Showing posts with label adding it up. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adding it up. Show all posts

Sunday, March 22, 2015

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 entrĂ©e 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

Monday, June 30, 2014

Smog

June 30



SMOG


When I burn out, the smoke affects everyone in the surrounding area.  I forget to keep my wick trimmed and lamp full; I empty out and my light grows dim. I am responsible for maintenance and upkeep.  If I don’t protect my own radiance I will lose it and the darkness will be felt throughout the neighborhood.  I can’t risk the death of illumination or incur smoldering haze.  Fortification of my sobriety is a simple task if I make proper use of resources.  When I turn energy to obligation I am distracted and separated from my source, then the source I am to others is extinguished.  I can only light the darkness where I am; I can’t illuminate someone else’s path.  Nor should I pollute the way with smoke and vapor due to a lapse in my spiritual condition. 


Place the period then write to it.
*





From Mind to Pen to Paper

What a relief to have exteriorized all the swirl of thought,
which normally swarms my mind,
waiting to take the stage and run through their numbers.

Then like deciphering a code
I was able to cross out all the irrelevant and redundant information,
leaving me with a clear answer.

Once there standing on its own;
it was obvious and easily explained
how two plus three is five.

I just love anything that can be explained all on one hand
and there it was tidy and neatly fitted in the nest of my palm,
easy to grasp hold of with my fingers or my mind.



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

Saturday, March 22, 2014

Math

March 22

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 computation?”
“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.

Harmony is at contrast with permission.


*
Suddenly

Creeping realization has never been my experience
with God’s handy work in my kitchen.
I start out making a mess
and I find in short order that G-d has made a meal;
fit food for apt hunger.

I could throw myself into the kneading and shaping,
but without the yeast
which is so freely given I have no bread;
only a lump that will choke me in the end.

Even my very own abilities are gifts
I was incapable of offering to myself
and are only found here in my possession
through sheer grace.

I have woken up with my face
saliva glued to the table top far too often
only to discover my Higher Power doing
and I am grateful for without that action
I would be un-done.

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