Mail

May 16

MAIL

I form my query, fold my mind and mail it off to God with a stamp of approval from my sponsor.  The questions sent are of no great interest but the responses are a spellbinding group.  What is returned unopened is a wide array.  The circuitous route taken by some is a charm of elucidation.  I rub my fingertip over the intact seals and marvel at the travels of the wax.  I mourn over the defunked gods and their public relations organizations.  Slow is my resolve to pore over the replies.  I get easily caught in lackings and shy from true contact.  The equations embedded in my heart read the letters and sing the notes; these songs are just for me.  I know them like my name.  I turn the envelope and see how old the postmark is.

Remember your comfort needs a life of its own.

*

Pearly Whites

Reaction is a separation, a polarization;

it cuts you from me and God from we.

Response is a connection, an inclusion;

threading a line from you to me

and stitching God into our pockets.

I realize now that any positive connection

is an instantaneous link to my Higher Power

and can’t help but bring us closer.

Tiny feet carry beauty and kindness;

tiny teeth tear the fabric of the world to bits.

I must let my footwork conduct my life’s work

and seal my lips and reserve the dentistry.

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

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

On-Coming

May 11

ON-COMING

Anticipation of the approaching traffic consumes.  The tiny spec grows and develops into the arriving vehicle.  50 miles per and the rapid succession of the coming and those leaving eats quickly at my heart.  The pain seers me.  Why are these who travel from the direction of my destination passing me by?  For miles and miles, they appear to be greeters.  The breeze created by their passing chaps my face and I question my goals.  How can so many abandon my objective?  But flee it they do.  My hunger does not diminish and I press on.  Of course if we all went this way, we might tip the globe.   Maybe that’s what they fear.

Smile with your eyes, laugh with your hands, rest your heart, ease your mind.

*

Be That Girl

I have tried to protect the investment I made in the past

by selling the soul of my future.

I arrived self-possessed, a winning girl,

but I slid the self from the scene leaving me simply possessed.

I gained everything then lost it a piece at a time

starting with the parts nearest my heart.

I must draw the shards together once more

and mend this lovely crystal.

The art of living is insured by my action

not by grasping at slivers in terror

of what slips from my fingers.

I am what I have inviolate

and all else comes to fruition when I am pleased;

when I am myself.

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

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Birds & Bees

April 11

BIRDS & BEES

Birds and bees can get me drunk.  I have to watch the amount of envy which pours through me as I watch their wondrous bliss.  When others make a bee-line 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.

Pad barefoot through intention.

*

Neither Frog nor Fish

I was falling

and my Higher Power caught me

in a net called AA,

all of which was a pretty neat trick,

But the strangest consequence of this

is now I somehow think it shouldn’t be possible

for me to drown.

Defying gravity 24 hours at a time

doesn’t make me aquatic

or even amphibious for that matter.

I still have all the corollary restrictions

of anyone who is me.

I still need sleep and water,

food and warmth just like a mere mortal.

How silly I am.

I dodge a bullet

and suddenly I think I am waterproof.

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

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Fine Print

April 9

FINE PRINT

I can scrawl the wall with everything I know.  I can fill my books, chapter and verse, with pure and honest hope, but let me begin the precision of language and watch.  My once open face becomes tight; my free associations peek regularly around each corner.  Neatly painted lines are a trap with teeth laid bare.  Serrations of careful craft sever my umbilical and God floats off untethered.  Truth returns when I am shouting my prayers.  Scrupulous observance never advances my sails.  I must meet life with an open hand.  The devil may not be in the details but be sure to check the fine print.

Open one eye and wink at the possibilities.

*

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.

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

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Conservation of Love

April 8

CONSERVATION OF LOVE

Love does not diminish.  It recycles like the rain, ever in transition and transmission.  Love is not salvationary or redemptive.  Nor do I believe it to be the currency of Godliness.  Love is an element like cobalt or gold, it has weight and substance.  Love is the coinage of responsibility not a door out of consequences.  Love, true love, inspires right action, never cowardice or disrespect.  In this strange amelioration, standing in the wings of realism, love is love no longer.  Love is the standard I have to bear, not the canopy I stand beneath.  In the frozen center, love cannot endure the pressure of misinformation, and melts with friction, floods with irresponsibility.  Love, like money, admiration and sex, has its place and must not have expectation of being more than it is.  With that said, Love is peerless, to be treasured, protected and shared.

Run away with your heart but bring your mind.

*

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 allover

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, yes it is.”

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

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Arabian Days

April 7

ARABIAN DAYS

There are days I feel like Scheherazade and could spin a thousand tales.  Other days I feel my brain grab for its satchel and exit my ear.  I find it hard to be a hospitable host to all of me, but when I stretch or strain my elbow or knee I think, “oh well, they go out, they go out,” but if my brain runs off and leaves me I am in a serious mess.  I try to be a lover of my mind for when I don’t I grow small in my heart.  I scent the mental bath water and light the little lights; I sing sweet songs.  I wait for response.  I smile broadly to hear the quick report of Rimsky-Korsakov.

Don’t transpose your feelings.

*

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 raised my chin until I met her eyes.  “Better,” said she.

“I follow you?” I ask.

“Me, yes, if I have what you want,

follow others if I don’t,” she said.

“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”

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

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Rain

April 1

RAIN

The rain makes shadows of water.  It spills onto the ground like tiny worlds.  What had been airborne and mist is now earthbound and integral, feeding, cutting, learning the world.  Once I contemplated theories and mystery.  Now, washing dishes is a spiritual service.  The view was lovely when I was above it all but now I course through the veins of life.  There may come a time when I am untouchable again but by then I will have been a part of it all.  I will carry the world with me always, an orbiting servant not just above but through.

Engrave compliments in your mind.

*

Clock and Calendar Girl

I depend on the count and measure of time to get me through.

The swing of the pendulum carries me from moment to moment

and the divisions between days are like the rungs on a ladder;

I climb from month to month and age to age.

When I hold my breath I count the tic, tic, tic

till the difficult time passes and I can inhale once more.

Harder things require X’s in their numbered boxes

to help me transverse the larger distance and rockier terrain.

Take away my clock and I go deaf,

remove my calendar and I go blind.

Tools are tools even if they only aid sight and sound.

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

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Blue Crows

March 31

BLUE CROWS

Blue crows streak across my dreaming mind’s sky; they take up their post in a line of trees.  I stand at the edge of a burning field.  I feel nauseous at the thought of glorifying an ‘active’ life.  Everything is burned, scarred and crumpled; the flashy crows call from the hedgerow.  I know it’s time to fly.  The fire is out and I have work to do to keep the sparks and dormant embers from ruining another harvest.  I must travel with these strange birds and live an odd but regimented life.  I needn’t scorch my feet on this ground again but, like my companions, must spend some time in survey.  If I do not fully assess this damage, I might not fully embrace this dawn.

Bury your dead issues.

*

Why is it so hard to be me?

I have everything I could wish for.

I have love and friendship,

I have talent and ability.

What more could I want?

I don’t want more,

I want to learn how to overcome fear

and live with disappointment.

Abundance is ever at the door,

but I have no room for plenty.

Reassurance is the thing I chase after,

yearn for, pine about, but it is an illusive thing

like taking hold of smoke.

Allusion is the gift-wrap of reality

the unwrapping often puts me off the contents;

regaining my composure and reestablishing willingness

is a difficult job requiring dedication and fortitude.

The barrier before the carefree me

is thought,  the strongest of all substance.

I must heal the calcifications of my mind and resist rigidity.

My thinking is what makes being me problematic

without it I am nothing at all.

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

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Jet Lagging

November 24

Jet Lagging

Baby’s feet kick in the isle and we are all cocooned in our seats.  The movies play and earphones dangle in our ears. We are jetting across the country in our own little worlds.  Landing can not happen soon enough for me, not that I want to foreshorten the flight.  I just know I have a stack of lives waiting for me and I would like to get back to living them.  I have been a week away, a vacation for sure and true but I have my keep to earn, my obligations are many.  I hope to have done myself proud when I am through, but until then there is much to do.

Zip up to protect yourself from exposure

*

ORIGINS

Pain filled interactions with people
Better suited to be left alone
Changed me in the way of acceptance.

Retched relationships with people
Made it difficult for me to have a loving
Relationship with the world.

I had imprinted as a fledgling
On sarcasm and ridicule.
Bitter milk starved my expectations
Of kind response.

I could not greet the world eagerly.
Having never embraced the world
I failed to hang on as it turned
I slid on my face and hands.

Mud covered I try to keep an open mind
And attempt a connection
With this spinning orb.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Bride in a Bentley

November 4

Bride in a Bentley

Who determines your worth, the one who sets your ransom or the one who pays it?   Will you recognize yourself once you have been bought and paid for?  Will your life exist upon your return?  How many times has the road and its inhabitance taken me far from what I’ve known and extorted an exorbitant remuneration for restoration?    Redeemed is what they call it when the price is met, yet this might not be the feeling it evokes.  Deliverance is never 100% and reclamation is not always possible, so keep your mind free, but know your own worth.

Count the fingers on one hand

*

TIMELY

Spent a minute to rub the sleep
Gently from your eyes.
Spend an hour smoothing lotion
From one end to the other.

Spend a week researching your goals
Dreams and hopes.
Spend a month routing energy
To a viable flow.

Spend a life living it
Your life is worth all the time you have
Take it.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Ping Pong Balls and Possession

October 11

Ping Pong Balls and Possession

I keep an aquarium with a goldfish on my counter and sometimes he splashes my work proving to me that the thing I think I have contained often has a mind of its own.  I have heard that goldfish don’t remember much, but mine always knows which side of the tank provides him a view of me.  Memory may be reflexive.  Assumption possibly is as well.  I must keep a fresh account of what is within my grasp and what can swim away.  I have heard the many fish tales from the part of me that likes to lie. The scales shimmer and lure me to pretend control when in truth it is all just a game of chance.

Confiscate excuses

*

BIRTH OF AN APPLE

When an apple gives birth what is the result?
Seed or sauce, crunch or crisp?
The act of creation is so much an act of sacrifice
How can it be limited to one delivery?

The children of effort produce fruit of their own.
Who am I to call them other then kin?
How many times have I thrown over bluster for blizzard
But snow is snow.

I can accept every squall if I keep clear and willing
I may finish my days in a winter orchard
If I spend my life picking not choosing.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

What Oliver Could Not Know

October 7

What Oliver Could not Know

One of the complications of being an orphan is not learning about the failings and foibles which visit themselves on all parents.  Living estranged from G-d has this same blind spot.  When you live with someone day in and day out you understand their dimensions; depravation causes celebrity and the casting of very large shadows in some very odd places.  The intimate knowledge of a guardian allows for relaxation and experimentation.  Isolation creates an overload of anticipation; fear of risk and the yearning for attention swing a pendulum to the point of weaponry.  Familiarity is a breeding ground, which means many things grow.  Life in a vacuum is devoid of life and nothing grows up.

Lock away things forever and they only have imaginary meaning

*

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 on going 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.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Have Faith

October 4

Have Faith

Strange and wonderful tragedy takes you away from me and I don’t know how it is that you return, but you do and I thank G-d, but I’m not sure it was G-d’s idea that you went away or that you came back, though, I am sure, He missed you every bit as much as I did.  I revolve the freshness of you in my mouth like candy; I swirl, but don’t want to crack it open.  Honeymoons are for people who live comprehendible lives; we fly to each other and cling like raptors plummeting to the ground.  You leave your mark upon me I do the same for you; we are none the worse for the wear.  I stand in the gush from the hydrant, soaked in the pleasure, forgoing the safety.  The world may burn down again tomorrow, I remember that it has before, but I am wiser for the singeing and weathered with soot in my eyes and charcoal piled roundabout my legs, yet I’m still standing and you are back from the dead and I think of you as Lazarus.  And now we will live the comedy for life is what lay ahead, we took the hit of death before its time and so must be off the hook for the rest.

Try not to long for Santa

*

FISHING FOR CONTENTMENT

Fishing for contentment

Is a wonderful past time.

But what is used for bait?

Is there a delicacy

To dangle before contentment

To lure it into my life?

Can I crumble the best biscotti

And leave a trail to my door?

I don’t believe contentment

Swims around waiting to be caught.

I think it’s more like the wild yeast

That finds its way to my starter.

If I put the ingredients in my life

Contentment will rise to the occasion.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Carrion

August 23

Carrion

The trouble with not burying my dead issues is that in very short order they begin to smell and not, too long after that they start to attract vultures.  Alternately when I am able to drain all the juice out of these botherations and they become freeze-dried decorations like Roy Rodger’s Trigger, I find that I can still climb aboard but they just don’t take me anywhere.  I have found, just for me that I prefer visiting the grave of a past problem far better than having to live with its corpse, but then I am funny like that.  I have never been one for hanging on to the crucifixion, of other’s or my own.

Don’t wait for the bell of courage to sound, go ring it yourself

*

THE CALL

Within the sound of your voice

I sing.

In the beat of your heart

I heal.

I feel in your touch

And dance when your toe starts to tap.

I see myself in your beauty

And warm inside your embrace.

Your thoughts are my inspiration.

Your lungs breathe me in and blow me out.

I soar in your flight

And dream in your waking.

I ring in your ears

Fall with your tears.

I’m lost in you

And found in you.

I travel and lounge in you

I share all your rantings and hide in your secrets

You hear and caress me, my darling

You know who I am.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Single Serving Sterling

August 16

Single Serving Sterling

When the menu of life feels vast I must focus on my teaspoon; a simple tool that fits well in my hand, whose use I well understand.  The possibilities conceived when I ponder the intangibles conspire to suck me down the rabbit-hole where all that’s left to me is a drug.  When I come back to stir my tea and lick the spoon clean the world revolves around me and without need of my completed unified theory.  Need looms, loss stacks, salvation keeps a steady distance, my only hope is to drink my tea, I shan’t even sharpen my spoon; I can and need to stay out of my fear built prison and off the streets of hell.  My task is at hand and the size of the scoop is a reminder to take all of life in small doses.

Treat hope as a living thing; feed its hunger, quench its thirst

*

NATURAL LAW

Gravity is always in effect

But invoke the laws of lift

And you can make a stone fly.

I have no gills

But strap on a tank and rebreather

And I can share space with the sharks.

Given enough willingness and step work

I can walk through the world sober

Though every cell of my body is alcoholic.

The laws of nature are fluid

When I flow with them I can keep my goals.

Instant gratification is often my stumbling block.

Gaining access to my far-flung desires

Is not impossible

But it is also not immediate.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Pick up your hammer and saw

August 9

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 G-d 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.

Experiment, start living a dream

*

COMFORT AND WILLINGNESS

Closer than comfort is willingness.

Comfort is at the skin

But willingness is under it.

I can live without comfort

But not without willingness

Both are unseen but felt deeply.

Willingness drives to the destination

And comfort settles me in once there.

Comfort is a gift like warmth,

Willingness is a gift like breath.

I have been tempted to let go of willingness

To hold onto comfort.

True willingness brings true comfort

Never the other way around.

No matter where I have to go

Willingness will take me there,

I hope comfort will follow.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

I didn't mean to make you laugh

August 6

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 at least now they stick to my knife.

Assign colors to numbers

*

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 checks.

I am my own prize.

New and exciting

Every day that I am myself,

I win.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

When I rise up and when I lay down

June 29

When I rise up and when I lay down

In order to be happy with you I have to learn to be happy without you.  I gasp at the pain of it and desperately wish that the above statement were not true, but alas, you are gone in a way that I can never reclaim you and to hold on to what of you is still tentatively available I must release my frightened grasp.  A wisp of smoke is not the bonfire of our past, but it is what remains and I breathe it in as best I can.  Immediately I realize I am holding on again.  I breathe you out, let you go.  I want to run screaming, throwing you from my bonds, yet another of my attempts at control.  So, now it’s time to pray.  Not a prayer to get my way, not a prayer to make you stay, not a prayer to make you gone, just a prayer to live on my own.  G-d help me please to live my life, please guide me away from strife.  I am lost and can’t find my way, Father, hold me til the light of day.

Putty the cracks in your hopes

*

SHIMMER

The water ruffles over metallic sheen

Lap after lap screen the view

And still the gilt reflection shines in my eyes.

Hypnotic, the undulance pulls me near

I stand on the edge, gaze then gawk

I follow the underwater movement and iridescent tremolo

I forget place and time, I lose sight of the fact

Gold isn’t the only thing that shimmers

Sometimes that glint is just a fish

.

Life is full of fins and fantasy

My sponsor suggests--I stop looking for my life

In a wishing well.

Notice

June 22

Notice

I put myself on the auction block and wait to see how high a rate I will have to pay to become slave to my illusions.  I have worked so ardently to free myself from past enslavements and here I stand naked on this block, selling myself and hoping I will fetch a price.  Poisonous pedagogy is atomized, contained in every breath, I don’t know how to live apart from it and thus I stand waiting to be bought.  It no longer matters how I got up here the first time, for who cares that slaves enslave.  All that matters is that there seems no safe way off this block or out of this web, or down this street; the world seems a bad neighborhood everywhere I turn.  Yet I must admit that standing here affords a view I would not have if I were buying.  If I am slave I can have hope of someday being free, if I am owner what hope might there be?

Manage your behavior

*

CURRENCY OF FEAR

Fear pays the way for my disease to enter.

Once inside fear seats itself front and center

Fear is the currency that allows entrée to the far reaches,

The coinage is ancient and steeped in tradition.

There is no time or place

Which hasn’t been moneyed with fear

And it’s derivatives I can’t hide from

So my job must be to educate fear.

Fear is real

And has a place as protector and warning

But fear expands with ignorance

And devalues the purpose of caution.

Fear cannot buy safety

Though I can use it

To pay the toll

Across the bridge to balance.

In the Beginning is the End

June 21

In the Beginning is the End

I wonder if the road would show the reflection of its end would I walk down it still.  I always decide that I wouldn't want to miss anything, not even the most painful things, yet this may simply be a flaw in my upbringing. An over-valuing of survival.  What of you?  If the knowledge of beginning and end were within your grasp would you begin?  Would you flee the end?  This end or every end?  Or is it the beginning that you fear?  And why not, for doesn’t every beginning hold within it every end?

Enjoy the season you find yourself in

*

THE POODLE

Those pointed toes, slender legs

Carry her across my outstretched mid.

What a blessing to be sober long enough

To have never done any unseemly or frightful thing

Which might have caused apprehension in this firefly of a dog.

I read until she lays her neck over my mouth

For her kisses and ear rubs.

She is the center of the universe and I needn’t compete

I am content to serve as a resting place and nurse maid

I no longer look to be everyone’s pet.

I can pamper and indulge this little one

She has the whole stage to herself.

I can be her faithful audience

Having given up my farce.