When is enough, enough?

March 21

When is enough, enough?

“What is the difference between full and all?  Don’t know?  Well, let me tell you,” said my sponsor with a wink.  “Full is when the broccoli that went perfectly with the entrée leaves a pleasant smile on your face, full is when the arrow on the gas gauge points to F, these are little indicators of full.  Indications that you have reached all: the wet scary feeling in your mouth after your second piece of pie, all is the gas pouring down the side of your car because you have to try to squeeze more in.”

“Yes, yes,” I reply, “I know when I’ve overdone it; I resent everyone or at least I am cranky about everything.  I know when I’m under doing it, too; I get either a lost feeling or the sense that I should be in charge, but how do I really know that I am doing enough?”

“If your sponsor has a good idea of where you are mentally, physically and spiritually; if the people in your home group can count on you to contribute service regularly.  If most people in most meetings know not just your face, but also your name.  If your sponsees freely admit that you are their sponsor, those are sure signs.  Though the biggest signal for me is how constant my contact is.  If I’m reluctant to pray I’m usually not doing enough of something.”

Learn from pain

*

MATH

If this is the solution why aren't I happy?
I ask my sponsor in a piteous whine.
You've run the equation and the solution equals happiness?
She queries, that's the whole and total answer?
How many times did you go through the computations?

What's your point?
Are you saying happiness isn't the answer?
What about joy and freedom?
I heard someone say that was the goal
I know that's what I heard.

Let's think about it for a hot second
What would you think
If I worked the steps as hard as I do
And as a result walked around in a perpetual grin?
I'd think you had lost your mind.

So you're telling me you believe
The product of recovery is idiocy?
The thing we all are aspiring to is bliss and nothing but?
No, I guess not.
Then what is the solution for you? I ask.

A tally which fits the day I'm having
Joy sometimes fits that bill
But other days it's sadness or concern
There have been days when disbelief
And dismay were part of the appropriate response.

For me, the solution is having an equation
That helps me respond to life
Instead of reacting to it.
That's better than unending happiness
That's wholeness she said with a grin

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

Revelations

March 9

Revelations

And I, Sherrie, had a new freedom and a new happiness for the first freedom and the first happiness were passed away.  And there were no more tears. This is how it should be and for the most part this is how it is.  Hell’s gates hang broken on their hinges and I walk free.  The world is mine to explore and I am happy.  More than a notion, my life is a fact; sounder than a bank note and I am on an emotional foot race to keep pace with my recovering self.  Could it be lost?  Lost like paradise, lost like I was lost before?  Why, yes, all could be lost and that is what makes this freedom truly free and this happiness truly happy, they are mine, mine to keep and mine to lose, they may not be in my control but they are within my reach.

Voir dere contempt

*

VOLUNTARY MUTE

I have learned I don't have to answer just because someone asks.
I have learned to change subjects.
I have learned it is better to say nothing.

Repeating the phrase, "It's just my opinion."
Followed with, "I could be wrong."
Has proven insufficient.

Somehow things frequently turn out worse than I expected
But as of yet none have turned out better.
This upsets.

People become angry when I am correct.
They are less angry when I'm silent.
I tell the truth and trouble follows.

I didn't get sober to lie so I keep my mouth shut.
There is no reason to distress folks
And reality has a way of doing that.

Silence is my new defense
I hide in it
And find my new freedom.

Unless it's my sponsor, my sponsee or my cherished friend
Battening down the hatches saves me from a tempest
And spare others their outburst.

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

Exceptance

February 25

Exceptance

“I want G-d’s will for me,” I sigh to my sponsor.

“Except for this and except for that,” is her trig response.  She knows me, knows I have exceptance. “You have a list of exclusions, a list that dams up the works.”

“Well, trust is hard,” I splutter.

“Trust is not the issue here,” says she. “You don’t feel acceptable and exceptance is what follows.”

“Whatever could you mean?” my broken bluster leaving only this plaintive whine.

“You believe you’re not good enough for G-d or anyone and cross everything off the list in an attempt to duck blame or shame or some other nasty thing.  You are good enough kiddo, get that and everything else is good enough, too.  At least good enough for now and now is all we have. Accept that.”

Include water in your life

*

TOP

The chipped paint of the red stripe
Gives the illusion of fading to rose as it spins
The edge, painted thalo green, in it's intensity
Reflects the windows of the room.

The bead, purple and gleaming
Affixed to the stem holds the cuff
With it's two opposed openings
The cord recoiled inside.

Underneath, protected from easy observation
Resides the point, lathed and faultless
The turning weight is carried and balanced
Perfectly on this nib.

The hum, spiraling and melodic
Comes from the table as well as the top
The aptness of form and function
Grace and harmony

In spite of it all
The only thing
Which truly matters
Is who pulls the string.

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

Progressive Fourth

February 13

Progressive Fourth

All I can do is stand on the grass and count the shutters, the windows, the doors.  At first I cannot approach to inspect any closer than that.  Time passes and the other steps work me.  I peer through the windows the next time and count the stuffs I can glimpse through the glass.  I possess no periscopic vision, but what is in plain sight I reckon.  Subsequently I wished to exteriorize and draw the inventory of the house out onto the lawn and tally there wishing to avoid that interior life, the poisoned vixen who haunted there.  Time passed and she recovered as did I, into the house I went.  I am now able not only to number my possessions; I can assess the flow and function, work patterns, interplay, reliability. I have now appraised not just the what, but the how of my life and progress into tomorrow.

                     

Give cooperation a hand

*

TRAVELING PICTURES

I parked next to a beaten little import.
The well of the passengers side filled
With empty sports drink bottles and soda cans
The dash board was a shrine.

Three taped photographs.
One of a young man and young woman.
One of the young woman and an older woman.
One of the young woman and an enormous marble statue.

There were small carved objects
Affixed to the dash.
Jade and soapstone figures,
Beads and a feather.

The sanctuary in my head is decked out
In a similar manner.
Postcard pictures line my mind.
People I love, trips I took, pets long gone.

The road signs of my journey
Stand as exhibits of a tour of duty
Not always to my liking
But nothing I would trade.

I know clearly where I have been
And study the map to prepare
For the future escapades and loved ones.

Trinkets strung on my life line
Give texture, flavor and flash
To my pilgrimage.

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 is "Offender" #2

February 4

What is “Offender” Number 2?

I’m not looking for trouble, really I’m not, it’s just that thanks to this program I’m no longer plagued by resentment, but I doubt that is the only stumbling block there is.  Possibly the remaining list is as divergent as the alcoholics who make the lists.  Though I am guessing we have more in common than that one thing.  I stare at the various and sundry bric-a-brac measuring potential harm and formidability, so many candidates with razor edges.  I take my combat pose as I lift the pen, wondering if giving things status also gives them power.  I take comfort that acknowledgement is empowering for me.  Tell me the weights you lift to strengthen your “Spiritual Muscle” the things that crowd behind resentment vying for their turn as perpetrator of downfall and misery.

Poetry in motion is like a marching band with words

*

THE FORGOTTEN

I am not Cleopatra.
I am not in denial.
I forgot.
"Sure" says my sponsor
"I've seen the headdress."

That's not fair
I've heard women say they forget the pain of child birth.
"They're kidding, you can't just forget pain,
It's there waiting in the wings,
Looking for its fifteen minutes of fame."

"You will be the worse for it" she say with her smug way.
What if I can't drag it forward?
"Honey, Baby, Sweetie, you need to let those things come up,
Before they drag you back to a drink
Or whatever your new addiction of choice is."

"Just open your mind,
You might be surprised what is waiting to see the light of day."
What if it kills me?
"Darling, you're not that lucky,
You don't get to escape through death either."

"Lean into this and you will get through it faster
Hold onto the program and you will get through easier,
Fight it and it will tear you up."
Always the optimist my sponsor.

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

Sponsorship

January 28

Sponsorship

Right now, as I think of sponsorship, I think of all the things I have done wrong.  Times when I was not understanding enough and times when I was too understanding and enabling.  Sponsors I chose for ulterior motives and the ones I didn't challenge when they wandered away.  I search my mind for the ingredients that were in the mix when things went well and the dominant component was willingness, mine and theirs.  Whether I was sponsor or sponsee, willingness overrode ability, determination and love.  We had to come to the table willing, this was never something we were able to cook up or construct.  Nor is it something I can always hold onto, sometimes willingness evaporates or slips away like sand in a clenched fist.  The permanence and impermanence of sponsorship awes and frightens me.  Like a guidewire twisted from many strands none of which reaches from end to end I worry about the unraveling but depend on the strength.

Expectations are incubating resentments

*

THREE TOYS FLOATING

I bat the ducks across the surface of my bath.
Soaking is supposed to calm me,
I'm waiting.       
I assure you, my impatience is no help to this process.

These yellow, tub-bound misfits, grinning at me
Don't fill me with the joy of living either.
I have blown bubbles until I'm blue
I smell like a French elevator from the bath oil.

My hair is stiff with conditioner
My face packed with mud.
"Do the right thing." Said my sponsor
She is such a pain.

Here I am, bubble bath to my arm pits
And not a hint of peace
Her question rings,
"What do you want?"

But isn't it obvious, if I knew that
What would I be doing
Wrinkling in this swilling vat?
I wouldn't.

I would be out doing my thing.
Whatever, that thing is.
How I'm going to figure myself out I don't know
And, She, is no help (you know who She is, She is the sponsor lady)

So what do I want?
World peace, a clue, maybe just a hint
But I know part of it
I know more than I admit.

I want Sobriety and Happiness,
Dignity and Respect
Enough time to do these things
And Love.

"Well" says she, those things are easy
Work the steps, then the traditions,
Practice them, do service
And take the advice you give your own sponsees"

I stick out my tongue in her general direction.

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

Hades

January 17

Hades

There is a strangeness to the dark.  A velvety comfort when my paranoia is not alive with ice crystals and contempt.  Cocoons of light create hives of life in an otherwise isolating phenomena.  Pressing to my skin I can wear the night out as a jewel, a talisman for the hope I dare not share.  Pixies and faeries inhabit dawn’s wee hours but the black blank stretch of space is home to things quite different.  Unspeakable in their face I allow them to pass.  Should I be carried off my return is eminent for half the seeds remain.  Not wholly ransomed I live only part time in the sun.  When the shadows fall there is the oddness of home I can neither embrace nor deny.

Load the scale in your favor.

*

THERE IS A TREE

There is a tree in the woods
I've seen it.
It was cut off from any visible source of
Strength or sustenance.
Carried aloft by surrounding trees
The splintered trunk dangles in the air
It makes no connection to the forest floor.
I know the feeling
I have been cut off too.
Violently separated from my God, as it were.
I probe the fractured stump at the bottom of my soul.
I explore the crevices
Seeking tendrils of hope.
My anxiety bonds to my frustrations
But faith eludes me.
I look down to the broken place
The view unrealized by me.
I have a vista of unimagined beauty
Provided to me by the growth of others.
I am eye to eye with my peers,
Held in their loving embrace.
I bloom and flower with them.
I endure the winters the same as they
And come spring am stronger for it.
I don't know why I was damaged.
I don't know why I was saved.
I am grateful it is done.

My sponsor says "It's for our sobriety
And the pleasure of your company."

Vlog:  http://youtu.be/PiW66zH2pg4

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

Specks

January 14

Specks

Spectacles are for specks; tiny things that must be watched.  Commotion is nothing but a congregation of minutia with an audience. How many small things do I strain my eyes to see; then seek help to pursue further?  Some of these are put on display fishing for voyeurs.  Others are secreted away only to be ferreted out through magnification.  Whether curiosity or contempt drives me to these pinpoints I must search my motives before I scan the plain.  For truly if I am not careful I, myself will end up either speck or spectacle.

Let old wood and old women inhabit the shoreline of your mind.

*

NO MAPS

Maps have existed longer than I have
By the time of my birth there was aerial photography
Which had made pinpoint accuracy the norm.

I can be tracked by satellite on my daily commute
I can get a trip tic
And travel to the far reaches of this continent

"So what is your problem?" Asks my sponsor
There is no map for where we've been going
There are only the twelve steps, but after that-

It is all uncharted territory except of course-
For my families warnings about dragons
'Those critters stay to home mostly."  She says

"You have bigger things to worry about."
So where's the map
I need to know where to go.

No Map, we go through this together
The pitfalls are similar, sex and money
There are a few others

What each of us finds on this journey is uncharted
Plus if you spend your time looking down
You will miss the view.

We prop each other up as we step off into the unknown
And reel each other back
If we start falling off the beam.

How do I know if I'm doing it right
"Are you still sober?"
Yes, but I'm unsure.

Lots of people are sober
Right up until the time they're drunk
"So true, it's all about motive."

It's difficult to chart a heart
"Do you have willingness?"
Yes, you know I do.       

I have found that is the vehicle
To everywhere, So.,
Learn to enjoy the ride.

Vlog:  http://youtu.be/dBXCKvL5f-Q

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

Hoarfrost

January 10

Hoarfrost

On balmy evenings dew forms in my life and moistens my extremities.  This friendly act requires the maintenance of temperature.  If I become suddenly cool the landscape changes and the once welcoming vapor is now a show of crystalline rigidity.  Cold to the morning light I am brittle and snap at even a tentative touch.  For want of passion I have replaced it with definition and structure I can not absorb.  I am outlined clearly but no longer myself.  I am frozen, formally changed within and without.  Warmth is necessary, but how to start my own fire?  Learn, I must and quickly lest frostbite set in.

Wear your mantle don’t leave it to the fireplace

*

LONELINESS EATS MY LUNCH

There are days loneliness eats my lunch
And I can't fight back.
How can I stand it,
How can it still be this bad?

I pull out the old chestnuts.
If I'm not happy with what I have
How could I be happier with more?
Even tickets on the 50 yard line don't interest me, I came to play.

I think of other slogans, the tidbits, the smiles and hugs.
I roll them around.
Still, there are days my lunch is gulped down
And I sit with my plate empty.

Pickle juice, coleslaw drool is small comfort
Actually, it's a jeer.
I stare at my empty plate
I turn and twist it, stick my tongue out at it.

"Your good company," says my sponsor
Then why am I alone, if I'm so good
If my company is worthwhile
Why do I sit here hungry and desperate?

"Are you sure you are?"
It sure feels that way.
"Well, it might be true and it might not."

I get it.
I am unhooked from myself
I am ignoring the multitude at my elbow
While looking for someone in my lap
I'm holding out for old terms from a new contract

I am loved by people
Who aren't trying to consume me
And I am letting my expectations
Dine for free.

Vlog: http://youtu.be/drAZwaQK31A

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

Crestfallen

January 9

Crestfallen

“Whoa is me, I have crested the rise only to slide down the other side.  Hard work and determination culminated in victory but alas it was short lived.  Success is barely meaningful if it is permanent.  Poor, poor dear, I will have to strive once more at the face of a new challenge or even worse might have to make another run at this one.  How shall I ever bear it?” I lament, my sponsor smiles.

“Are you learning to be amused at yourself or hoping to bring back melodrama to the everyman?”  She queries.

“A little of both I think, whining is a consolation to me,” I reply.

“It’s nice that you’re not doing it at me, but even nicer that you have let your achievements teach you to laugh at your mishaps,” says my sponsor with a kiss to my forehead.

Butter both sides of your intentions

*

BREAKING MY OWN GLASS

The police of a small town caught a serial glass breaker today.
The man who owned a plate glass repair shop
Was breaking store front windows.
I break my own.
I go through my life, I slash my own tires
And break my own glass.
I fear continuity, stability, success.
I love damage control, making arts and craft from my slivers and shards
"Think what you could do with undamaged goods." Says my sponsor
I don't know how to do anything with undamaged goods
Except damage them or give them to others.
"Saddest thing I've ever heard." she counters
I can make a quilt from discarded clothes, mosaics from shattered dishes
A collage from junk mail and rescue every stray on the block,
See the potential in every person in a crowded hall
And hold your hand and cheer you on.
"What have you done for you lately?" my sponsor taunts
She is making my point, what can I do for me?
Search and destroy?
Live outside myself?
I have to be sober to be me, I can't go around making a mess
Just so I have something familiar to wallow in.
What if I can't do anything fresh?
"Learn to market the retreads.' she says

Vlog:  http://youtu.be/Sy58821vXp4

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

Hand Me Down Pain

January 6

Hand Me Down Pain

You have sent a cold thing into my heart it causes my feet to move me away from you.  It need not be spoken of this is a thing of ice and lead.  Words are no help here, action is the only cure.  Eternity can be spent with a soul bisected by slivers.  Stepping the willing way to joy and freedom seems so unlikely from this frosty local.  Make my mind up I must.  Close my eyes and move forward.  I will leave your pain behind me I hope not to have to leave you.

Kiss tiny pebbles and roll them away

~

HELP FROM STRANGE SOURCES

I cannot get my mind wrapped around the places I find help.
I struggle with believing I have been helped.
I struggle with disbelief at my own resistance.
I am helped daily by many tiny things seen and unseen.
I realize now I was injured by the same tiny things.
When I was misaligned with my Higher Power
The sun rising, the tiny star I circle in this great nothingness
It makes my whole day.
The air hanging around just in case I need it,
Which I often do.
The people who live with me, a mean feat.
The people who work with me.
Those who exist here with me keep my ship on course,
How sweet of them to do mostly right everyday of their lives,
What a help that is.
The whole ecosystem and all the weather
What would I do without it?
But this is on a good day,
On a bad day, the sun is in my eyes and scorching my skin,
The air is too still, or well, the wind is always a problem.
And people, people are an endless plight,
People do things to hurt, annoy and irritate me,
Full intent, targeted to me, my life, my wants destroyed.
Bugs seek me and I am followed by the darkest cloud,
Everyday, all day, lurking.

I AM SO THANKFUL FOR A SPONSOR AND A TENTH STEP

Vlog:  http://youtu.be/475YWS01jBM

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

Maniacs on Pogo Sticks

January 3

Maniacs on Pogo Sticks

I fear maniacs on pogo sticks peeping through my rural second story windows as the smoke of paranoia curls between my ears.  Overestimating my interest to others causes me as much harm as the underestimation. Attributing super powers to onlookers is a parlor trick my ego plays to keep me occupied while my life passes by.  I sacrifice all my possibilities for fear of what could be stolen through my keyhole.  I cut off my face to spite my poor lonely nose.  I must move forward in spite of my disquietude for the future lay ahead, yet I do console myself that it is harder to hit a moving target.

Use honey to get the peas to stick to your knife

~

DIDN'T KNOW I WAS GOING TO THE CIRCUS

I show up at a meeting
I didn't know the circus was in town
I expected calm, demure, sober behavior
My expectations were dashed, my bubble burst.

There were people streaming back and forth in front of the speaker
There were kids playing among the chairs
Smokers worked the meeting in shifts
Hustling out the back door and smoldering back in.

The side conversations rivaled the main attraction
People dressed for the street not the meeting, the bibby shirt, tights and no skirt
Was more of a high-wire act then I had ever seen before
Shock cannot even begin to describe the state of my mind.

"But for the grace of God" said my sponsor
"No" I said "It's a choice, they're sober now."
"Oh yes" she remarked "Weren't you sober when you took on
Every man with time, looking for a fight with each of them?"

"I was cutting my chops. They understood."
"Some of them didn't." said she
"Weren't you sober when you dyed your hair red - but only half?"
" I was afraid I'd dye my scalp, so I started lower."

"Yes, but aren't you the one who says sudden hair color change
Is a sign of instability in sobriety?"
"Yes, I do." I replied
"I think you would have fit in well with the circus.
You and your two tone hair but you didn't hear it from me."
"You're mean."
"And what are you being?"
"Judgmental."

"That's my girl, what are we going to do about it?"
"Be grateful, grateful I got in quick enough
Grateful people let me work things out in these rooms.
Grateful I still have something to learn from everyone. GRATEFUL."

Vlog: http://youtu.be/WLX_uTL2hao

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

Lie

January 1

Lie

Yes, a lie is just a lie, but the truth also has problems.  I relay the facts and the words take on a life of their own, leave out the backdoor and walk on down the road. They move to another town and never find time to come back for a visit even though, I am their mother.  And woe to the woman who grows attached to credit or recognition for her ideas.  These kidnapped prodigies are never ransomed but sold outright and their DNA not questioned or tested.

So, my advice is to love your words in secret and raise your notions behind high walls.  If you are ever called upon to share your wisdom, lie.  For even if you’re caught the risk is tolerable.  Exposure is awkward but then again no one is looking, so, what is there to lose.  A lie is just a lie but it stays home with you at night.

Tie a string to the moon

~

THE COWS ARE HIGHER THAN THE HOUSE

I got sober only to end up living in a house
where the cows are higher than the house.
I mean next to my house there is a hill
The hill is surrounded by a fence
The cows are pastured inside the fence
Standing on the hill the cows are taller than the house.

I didn't expect to live in a house where the cows were higher.
I expected normal
I didn't expect the cows at all.
I expected the house but not this house
It's at the end of the lane
It's the one with the rose colored shutters.

My sponsor wants to know why rose colored shutters
Are OK but cows overlooking the house aren't?
I can't answer her
It's just wrong - that's all!
I don't know why she can't understand this
It seems perfectly clear to me.

My sponsor says I am powerless over the cows
And my life is not unmanageable but my thinking is.
She tells me to paint purple cows.
To write stories about worse places for the cows to be
I tell her the tub.
She says write it down.
She's no fun.

I heard in a meeting I should pray for the people
And things I am upset about.
I pray for the cows
My sponsor says the cows see how I live my life
And she is sure the cows pray for me.

Vlog:  http://youtu.be/mvzU3AmU2J4

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

Relapse is Not Required

December 29

RELAPSE IS NOT REQUIRED

“Relapse is not required,” said my sponsor, “though at some meetings they make it seem appealing, all that prodigal drunk treatment.”

“Well, so far, I’m living in the blessing of being convinced the first time,” I told her, “plus what could possibly be out there that’s better than what’s in here?”

“That is the point.  There is so much out there that is faster and bigger, more dramatic and extreme, but I sure have never seen anything better,” she patted my head and I grinned.

“Since I am winning the first time why would I want to lose?” I add just to overstate her point.

“This is the perfect place for those who want it, and all the rest get drunk, but drinking is not required any more than Santa has to come on Christmas.”

Save pretty words in a jar like candy.

*

Step 3

Remember that this is a surrender to a friend, a thing filled with humor and humility not a thing filled with shame or humiliation.  As for regret the only one I’ve ever had about step 3 is that I didn’t surrender earlier.  Trying to pull a moose by its antlers across the desert was always a ridiculous endeavor, but a friend will stay close and let you try, always ready to lend a hand if asked, though never stealing the opportunity for me to recognize on my own how foolish I have been.  Hilarity ensues as I explain my thinking and turn the project over to a brighter mind and more able hand realizing then; there is no good reason to pull that big thing across that vast wasteland.  On the way back we chat about platypus and rhinoceros and laugh at how many strange things seem like bright ideas in the quiet space of even a great brain.  I have avoided surrendering fearing the loneliness and defeat.  Struggling alone with my torment was lonely; turning myself over to my best friend keeps me in the very best company.

Vlog:  http://youtu.be/0VICoQBksyo

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

There are only 23 days left till my nervous break down

December 2

There are only 23 more shopping days left till my nervous break down

Shoppers beware: I have a careful plan!  I can juggle these thirty things, keep these twenty people happy, dig around in the dirt at these three excavation sites and hold on to my sanity for twenty-three more days.  

My sponsor says having a plan like that means I’m already crazy.  My sponsor says I don’t have to please anyone but myself, my Higher Power and her.  That can’t be right.  What is the point of sobriety if I can’t do it all? 

She says I don’t even have to please her or myself.  What does that mean?  How can I tell if I’m pleasing my Higher Power? 

She says, “Shut up and you’ll find out.” Great!  What a plan.  I like my countdown better.  Of course I do, it’s mine.  My countdown, my life, mine, mine, mine. 

Maybe my sponsor is not all wrong.  OK, quiet......da,da,da.....da,da.  OK, quiet for real.  Hmmm.  I don’t, don’t know.  This isn’t working.  I can’t do this.  Why would I need to stop being me in order to get better?

“Who are you?” she asks.  She thinks she’s so smart.  I’m the one in the middle.  She says the eye of the storm is empty and I need to get a life of my own.

Endurance lets you live in the house you built.

*

Anti-Forfeit Activity

I don’t want to write

bad, forced, poor, weak, care-worn poems,

but I won’t write any good ones if I don’t lift this pen.

The embarrassment I might feel for lackluster lines

is far less than the shame of empty notebooks.

I don’t always like what flows when I open the gates,

but I am sure glad the current is live and so am I.

Vlog: http://youtu.be/1K9UEf2__xk

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

Timely

November 17

TIMELY

Spend a minute to rub the sleep gently from your eyes.

Spend an hour smoothing lotion from one end to the other.

Spend a day in tribute to the gifts you give and gifts given you.

Spend a week researching your goals, dreams and hopes.

Spend a month routing energy to a viable flow.

Spend a year studying truth.

Spend a life living it.

Your life is worth all the time you have.

Take it.

Balance doubt and dreams.

*

Human Sacrifice

How much does it have to cost me

in order for you to feel better?

Why is it that my suffering improves your mood?

Does it confirm for you that you are not alone

when you are feeling scared?

Or does it give you the sense

that at least you’re not as pitiful as me?

Is it pleading that strikes a chord,

is it the animal pain which stirs your compassion?

What about this scenario completes the cycle for you

to be able to move back to your comfort zone?

What happens if I don’t fall to pieces?

If I hold my emotions to my chest,

take them to my sponsor,

in some way keep them from your hungry eyes?

Will you move on and leave me behind?

Will you climb over the hurdle

which currently stands between us?

Or will you store away this bitter thing

like a rotten nut hidden by a Secret Squirrel?

Youtube Vlog: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z9bRzQNkulA&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

Three Toys Floating

November 14

THREE TOYS FLOATING

I bat the ducks across the surface of my bath.  Soaking is supposed to calm me.  I’m waiting.  I assure you my impatience is no help to this process.  These yellow, tub-bound misfits grinning at me don’t fill me with the joy of living, either.  I have blown bubbles until I’m blue.  I smell like a French elevator from the bath oils.  My hair is stiff with conditioner; my face packed with mud.  “Do the right thing," said my sponsor.  She is such a pain.  Here I am bubble bath to my armpits, and not a hint of peace.  Her question rings, “What do you want?”  But isn’t it obvious?  If I knew that, what would I be doing wrinkling in this swilling vat?  I wouldn’t.  I would be out doing my ‘thing’, whatever that ‘thing’ is.  How I’m going to figure myself out I don’t know.  And ‘she’ is no help, (you know who ‘she’ is, she the sponsor lady) 

So what do I want?

World peace.       A clue.        Maybe just a hint.

But I know part of it.  I know more than I admit.

I want sobriety and happiness, dignity and respect, enough time to do these things, and love.

“Well," says she, “those things are easy.  Work the steps, then the traditions; practice them, do service, and take the advice you give to your own sponsees.”

I stick out my tongue in her general direction.

Creep toward the unknown.

*

Surfs Up

The first time I arrive at the beach the tide is a shock to me.

I had no way to anticipate it.

As the days pass I calm, realizing there is a rhythm

and that the sea won’t escape the shore.

Over time I begin to anticipate the movement

and then rely on it.

I learn to live with the in and out nature of the water

lapping the lip of sand;

What it brings and what it takes away.

I am human, I adapt, I survive.

How do I make the jump to blessing the moon?

How do I touch the divine?

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

Spontaneous Willingness

November 3

SPONTANEOUS WILLINGNESS

At my local coffee-mart there is a strip of cellophane tape adhered to the mid of a Plexiglas panel built into the barrier where the line forms.  Only at a certain angle can this satin finish tape be seen.  When I first caught a glimpse of it I recognized others had stood there and responded to the sight of this strip by prying bits of the edge with fingernails; I was drawn to do the same.  I could not pull much up, but each time I stand there I work diligently for the moments it takes to make it to the head of the line and be on my way.  Unseen others pull fragments while I’m away.  Over time we will accomplish this task, unbidden, unknown to each other except through this common goal, spontaneous willingness to do what can be done.

Build a boat in your mind and push off.

*

MISS DIRECTED

I called and rambled at my sponsor.

After a significant time had passed,

she stopped me and asked with a tone in her voice,

“and why are you calling me?”

Startled, I replied, “for your advice!”

“Are you sure that’s why you called?

Because I can give you my advice,

but I have given advice to you before

and received only a severe case of the ‘Yeah, Buts’ in return.”

I was about to say ‘yeah, but you don’t understand’

when she cleared her throat to quiet me

and continued what she was saying.

“Seems to me you really want more than a sober ear,

you want magic.

You want me to take your crazy, dramatic thinking,

put it in a hat and pull it out formed, as all your dreams,

and then you want credit for making it happen.

But, Kitten, I have news for you,

I’m not Mr. Roark and this is not Fantasy Island.

This is sobriety and you can’t just have your way.”

This is when I realized I was on a dry drunk.

I don’t know what the first signs are,

but I do know when your sponsor asks,

“and you’re calling me, why?” the jig is 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

Optical Illusion

September 25

OPTICAL ILLUSIONS

“Like my new frames?” I ask my sponsor.

“Who wrote your prescription?”

“Oh, the lenses aren’t new, just the frames,” I reply.

“You want to be seen differently but you want to see things the same old way.  My question still stands.  Who wrote you the script for those funhouse glasses you have used all your life? Did it ever occur to you the distortion is ground into the glass?  Remember, some people need you to see things as other than what they are.  Unhappy families look great if you can’t see them too clearly.  It’s hard to know what to say to keep the peace, said Grandma.  She never took off her specs to see there was no peace to keep.  So, I will ask you again.  The view of the world you base your choices on, who chose the color you see it through?”

Breathe to improve your mind and mood.

*

Green Wood

When a nail is hammered into a living tree,

the tree is forever changed.

Even if the barb is pulled out

he tree will never be the same.

If the spike remains and the tree lives;

over time the nail will be incorporated,

the tree will get on with the business of living

and carry the thing as just a part of what it took to get here.

What was trauma is trauma,

but life is big and the longer it gets

the larger the life, is the hope.

Piercing experience is engulfed by rings of fresh wood

and a will to grow beyond the moment of impact.

The tree branches out and even a hundred nails can’t stop that.

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

Killer squirrels and other sober drams

September 14

KILLER SQUIRRELS AND OTHER SOBER DRAMA

I can tell you stories to make your hair curl: death-defying fifth steps, speaking commitments with microphoned podiums, sponsees with killer squirrels trapped in the house.  Courage and sheer determination are needed to face plague, after crisis, after pestilence, and yet with sober mind and willing heart these travails are surmounted and we live on.  Tears turn to laughter with rescue and remedy.  How strong we feel as the cape is passed, when the one-time panic prone sponsee becomes the model of calm and stable sponsor.  Hoards of relatives at holidays and interactions with bankers, police officers and all manner of people in shiny shoes are handled with grace and boundaries.  Porch loving skunks, children becoming teenagers are faced with humor and wit.  Things, which in years gone by would have sent us screaming to the phone, are now casual asides during after-meeting discussion.  Life does keep on spinning but we learn how to stand still.

Spend a day on a lily pad.

*

Heartfelt

Boab trees litter my dreams;

gossipy like old women in the late afternoon sun,

I wonder at the tales they tell though

I am far too young to understand.

The Australian Kimberly shelters these mysteries in life;

they shelter me in the far off wilderness of my mind.

Coming to age seems merely a step

when in the presence of the ancient beauty of long endured life.

Too long drought, too deep rain,

are places I can pick my face up from,

stand my ground or be on my way.

The leaves may fall, but they will return in my dreams

and I will return to my 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