just through sheer repetition. And if you ask, “Is that Unity or Recovery or Service?” All I can say is “Yes it is.”



Powder your bottom line

*


CLAW MARKS

There is a brackish River
Whose current changes directions twice a day
Its bed is well washed on every side.

It begs the question-
Which way is down hill?
There are times I struggle up hill in both directions

There are times I slip from every slope
What is up is often down
Judgment of topography requires distance

Scaling the surface takes tenacity
I plan on leaving my mark as I go
Life's residue staining my finger tips.

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 10



Stumbling Under the Tenth Step

When I’ve been outside of my mind it is so hard to tell when I’ve come home again. The landmarks take on such distortion in memory that the facts seem bloated or anorexic as I turn my face from side to side. Old journals remind me of old journeys and perhaps there are accurate landmarks mentioned, but how can I know for sure that these too are not just the ravings of a mind gone mad. Real or imagined I must take the daily count and try to keep the score in favor of the actual. I don’t always know that I’ve fallen until I inventory the dirt on my face, but better that I face the dirt than live the delusion of a mole.




Notice the shape of your fixtures



*

DROWNING NAKED

Bare & Exposed
I laid myself on the alter
Of my home group

AA, my only Source
I emptied the contents of my soul
And bore the mantle of overexposure

But vultures lurked in many rooms
I was safely guided by persons of my gender
To more secluded and effective place of transmission

I thrust myself into the arms and mind of my sponsor
She escorts me to the steps with the door closed
And taught me how and when it could be prudently opened

AA is a power greater than me, so is the ocean
Precaution needs to be taken when wading in
Care must be exercised as to how much to bare.

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 11



The Key You See


The key you see is letting you, accept me. Oh, how I hide from that, run from that, flee from that. I must be in control of what you think of me. I curtain off the view of me I don’t wish to share with you. Add to that the unusual choices of what I hide. I will strip down with all the lights blazing long before I would let you see me drop the ball, be confused, misunderstand. What I truly fail to realize is that in the process of trying to hide my faux pas and fumbles; what I show you is my controlling ass. Backside bare I moon you with my freak show trying to hide my humanity. Your compassion and tolerant waiting for me to calm down and open my eyes is the key I fail to see about you.





Learn the difference between area and circumference


*

RANK

I took an area level service position
And my sponsor laughed herself off her chair

What is your motivation for this? she asked
I want to move up through the service structure, my reply

Are you trying to make rank?
Problem with that? I ask

Ever heard of self-fulfilling prophecy
You will become what you desire

You will become rank
And you will stink

The triangle is inverted to help you clean up your act
Don’t get washed away in a tide of ego

I put down my swim fins
And removed my epilates