Stepping Up

March 2

Stepping up

I look along the list of names, look upon the sea of faces.  Are there any whose eyes I avoid?  I gaze across the landscape are there any craters, any pock marks, any divots.  I tick through my actions those I’ve recently taken checking for stumbles, glitches, snafus.  These combined facts and figures create a portrait of my day; I appraise the eyes, the hair, the teeth.  If I can smile at what I see all is well if not I begin the repair. 

Plan for your contentment at least as much as you plan your escape

*

SWEAT

I turn the desk lamp into the eyes of God.
I put question after question
To the construct of my childhood concept.

Would you please explain?
Or exactly why did You do this,
That, or the other thing?

Are You now or have You ever been a member of?
I put the pressure on.
The beads of perspiration join and then trickle.

I have God in the box, I will not relent.
I don't understand You, I say disappointedly
As if speaking to a troubling adolescent.

You have so much potential, if only You would apply Yourself
The icon shakes It's head slowly and deliberately,
I shake my head too.

So much time has passed
And I am no closer to embrace.
You don't understand Me, says God to me.

Dawn breaks, I uncuff this mythic creature.
You are not the One I am looking for,
You are free to go

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

Suzy Q's Mother

February 17

Suzy Q’s Mother

Through process of elimination I have had to learn who G-d is and who G-d isn’t.  When it comes down to my understanding everything incomprehensible is off the table and what is left is mine, all mine.  I can’t fathom an all powerful G-d; therefore my G-d is not all powerful.  I can not begin to comprehend a vengeful G-d, as you might have guessed; my G-d is not vengeful.  Because of these constraints I have a non-omnipotent G-d, one with limitations and bounds.  This doesn’t mean I love my G-d any less in fact it may be why I love my G-d so very much.  And G-d loves me with a Mother love that trails me to the depths and heights of the path, but like any mother, she can’t do everything.  My G-d is accomplished and wonderful, but there are days that I need things, which lay outside my Higher Power’s area of expertise and I must turn to help beyond our little circle of two.  This is not easy at first.  We both feel awkward in the attempt, but Suzy Q lives two houses down and her mother still has her hook shot from college and since my mom’s experience of basketball is that it’s the court you walk through to go play tennis, I ask Mrs. Q with help making the three point shots.  I don’t have to understand Suzy Q’s mother, I leave that to Suzy.  I just have to ask for help, learn the jump and go home when I’m done.  It’s nice to be able to slam dunk, but there is no place like home.

Recommend earnestness

*

THIN ICE

The ice is brittle, transparent and breaking away.
I brace for destruction, turmoil and frigid descent.
I am stuck in my topside thinking
And cannot realize the chance for freedom the cracking expanse promises.

I am an oceanic creature.
I can escape my watery bonds with the splitting of the ice.
Trapped in a hole I keep open only through the friction of my unrest
I am kept from the community of life to which I belong.

My reflection mixes with my view of the sky
And I forget my place, forget my name,
Forget how I have come to be trapped here.

The pining after what is not mine to have
Has brought me to this thin edge.
I must break through to be who I am.
In doing so I shatter the illusion of who I thought I was.

Zeal to zenith
I must move away from the phantasm and mockery
And take refuge in what 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

The Long Dark Ride

February 16

The Long Dark Ride

Are fear and ignorance one thing that looks like itself or terrifying twins who feed one another?  Can they be separated and if they can will it kill them?  And if they die what will spring from their remains?  Will it be better or worse?  Can I tell what better is?  Should I tell if it turns out to be worse?  Is there ever an end to either fear or ignorance?  If there is, how deep is that well and will I survive a trip to the bottom?  Do you know and do you care?  Will you go with me if I find the way?  Will you take me if you find it first?

Learn from ugliness

*

THE 24 HOUR GOD

Matching a loving God to the horrors of my past
 has proved impossible for me.
Projecting a connection to an all powerful God
 of the ever foreshortening future seems implausible.

In today, I see a nurturing God
 not an all purpose God
Not a God who serves all.
In my life there is a God I trust today.

Each morning, when I wake
 there is a pleasant surprise to find a God.
Not an expansive God, not a God to fit the continuum
But a nice neat God who fits right in this 24 hours.

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

The Was and the Is

January 30

The Was and the Is

The Silent Scream that existed as a placeholder for my G-d was incomprehensible to me.  I entered AA and was informed that understanding my Higher Power was required not just some far distant goal.  In true alcoholic form my first move was to shun G-d.  This made room for my rage which was in much need of the space.  After a few fine years of dissipation I lost interest in incendiary devices no matter how large their detonation capacity.  Having cleared the room I brought in G-d as potted plant.  I talked to it occasionally, watered and fed it, mostly ignored it.  Growing in spite of lacking ministrations G-d was an unobtrusive force living in the corner changing gas into air and demanding nothing.  As I quelled my apprehension and lived with the Presence I looked, listened, probed and questioned the subtle Force sharing the room. “Add it up,” chanted the children in my ear, “run the numbers, settle the accounts.”  I calculated proofs and discarded the faulty and inaccurate.  What was left, the whole, not the remainder was mine to keep, but it was not everything.  I haven’t an everything G-d, because I am not a nothing person.  I am something and G-d is something too.  We are complimentary, like pairs of angles who come full circle.

Show the sun the souls of your feet

*

TRUST

You can trust people to be who they are.
I am a different being in relationship to different people.
To some I am the center of their constellation,
The sun burning bright, I 'm all they can see.

To others I am the moon,
Orbiting them, silent and dedicated.
With another group, I am a comet streaking through the sky,
Seldom seen but well remembered.

For many I am a distant star.
One among the multitude, blending in the night with the other signs.
Then there are the folks who see me in a more down to earth way,
I am the dirt beneath their feet.

The farmer sees me as a plant to be tended.
The cowboys view me as a horse to be broken.
To fisherman I'm a catch.
I am what people want to see.

So what can I trust them to be?
Wrapped in their own worlds
Yes, mostly I guess,
None of my business in the end.

I watch them and learn what I want to do, who I want to be.
In large part by avoiding what I see them do.
I do trust people to serve as bad examples, often
And good ones infrequently.

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

Inertia

January 29

Inertia

in·er·tia
n.

1.     Physics. The tendency of a body to resist acceleration; the tendency of a body at rest to remain at rest or of a body in straight line motion to stay in motion in a straight line unless acted on by an outside force.

2.     Resistance or disinclination to motion, action, or change

This force is real; the laws that govern it act on me for well and ill.  When I’m on a roll it’s hard to guide me and like the girl with the curl; when I’m stuck, I’m very, very stuck and it’s awful.  

I am bound by this reality and go or stay according to what is set in motion or stopped, but what about ‘the outside force’?  Am I in charge of summoning ‘it’ or is ‘it’ summonable at all?  Will ‘it’ obey like the dog, or obey like the cat?  Or is ‘it’ more random than the rain?  Can ‘it’ be lured or tempted or does ‘it lure and tempt me?  And the biggest questions on my mind: Is ‘the outside force’ also subject to inertia?  Are we in this together? What is ‘its’ outside force?  Might it have something to do with me?

Wash one pain at a time

*

NURSE

What if the word God is like the word nurse?
What if the person is only the simple meaning?
The actor doing the service
The plain act, uncontrollable from my end.

What if my active part of God,
Is the same as my active part of nurse?
What I draw down, how I schedule myself
To be ready when the milk arrives.

How I pull and am satisfied
Digest and draw again.
Like the sea laps at the shore,
The moon tugging it all the while.

What if God is about my hunger,
Satisfaction dependent on finding a suitable teat?
Maybe this is why, when it comes to God
Much of what I do, is cry.

When faced with my need, I open my mouth
Finding only two possible responses,
Suck or Scream.
My aching consumes me and I don't know how to calm myself.

I look for the caretaker, the person, the deed.
I need sucker but never look for the breast.
I am the child of God.
I must learn to draw God in

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

A Living Love

January 26

A Living Love

What I love about the program is that it is a living thing, like me.

It is not perfect, it is growing and changing, adapting and correcting for each experience and need.  AA is a life into life process and saves me because life begets life, no matter what I was told.  The answer to life is living and I get to see that being done by everyone from newcomer to old-timer each at his or her personal ability.  I am allowed to dangle my feet, wade, tread-water and swim, all under the watchful eye of loving support and critical pretender.  Difficulty is not removed nor is the way made smooth, but I am no longer without a thread to hold.  I love the web I help weave myself into and feel protected from the spider of my addiction because together we are living proof.

Bear Grace

*

DEEP IN THE SEA

Under the mirror
There is life
Under what I reflect to the world
I am a world apart.


I smile sweetly, political in my response
to confrontation and conflict
Deep, deep in the sea, is a current of sadness
I can't always shake.

Pain is the past
But it's there like a moray
Lurking to strike aimlessly, pointlessly
At the passersby.

The ripping teeth
And the cold stare
My terror
No way to escape it.

I focus on the topside
The reflective part of me.
I keep as clean
And free as can be.

I stick to my business
List my goals and make plans
The water runs cold
Then hot beneath.

I carry the steps to this underwater grave
Trying to inflate the rubber skin of god
But No
There is no life in the god of my understanding

Or maybe there is no life.
For the character the drowned balloon represents
The sea is bigger than me.
The life stronger and more abundant.

The sky it reflects as vast as the liquid
I swim
There is a Power
and it doesn't need that comic book face.

Safety is not the requirement
that can be granted.
Lack of safety does not end my life
It does not end God

Vlog:  http://youtu.be/52qY3TwWOxo

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

Comparison Shopping

January 15

Comparison Shopping

Cost analysis of the yeas and nays requires a savvy consumer.  Every word has a variable price dependant on whom it is spoken to and when it is said.  Some words charge compound interest and others pay dividends.  Timing and delivery is of the utmost importance.  Knowledge of the markets requires constant assessment.  The risk to benefit ratio varies widely and the short term verses the long term price can flip the market from profit to loss.  Hold my tongue, speak my mind, these must be weighed; the clock consulted and inventories taken.  What I say and when can be less a matter of bull or bear than whether or not I can afford to be a sheep.

Tap the wellspring of your heart.

*

FEEDING SQUIRRELS ON A ONE LANE BRIDGE

Cattle-corn spread on a single lane bridge
The Trap,

Food or Safety
There are plenty of other choices
My disease sees none of them.
Gluttony and danger

the perfect combination
How can I resist?
Why would I resist?
I have to have More.
I cannot depend on my nature
The ability God gave me to survive in my environs
Help must come from outside
And must be wild and dramatic.
Inward help is boring
Too subtle, too tiresome
Where is my image?
Where is my excitement?
How am I going to prove my God worthy?
Without too much
Without perilous risk and rescue
I can't.
I can't prove my God
My God doesn't need to prove anything to me.
I can find my way off the beaten path
Away from the prying eyes of rubberneckers.
No cheers from the crowd are necessary
I have the equipment, it comes standard
When I take the controls
And follow the twelve step tutorial.
I should be able to manage just fine
No Mack truck in my face
As I stuff myself
With ill gotten grain.

Vlog: http://youtu.be/uXu2Cp6YYt8

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

Sizing God Up

December 27

SIZING GOD UP

God doesn’t need to be big.  I only look for a big God when I feel very small.  I turn to God as compensation for my feelings, as some sort of bolster to brace myself with.  I have found when I am diminished in any way, God is tucked in a corner or pocket or drawer.  I flee to the great out of doors and find earth, nature and wind but the God of my understanding is proportionate to my mental state.  My partner is with me, near enough to hear the fear pour off my skin.  God doesn’t run from me to adventures in the wild.  I want to escape myself regularly but this is not my Higher Power's defect.  I come back to God when I stop running from me.  I face my reflection and recognize I am not towered over by a giant God; I am yoked with a power to share the load.

Enjoy the shape of things.

*

Disambiguation

This is what happens when you are stupid,

the same thing which happens

when you are smart yet afraid.

It doesn’t matter what dulls your sword,

your edge is gone.

Due diligence is required to hone it to first gleam,

what will it take to do it again

I don’t know and I rather not know.

If I can do the thing,

the thing which stands in front of me,

do it with whatever will I have

I am better off and stronger for it.

Better than to be the soft hearted genius

sitting in the corner or the soft headed idiot

standing in the street.

Mess is what comes from

retarded abilities or delayed action.

I can smell the problem and yet the lure

of staying is still so strong.

The pull-the push may not do the trick

to get me into a brighter head or willing body,

what works is what mostly always works; hunger.

I have to stop swallowing what is fed me

and go find the truth out for myself.

Vlog: http://youtu.be/p26JfqUHyEs

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

The Boat

December 5

THE BOAT

On my ride home from work there is a boat stuck between two trees in the middle of a horse pasture next to a riverbed so dry it's filled with grass.  I think the boat is me.  I feel for the boat every time I see it.  Turned on edge, waiting for a river, which doesn't exist anymore and may never exist again.  Placed on edge for protection, not comfort. Although having my bottom rot out, well, let's just say might be more uncomfortable.  What good will I be even if the river runs again since I'm fenced in?  My sponsor says I shouldn't ask any question which starts with the word 'why'.  You know my reply.

If my Higher Power has a plan...if it includes a river and a fence…  if I'm in this plan, me, the rowboat…I just don't see it.  Not seeing my purpose in life is a theme in my life says my sponsor.  I don't tell her the theme in hers.

Truth is, I don't want to face the fact I might float away. Even though I'm supported by two big trees.  Even though there is a tall fence all around me.  Completely in spite of the fact THERE IS NO WATER!  My Higher Power loves me.  I am the boat.

Enjoy the flowers and slide on the snow.

*

It All Points to Joy

Can Love reweave the fabric which hate destroys?

Can Kindness resew the field

torn through with disregard?

Can Beauty paint the world anew

after so much ugliness has rained down upon us?

My heart believes these three cannot fail

to make things right

for what other point could there be than Joy?

Vlog: http://youtu.be/chEY7foQ0Eo

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

Nuzzle's Offering

November 20

NUZZLE’S OFFERING

Like a vegan kitten who wrestles long tailed leaves and twigs, subduing them and dragging these prizes to the feet of human parents, I fight paper tigers and bring the tatters as tribute to my Higher Power.  These bloodless battles are pure practice; future wars may not be as clean.  I can not enlist my God to fight these skirmishes; I would never believe in one that I could.  I accept Deus as creator and cheerleader, but champion, no.  Foliage and foes are mine to fight.  The spoils, I bring back for pats on the head and bragging.

Talk to things other than people.

*

Triumph

God and I are experience junkies;

part of why I am here is so God can take me for a ride,

but also for the treat of God tucking into the sidecar

and letting me take us out for a spin.

I am God’s audience and God is mine;

though we are not peers we are comrades.

Life is a serious business I am sure and

profit and loss are always there to be considered.

I can barely describe to you

how much being in love with my creator is a joy,

but even better is being the apple of my creator’s eye.

Vlog: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T7X9dWsE86k&feature=youtu.be

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

Down the Upside

November 16

DOWN THE UPSIDE

On the downside of a rising star there is too much fear.  Anticipation is recommended for ascent, delight should be encouraged, but all out alarm is usually sounded whether it is needed or not.  Panic dims the shining pleasure of mounting the sky.  Refuting celestial status, denying astral projection, I renounce myself.  Attaining height, my position in space is apparent to bystanders and onlookers.  I need to ride the comet and accept fate, my nemesis.  Fortune shines on me, I should not squint away kismet.

Expand your spiritual muscle.

*

Who is the Parent?

There are more liars in my head than anywhere else

and they will say the most errant nonsense,

making it sound totally convincing.

First of all they use other people’s inventories

to leverage me into believing

that I am just what is needed

to lift each person’s  universe from despair;

Then they insist that my life will be incomplete

until I have saved nations and secured borders,

all the while failing to mention

the deadly nature of these attempts.

None of this is a problem unless I listen.

Liars’ lying causes me no trouble

until I accept and act on this bunk.

This is where a thorough inventory saves the day.

When I am clear about the truth of who and what I am

I can’t be easily led astray.

I know I am God’s child and the resemblance can be strong,

but today that burden is not mine to carry,

so I can stay busy being me.

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

Clinging

November 9

CLINGING

Large bugs cling to the soffits, upside down, as an alternative to the rain soaked landscape.  I salute their efforts to find security in a shrinking list of possible locations.  Awkward situations place me, fingertips and toenails holding position, trying to avoid life’s harsher choices.  Bitter, chilling options are cheerful alternatives to no options at all.  I can take the difficult positions as an advantage.  I have survived and this is the goal of the game.  I am here come what may.  I make the best of the worst times so God can help me make the best of the best times.

Turn with the tide.

*

Picture Window

When God sticks His face in my window it brightens my day.

What that shining face looks like in other windows I do not know,

but I try to memorize the eyes, the brow, the winning smile

before my time is up and the wind shifts.

The flash of a friendly face lights up the house,

my yard, the corners of my soul.

I imbibe the rich glow before it moves on,

letting my core charge with incandescence, warming my mettle.

I am long and longing for this happy countenance

and only when the blocks tumble in my mind

do I realize that it is two- way glass in that window

and stick my face in it and offer it to God.

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

Virginia Creeper

October 9

VIRGINIA CREEPER

In a clearing grows a vine; as seasons change the leaves turn pale.  This type of vine grows throughout the wood, but does it grow pale everywhere or only in the sunlit space?  I see the trembling of the lovely foliage and wonder the destiny of the flora.  Does growth have a will of its own?  Does it grow to the light or is it a must?  Can I turn my face even if Virginia Creeper cannot?  And if I can, should I, just to prove a point?

Keep a spare heart for your overflowing love.

*

The First We

Before powerlessness can be dealt with,

before unmanageability can be faced,

it is imperative that the “WE” is embraced.

It is the first and last job of sobriety.

Initially the human “we” is faced

and finally the I and Thee.

But the full spectrum of “we” is there to allow

the creation of possibilities in my life.

As the human body is 97% water

the recovering alcoholic is 97% “We”.

What I could never do on my own;

We do with ease.

On my own I might not be much

but together We are everything!

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

Remembering

October 6

REMEMBERING

Remembering is the oxygen my brain pumps to my soul.  Remembering gives me mobility and traction.  Everything in my life that is positive depends on my remembering.  It keeps apathy at bay and complacency locked in some far off cupboard.  Remembering gives today the misty sweetness I have grown to love.  I can live to my potential and enjoy the process, watch misery move away.  I can dream the future every night because I remember who I am and what I am capable of.  Never can I be haunted, memory keeps me from reactionary visitation.  Though some fear the past, I know holding it in a close embrace allows me to dance to the rhythm of truth.

Think of names for your sneakers.

*

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 God 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.

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

Just a Taste of Sunshine

September 20

JUST A TASTE OF SUNSHINE

The sunrise is so beautiful I want to taste it.  Like a child who needs to put everything in her mouth to really know it, I feel the need for a bite.  I want to participate in every way.  I want to blend with the color of the sky, join the horizon and dip beyond.  Look at me, who in the past sounded every retreat, now I leap toward life.  I stretch my arms to take it all in, merging with the continuum on this greatest of adventures.  The sun raises the charge and I lick my lips in anticipation.

Find the stop signs in your life.

*

Mercy

The rearview holds the vision,

the sad figure on the corner as I drive away,

all that is left to me are memories of God,

the rest I ejected and sped from as fast as I could.

I cannot face what is left

when I make God homeless and unloved.

Though living together was tough sometimes,

living alone is unbearable.

Nothing cooks right, cleans right, tastes right or smells right,

even the moon won’t rise right when I am strictly on my own.

And God wasn’t built for the streets,

that corner is not someplace my Higher Power fits in.

We are meant to be together

and apart the world spins off its measure.

Pitiful is what I am, so I swing around the block,

fling open the door and take pity on God and go home.

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

Hawaiian Graffiti

August 9

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 ongoing 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.”

Joint your possibilities.

*

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 God 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.

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

Sharing

August 3

SHARING

Please take a bite of my PB&J.  I made it myself.  It is fine as it is. I slathered the bread and cut it so neatly; still I can’t help but want to offer some to you.  I know that to stand and smile next to you, watch you lick the peanut butter from the roof of your mouth, have you dab the jelly from the corner of my lips, will make this sandwich even better.  You bring so much to this meal, something bright and so clever.  You bring you. I can pull things together and set it all up but somehow my creation is never quite complete until I share it with you.

Withhold a convoy of criticism, advance a brigade of cheer.

*

Big Name

My name has a foreign sound;

my head turns when it is called.

I recognize this as training not identity.

I remember teaching the dog her name.

I called it while petting and praising her,

soon the name was hers.

Now, I think of God.

Did we call long and loud enough

to trigger name recognition on a vast intangible?

Is this how we tagged and labeled the unknowable;

assigned it a place on a shelf;

somewhere to be called up from?

Does the noise sound as strange as the syllables

of my name sound to me?

Does it matter as long as we answer?

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

Game Playing

August 1

GAME PLAYING

My Higher Power doesn’t play me like a board game, doesn’t monopolize my time or put me in jeopardy.  My trouble is my own.  I pursue trivia at my discretion.  I take or reject risk at will.  I scrabble my thoughts and am sorry when I make mistakes but don’t expect to live in a candyland.  When I stick my hand in the mouse trap, or fall down the shoots and need to climb the ladders, I know the game may not be over, but it is far too late to play let’s make a deal.

Keep a game with you.

*

Porcellano

Some days I feel like a porcelain doll;

hard head, hard hands, hard feet

and everywhere else is soft, gormless.

I feel useless and act out my feelings,

stumbling through a day of pointless inactivity.

I know that I belong on a shelf

or propped upon the pillows of a bed,

not fine enough for curio or collection,

merely someone of marginal decorative value.

I have gotten away from the meaning of me,

the thrum of God’s intentions

and am trapped in this world of elaboration;

everything is embellished and nothing is real.

It is time to put my foot down.

To feel the earth solid and right;

to catch my mind and take it out

of its greasy spin from what is descent.

I am not a China doll

and it is time to walk away

from these purloined thoughts

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

Definitions

July 30

DEFINITIONS

I am close to my Higher Power but I have no words to describe It.  I have found it best to say nothing unless asked.  When I do speak, it is always about the path I took or the way I held my face.  I know the things that changed, and the wind that blew.  This is not the sketch most people seek.  My skin is brown and my smile broad; this is not from over-exposure to beams of light.  Closeness warms me.  I glow from standing near.  I know the face and form is different for every day; I must not stop for definitions.

Taste silence and smell the words.

*

The Acts of Hope

I cover my head when I pray

in hopes that God wants me sheltered.

I attend meetings to keep alive the hope

that sobriety is the end of isolation.

I talk to the people in my network

hoping I have something helpful to share.

I sit down to the blank page with hopes

that HP still chooses to collaborate with me.

I pick up my paintbrush filled with hope

that color is still my friend.

I inhale air along with hope that each breath

is worth the effort and I am worthy of this life.

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

To Sloop

July 26

TO SLOOP

When I was a tanker I carried such a heavy load.  The diesel cycle ran, combustion occurred at regular intervals and my internal temperature was terrific.  The fuel sprayed and things went round and round; the cost was high.  Now my principal means of propulsion is the wind in my sails.  Conversion was difficult, and though I found the rigging and mast a fascination, the ballast was a heavy load to bear.  The price of stability is responsibility.  Cargo is something short-lived, to be cast off at the next port.  Incumbent discretion is welded to my keel and will go with me to every harbor.  As a tankard, liquid was transported or consumed; as a cutter, dependability keeps me tacking into the wind.  Now, my outlay is low and my rewards are high.  I carry only what I need.  I am free, a sloop upon the sea.

Map your body.

*

Keds

If I gave a child a pair of sneakers

would I refuse to help them to tie them on?

Would I want this kid to wear them open,

tongues hanging out, laces dangling and dangerous?

Or worse would I want the child

to have to lug the sneakers around;

the kid feeling the need to treasure the gift

and protect it from use or wear?

I hope that I would not be this sick,

misguided or deranged.

I have to say that I have given up believing

in a crazy God.

But this doesn’t mean that I can’t

drive God crazy with my insane behavior.

I have to stick my feet inside my shoes

and lift my foot for help.

I must open my mouth to ask,

then pay close attention so I can learn

to do it on my own;

all the while not beating myself up

that I can’t do it already.

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