February 23
COMING TO THE TABLE
For many years, decades even, I stacked the table against
myself and others. I piled the sacred
next to trifles; I deposited item after item and built towers to
confusion. After years of sobriety, I
sorted the piles in earnest. I made a
place for myself at the table. It is
amazing what I can accomplish with a seat and a surface. Over months, tediously separating the needed
from the useless, I made a place for others at the table. There is a whole
world of life I had missed while trying to keep myself safe from unrealistic
expectations---expectations of who I am and what I can do, what I should do and
who I should do it for.
Having strong boundaries and a clean table is like a
homecoming. I am coming home to me. The
good games and happy meals had at this table are unexpected and surely
welcome. The wall I built held good
times at bay because I could not keep the flood of trash from spilling in from
every direction. I had to learn to hold my head up before I could look around.
Invent a new
language to talk to yourself in.
*
Ace
Like an ace in my pocket
step one is the beginning
and end of my step work.
This step carries the high and low count;
its rise is so near to the ground
I didn’t have to lift my chin to clear it
as I crawled my way in here,
Its appeal so exalted that it is all I hear
when I finish the twelfth
and am on my way back around.
the high and low of any hand.
Plus the card I keep up my sleeve for emergencies.
The greatest blessing is I don’t need four of a kind,
not even a pair; as long as I have step one.
I am guaranteed a full house, full heart and full life
between you and me that’s just how I like it.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane
and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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