Birth of an Apple

October 24

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 only one kind of delivery?  The children of effort produce fruit of their own; who am I to call them other than my 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.

Keep two lists: what you want and what you have.

*

Behind Closed Doors

The children of happy fathers make no sense to me.

I have known no such peace.

What is it to live in a world where there is a man

who likes you, someone who approves?

I feel like my chin would have always been out there to see,

no ducking, no need to hide,

had there been a good man to whom I could turn.

The dark circles under the eyes of my soul make me old,

old and different from those kids, mere children,

safe in a home with a happy man whose joy it is to be their Dad.

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

Safety in my Chair

February 22

SAFETY IN MY CHAIR

Sometimes I have to sit with my knees tucked up under my chin.  My feet can’t touch the floor at these moments.  I hug my legs to me, I feel contained but somehow adrift in my chair.  I center my mind on breath and pulse.  Pure fear flits and flutters while I gain my composure.  When I feel safe enough to put one foot down, then the other, and connect with the world again, I am leaving home to embark on this earthly trek.  The journey is there for me every day but some days I curl up in my chair.

Complement your feet with your shoes.

*

Patricide

I never killed my father.

Why finish a job that

someone is completing all on his own.

It’s not that I didn’t wish him dead;

I did and do for that matter.

Don’t misunderstand me,

I wish him no harm,

It’s just that he is like a creature so tortured

that he is nothing but a danger and a misery.

Left to live he is a hazard to everyone

he has contact with, an agony to live inside.

What can I wish for him,

but departure and rest,

something he can never give to himself.

I don’t plot, don’t scheme,

I only know; know in part,

the terrible lie he lives

and hurt he drags from place to place

Acting like it is not there and nothing matters;

let’s just get by.  So, if he is not dead he should be.

He is the embodiment of the hurtful impotent god

and I don’t kill that man

but I kill the image, perish that thought.

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

Because

January 20

BECAUSE

Because I am my father’s child, I make my attendance at meetings frequent and regular.  Having looked deeply in the genetic mirror, I see so many bitter days.  I’ve run from the implications and sheltered in the steps.  The humility that saved my life is the understanding I am no different from my family.  And, since this is a progressive disease we all have, I will just get there faster.  Knowing who I can be helps me turn my will over and keeps me grasping my Higher Power’s belt loop.  All I am turns in every direction and can pull or push, lift or fall.  I know my assets and I know their power and their limitations.  All my hope is placed on a plan to use these resources.  I follow the only lead which has never promised more than it can deliver.

Be your own loving parent.

*

What Is A Sheep To Do?

Things are bad out there.

I see the trouble as I circle within the flock.

Many of us whisper to each other as we pass.

How can I create lasting change?

Is there something helpful

that will not separate me from my precious life,

something that will not make me prey

to the vultures before I even realize that I’m dead?

How can I live and strive

while the wolves hold the hilltops?

Is the choice merely, one death or the other?

Is there an as yet unseen path?

Can I find it

while maintaining my place in this congregation?

What is a sheep to do?

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

Cured

February 24

Cured

Ham is cured.  Thank G-d, I’m not ham.  Ham likes to be the center of attention.  Thank G-d, I’m not ham.  I can’t be the worker among workers if I believe I don’t need to work.  I can’t be a friend among friends if I am an island or a precipice, above or away from the need or reach of others.  Cured is a one way street that leads to a dried up lonely end.  Just the same way that turning my cucumber into a pickle took me out of the garden, curing takes me away from the only home I know, recovery.  Though I am often raw and sometimes fresh, these I can survive, finished due to the drying out process that would be a living death.  Thank G-d I’m not cured.

                     

Side step pitfalls

*

BECAUSE

Because I am my fathers child,
I make my attendance at meetings frequent and regular.
Having looked deeply in the genetic mirror
I see so many bitter days.

I've run from implications and sheltered in the steps.
The humility that saved my life,
Is understanding I am no different from my family
And since this is a progressive disease we all have
I will just get there faster.

Knowing who I can be helps me turn my will over
And keeps me grasping my Higher Powers belt loop.
All I am turns in every direction
And can pull or push, lift or fall.

I know my assets.
I know their power and their limitations.
All my hope is placed on a plan to use these resources.
I follow the only lead
Which has never promised more than it can deliver.

Cured

February 24

Cured

Ham is cured. Thank G-d, I’m not ham. Ham likes to be the center of attention. Thank G-d, I’m not ham. I can’t be the worker among workers if I believe I don’t need to work. I can’t be a friend among friends if I am an island or a precipice, above or away from the need or reach of others. Cured is a one way street that leads to a dried up lonely end. Just the same way that turning my cucumber into a pickle took me out of the garden, curing takes me away from the only home I know, recovery. Though I am often raw and sometimes fresh, these I can survive, finished due to the drying out process that would be a living death. Thank G-d I’m not cured.

Side step pitfalls

*

BECAUSE

Because I am my fathers child,
I make my attendance at meetings frequent and regular.
Having looked deeply in the genetic mirror
I see so many bitter days.

I've run from implications and sheltered in the steps.
The humility that saved my life,
Is understanding I am no different from my family
And since this is a progressive disease we all have
I will just get there faster.

Knowing who I can be helps me turn my will over
And keeps me grasping my Higher Powers belt loop.
All I am turns in every direction
And can pull or push, lift or fall.

I know my assets.
I know their power and their limitations.
All my hope is placed on a plan to use these resources.
I follow the only lead
Which has never promised more than it can deliver.