Spirituality

March 12

SPIRITUALITY

The bedpan of spirituality was shoved under my ass in early sobriety.  It kept me from increasing the mess with which I surround myself.  The cold smack of enamel got my attention.  The old timers showed me there is a place for my shit; it was not any of the places I had been using.  Discretion is the better part of everything.  I needn’t show my backside everywhere I go.  My side, your side, all sides were strewn with my waste.  Fragments, tatters and fearful reminders were all there for me to clean up.  Amends as the shovel and willingness as its handle are what I use to clear my past.  Sweat is refreshing when progress is being made.  I’ve made inroads; paths of travel help me move easily from the past to the present without regret.

Write directions to your heart.

*

Wax On

“Sometimes a dish is just a dish,” I said to my sponsor.

“Yes and sometimes it is the world away,

which you hold in your hand,” her reply.

I stand at the sink and try to wash the dishes

when I am washing the dishes.

I try to drive the car when I drive the car.

These simple acts of concentration

focus and sooth the jagged mental sutures

where I am supposed to be coming together,

but ultimately come apart.

Anything to break my frenetic gyrations is a blessing,

anything to cut away to a closer view

and a clearer understanding of where I really am;

Anything to derail the speeding blur

of a life of my creation, is good.

What I do and who I am are secrets and mysteries

when I don’t know how to pay attention

and ironies when I do.

And if you doubt me, just go ask Arnold.

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

Wanting

March 1

WANTING

“Wanting to be alive is not as important as wanting to do right," said my sponsor.

“I don’t want to be here," I half blurted, half sobbed.

“I know," came the reply.  “Many of us come in not wanting to live.”

“But sobriety is about living.”

“Yes, and you want to be sober,” said my sponsor.

“But I don’t want to live.”

“This moment.  This moment you don’t want to live but you still want to be sober.  You still want to do right.”

“Yes.”

“And that is what you’ll do.  You’ll pick up the tools as you have done so often and you will try everything suggested.  You’ll see how you feel tomorrow.”

“What if it doesn’t go away?”

“You’ll keep it up and see how you feel the next day.”

“What if I never feel better?”

“Ah, well.  When have you ever had anything that dependable?”

Don’t force joy to simmer let it boil over.

*

Van and I

(Happy cleaning windows)

When the fog clears and I still can’t see,

I check my optics and wash my windows.

The mundane upkeep hones my pursuit.

After the weather and housekeeping concerns

are managed, eye exercises are next on the agenda.

I have to strengthen my equipment,

stay fit or fall prey to vagaries

of nearsighted limits or farsighted failings.

Myopia is an ever present danger

I must guard against as well.

A fixed focus is a death trap.

I must learn to track a moving target

while I wend onward.

Nothing in life is stationary;

concentration and a decent line of sight

are priceless rudiments.

Continual practice with the tools and tactics

build my confidence and sharpen wit.

Burdens are lightened

when I see my goal in stark relief;

I can chart my path and make my way.

Sobriety means if I can see it I can believe it,

so I best go get the Windex.

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

Chapter and Verse

April 28

CHAPTER AND VERSE

I remember being trained and rehearsed for finding the words which would release my soul from bondage.  The scrupulous concern for detail pointed me to heaven.  And yet I drank.  Inside these rooms the path is wide, judgment is suspended and I have the right to be wrong.  The penalties for error can be great but the privilege and risk are mine.  As in all things, the extremists come.  They have come to this place, too.  Thumpers hound and belittle, threaten and cajole. They tell page numbers like punch lines and narrow the field at every opportunity.  I can’t stay sober sitting on my old stool and I can’t maintain this desire by their chapter and their verse.

Notes are numbers, so count out your time and sing your song.

*

Jane Street

The space between wanting to live

and not wanting to hurt

is the alley in which I live.

This lane is not as narrow as you might think,

In some places there is room for parking on one side.

Since I reside here more often than not

I have filled it with many of the appliances,

which allow me to pretend at life.

It doesn’t afford a truly clean or cheerful locale,

but there are laughs, sometimes flowers in the spring.

Finding my way out of this is tricky.

When unlocked I find these are backdoors to commerce

and though better than being sold wholesale,

retail is not what I was hoping to find

as I wrest myself from a confined existence.

I have heard of those who

drive through plate glass ignoring the structure.

I think this is less workable from the back.

What is left when I can’t bully or climb?

I guess I will have to throw my hands up and pray.