Self Importance

October 20

Self Importance

When I am over sensitive and everything that everyone does looms large for me, I am more likely to think that I am a driving force in the lives of others.  It’s a funny connection in the same way that when I scratch the dogs tummy her foot paddles; when I am not getting my needs met I tend to believe I am in this world to meet the needs of others.  Often when in this mindset I also delude myself further to worry that I may be the only person who can help these other people.  I have been training myself to throw a flag on any and all plays where I am that important.  I try to bring all action to a stop and get right sized about who I am and how important I am and to whom and why.  It’s not that I don’t have value, I have the same value as everyone else, but when I shortchange my needs and my feelings, over responsibility to others mushrooms and this is not good for anyone; me least of all.  As with most things, if I find out what is right for me it tends to be right for those around me, even if I can’t see that at the time.

Frame your favorite moments

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VICTORY

Victory is a funny thing,
Bursting across the finish line
Ends the joyful competition
And begins the wait until the next endeavor.

Pushing for success
Drops my life off the radar screen.
Power can propel me out of range
The center of my life overshot
In an attempt to be a winner.

I am stripped of my commonality
In striving for singularity.
Looking for acclaim leaves me lonely.
The winners circle is very small
And while the flash explodes
The development shows I am now alone.

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

Inventory

June 22

INVENTORY

“When you say ‘self’ who ever do you mean?” asked my sponsor. “Do you mean the lovely velvet child or the facade you built to show others?”
“Well, I wish I could answer you, I do,” my reply.
“I see the shrine you construct in your sobriety. I love that you made it. When you talk about ridding yourself of ‘self’ I doubt you mean this edifice. Do you speak of some creature in the past? Do you know of whom you speak? Are you parroting then assuming this thing exists solely for you to now dispose of it?”
“I thought ‘self’ was self-evident,” I feebly interject.
“I want names and locations. If you only suspect some of these entities please provide me with a full accounting of your suspicions. I also want, to the best of your ability, the origin of these individuals. I am unwilling to cosign their disposal without a proper bookkeeping. I see by the bright look on your face I have made myself clear,” she said with conviction.
“So, this is what you meant by self inventory,” I say and sigh.


Draw a maze of exit from a dilemma.