Hiding

February 18

Hiding

“Defeat is what you make of it,” says my sponsor.  “Fighting a thousand secret battles when you claim that you want peace is not right.  The agony of defeat is when you keep on fighting.  There is no honor in waving the white flag, but never laying down your arms.”

“I can’t just give them up they have been in the family for years,” my whining retort.

“I’m sure they have, darling, I’m sure they have, and haven’t done any of you a lick of good either,” her smug reply.

“They are good for sabotage,” I begin my running start at her.

“Sabotage is something you only do to yourself, because who else can you really sabotage?  Who do you really hate enough other than you?”

“My hobby is denying that, you know.”

“Yes, and sweet lot of good it does you, the war rages within you and outside you say it’s harmony, no matter all the signs of discord.”

“And if I were to really give up.  If, I were really tired enough, how can I insure my safety?” I asked with my hands nearly in the air.

“Tell the truth, even if it’s only to your self.  Put space between you and weapons of mass destruction.  Oh, and make sure you surrender to a friend.”

Loosen your grasp as often as you can

*

LIFE IS UNFAIR

Assuring myself I will not be permitted through the gate,
I walk the perimeter assessing the fence,
Looking for a place to exploit, a wire slightly high.
Trying to look graceful, I duck under the fence.

Telling myself I prefer life on the edge.
The water is less dangerous here on the fringe.
I wouldn't want to be swept away.

I stay clear of my peers.
I stand in the baby pool and feel confidant I won't drown.
Brushing from my conscience that I won't swim either.

Struggling to the top of the pile or scurrying underneath
Is a blatant lack of humility
Skirting the margin is the same.

Facing life and finding it unfair
I take to the world of exception
And hope to slip through the cracks to a life of safety.
In that act, I discount my talent and ability.
Worst of all, I disconnect from God.

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

Water Proof

December 18

WATER PROOF

What could water prove anyway?  I get in the water and I get wet.  I’m sure there is a theorem but a proof is highly doubtful.  Naiads dance with tridents in their hands illustrating the beauty and danger of the waves but this certifies nothing.  Juiceless arid dirt can make no claims either.  I see the ducks take flight pushing the air with their wings and the rivulets trailing from webs.  This is the thing to scoot beneath at the surface, take sustenance and pleasure, but never to become so saturated that the air is lost.  Waterproof… is the way to go.

Give preconceived notions a place on the shelf or in the can but no place in your life.

*

Lame

I easily identify the big mistakes of my life,

but fail to recognize or report the little mistakes

that I make, mistakes, which cost me so much.

Repetitive irresponsibility has the effect of water torture;

drip, drip, drip and my peace of mind is worn away.

What can I say of what I refuse to see?

It was there all along like the view covered by the shade.

Who is to blame for not raising the curtain?

It may be me, may not, but I am the one who suffers,

I am the one who misses out.

Missing the opportunity to grow out of these

small deficiencies leaves me with a lifelong handicap

and I am not just speaking of my blindness,

but also how they make me lame.

Vlog: http://youtu.be/qcBxKOeyusw

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

Tooth Fairy

August 2

TOOTH FAIRY

I slide my hand under the pillow and am disappointed not to find a quarter.  I feel I deserve one though I didn’t leave a tooth; I did leave my bite.  I’ve toned down my bark a bit too.  It has not been easy; I have spent much of my life snapping and growling at the world around me.  I have shortened the leash on these reactive behaviors, many I have put to bed all together.  Improved conduct is prize enough but I surely would enjoy a winged visitor if only just for fun.

Applaud your performance.

*

In Plain Sight

When there is a problem, I hide.

As the good places diminish

I end up standing behind a pole.

The trouble with this is

that something always sticks out.

I try weight loss, I suck in my tummy,

I try to blend with the scenery.

Once spotted I act nonchalant;

“I’m just hanging around with my skinny friend;

nothing is the matter,” attempting to cover

with a casual aside what is apparent to everyone but me.

I would be better off parading naked

than endeavoring this piteous disguise.

I can’t fool the crowd and trying to makes a fool of me.

What I have forgotten is that clarity and diligence

removes the target from my back

and makes me invisible to almost everyone.

When I solve my problem I solve this problem too.

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

Queen's Counenance

May 13

QUEEN’S COUNTENANCE

I know the 7 P’s of preparation.  I set the table for those I know.  The unexpected arrive clothed in time and tradition.  They seat themselves at the table with the naked.  They become mute.  We prattle and pose, rarely glimpsing the goals sitting at the unset seats.  What we need to become is far from what we are.  I can not even call it other.  It is within when we make room and ether when we won’t.  I can wait and try but the juice is deep with the pulp.  I get myself in line for the future and wait for the clothes offered by my guests.  I sit the emperor and rise the queen.

Hear the sweetness in your own voice; taste the salt in your own tears.

*

Madame Alexander

I am, too naïve;

if you show me kindness I will believe you,

follow you, obey you, so, I have rules.

These rules do not protect me,

but they do make a box for me to seal myself inside.

Where I will ship myself, stack myself, hide myself,

well, that I do not know.

I pull the flaps down

and pray not to have to make any real decisions.

I fold my arms and close my mind

Believing I could never adequately open it enough

to safely live in the world outside of this closet.

Here I sit wondering what to write on this label

in order to be left alone

All the while longing for true love

a thing never given to a quivering china doll

shut up in a carton at the bottom of a wardrobe.

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

Un-imbedded

July 27

Un-imbedded

This week I have decided to be braver about where I invest my time, not all of it mind you but a portion of my diligent yet strangely unproductive time.  I have to say I am realizing that I hide in pretty much every area of my life and that is no way to live and a really bad example to offer.  The worst thing about hiding is it doesn't keep me safe; it just subjects me to different evils.  It reminds me of that poor reporter who was imbedded in a tank and he died from not moving and his blood pooling and dehydration, so the tank kept him from getting his head shot off, but killed him in a different way, so in the end he wasn't safe and neither am I.  I believe in prudence as a good policy, I do, but there is much that could make me stronger, happier, better, if I lift my head a bit and reach out my hand.

Defrost things which freeze you in place

*

ALICE

Because I even wore out my welcome

at the Mad Hatters house,

I can sit on my hands at my sponsors table

And listen, listen, listen.

If I had been able to make a place for myself

with the looking glass folk

I could never let myself loose my eccentricities

And join in the fellowship.

Going down further than a rabbit hole

I lost my need to chase or scramble after bunnies

For time or card tricks.

No more illusions for me.

I am awake and shaded

by the tree of AA branching over me

Sisters I didn’t know take my hand.

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

Madame Alexander

May 15

Madame Alexander

I am, too naïve; if you show me kindness I will believe you, follow you, obey you, so, I have rules.  These rules do not protect me, but they do make a box for me to seal myself inside.  Where I will ship myself, stack myself; hide myself so well, that even I do not know.  I pull the flaps down and pray not to have to make any real decisions.  I fold my arms and close my mind, believing I could never adequately open it enough to safely live in the world outside of this closet.  Here I sit wondering what to write on this label in order to be left alone all the while longing for true love, a thing never given to a quivering china doll shut up in a carton at the bottom of a wardrobe.

Make a suggestion box for your heart

*

CELEBRATIONS

You wore a wrist corsage to the dump?

You said to celebrate every activity

I retorted to my sponsor

Yes, by doing them with purpose.

Not everything needs to be a production number

Sometimes just showing up is enough

Putting to much energy into preparation

Can leave you without resources

It’s okay to make an appearance

Do the simple act and move on

That is a celebration in its own way

Don’t squander your vitality on the mundane.

Do you know what I mean, asks my sponsor?

Don’t waste flowers on trash heaps, I answer

Yes, and don’t wipe your bottom with poetry

I mention this in case you get any ideas!

The Key You See

April 11

The Key You See

The key you see is letting you, accept me.  Oh, how I hide from that, run from that, flee from that.  I must be in control of what you think of me.  I curtain off the view of me I don’t wish to share with you.  Add to that the unusual choices of what I hide.  I will strip down with all the lights blazing long before I would let you see me drop the ball, be confused, misunderstand.  What I truly fail to realize is that in the process of trying to hide my faux pas and fumbles; what I show you is my controlling ass.  Backside bare I moon you with my freak show trying to hide my humanity. Your compassion and tolerant waiting for me to calm down and open my eyes is the key I fail to see about you.

Learn the difference between area and circumference

*

RANK

I took an area level service position

And my sponsor laughed herself off her chair

What is your motivation for this?  she asked

I want to move up through the service structure, my reply

Are you trying to make rank?

Problem with that? I ask

Ever heard of self-fulfilling prophecy

You will become what you desire

You will become rank

And you will stink

The triangle is inverted to help you clean up your act

Don’t get washed away in a tide of ego

I put down my swim fins

And removed my epilates

Hiding

February 18

Hiding

“Defeat is what you make of it,” says my sponsor.  “Fighting a thousand secret battles when you claim that you want peace is not right.  The agony of defeat is when you keep on fighting.  There is no honor in waving the white flag, but never laying down your arms.”

“I can’t just give them up they have been in the family for years,” my whining retort.

“I’m sure they have, darling, I’m sure they have, and haven’t done any of you a lick of good either,” her smug reply.

“They are good for sabotage,” I begin my running start at her.

“Sabotage is something you only do to yourself, because who else can you really sabotage?  Who do you really hate enough other than you?”

“My hobby is denying that, you know.”

“Yes, and sweet lot of good it does you, the war rages within you and outside you say it’s harmony, no matter all the signs of discord.”

“And if I were to really give up.  If, I were really tired enough, how can I insure my safety?” I asked with my hands nearly in the air.

“Tell the truth, even if it’s only to your self.  Put space between you and weapons of mass destruction.  Oh, and make sure you surrender to a friend.”

Loosen your grasp as often as you can

*

LIFE IS UNFAIR

Assuring myself I will not be permitted through the gate,
I walk the perimeter assessing the fence,
Looking for a place to exploit, a wire slightly high.
Trying to look graceful, I duck under the fence.

Telling myself I prefer life on the edge.
The water is less dangerous here on the fringe.
I wouldn't want to be swept away.

I stay clear of my peers.
I stand in the baby pool and feel confidant I won't drown.
Brushing from my conscience that I won't swim either.

Struggling to the top of the pile or scurrying underneath
Is a blatant lack of humility
Skirting the margin is the same.

Facing life and finding it unfair
I take to the world of exception
And hope to slip through the cracks to a life of safety.
In that act, I discount my talent and ability.
Worst of all, I disconnect from God.

Campaign

August 24

CAMPAIGN

Sobriety is the Santa Claus, bringing delightful gifts, which make me smile.  Recovery is the Genie, which comes from staying out of bottles.  This Jin makes treasure possible but doesn’t bring it to my door.  The ads and billboards of illusion built a world of booze but no hope for a real life.  I have learned to turn from all the lies of picking up, and live in the possibilities, which open only when I put down the drinking and the thinking.  I don’t need to pin up stockings or rub lamps, just take direction and make willingness my campaign.

Store thoughts, plant seeds.

*

Just Say NO to Bushel Baskets

Spending my life under a bushel basket

kept me from realizing who I am.

I thought because of the close quarters

I knew myself better than those free

to explore the world, yet, alas, no.

I am unaware of the world outside and inside the bin;

this woven covering served to sever

all true communications.

Even in places where my candle burned through,

it couldn’t allow sufficient light, in or out,

for as much as an SOS or a night light.

Here I am, not knowing my abilities…

my possibilities…. or my worth

and there is the world standing,

a startled stranger from me,

for I only know it as the circle

around my feet and nothing more.

Tooth Fairy

August 2

TOOTH FAIRY

I slide my hand under the pillow and am disappointed not to find a quarter.  I feel I deserve one though I didn’t leave a tooth; I did leave my bite.  I’ve toned down my bark a bit too.  It has not been easy; I have spent much of my life snapping and growling at the world around me.  I have shortened the leash on these reactive behaviors, many I have put to bed all together.  Improved conduct is prize enough but I surely would enjoy a winged visitor if only just for fun.

Applaud your performance.

*

In Plain Sight

When there is a problem, I hide.

As the good places diminish

I end up standing behind a pole.

The trouble with this is

that something always sticks out.

I try weight loss, I suck in my tummy,

I try to blend with the scenery.

Once spotted I act nonchalant;

“I’m just hanging around with my skinny friend;

nothing is the matter,” attempting to cover

with a casual aside what is apparent to everyone but me.

I would be better off parading naked

than endeavoring this piteous disguise.

I can’t fool the crowd and trying to makes a fool of me.

What I have forgotten is that clarity and diligence

removes the target from my back

and makes me invisible to almost everyone.

When I solve my problem I solve this problem too.

In Plain Sight

August 2

In Plain Sight

When there is a problem, I hide. As the good places diminish I end up standing behind a pole. The trouble with this is that something always sticks out. I try weight loss, I suck in my tummy, I try to blend with the scenery. Once spotted I act nonchalant; “I’m just hanging around with my skinny friend; nothing is the matter,” attempting to cover with a casual aside what is apparent to everyone but me. I would be better off parading naked than endeavoring this piteous disguise. I can’t fool the crowd and trying to makes a fool of me. What I have forgotten is that clarity and diligence removes the target from my back and makes me invisible to almost everyone. When I solve my problem I solve this problem too.

Permit anxiety to drip off you and flow away

*

WALKING JOY HOME

I make sure to walk joy home,

Not because I doubt her ability to find it alone

Rather because it gives me extra time with her.

I used to fear joy.

That I would be intoxicated by her presents

And lose my well-hardened grasp on realism.

Now I see that without joy in my life there is no realism

That it was only cynicism

Masquerading in its place.

Joy is simple and unassuming,

I often confuse her with ecstasy and scoot away in shy terror

Joy is nice to have around she is not just a party animal.

Sometimes I invite her over for a cup of tea.

When we are done I take the winding path

To savor every step up to her door.

Fair Fish

October 15

Fair Fish

Tiny thoughts ping pong around my head hoping to win a goldfish, but what do I need with a five dollar fish? How often do I pay too dearly, for what is merely an animated ornament? When I falter in self-esteem I look to decorate my life through hostage taking and other unfair practices. I know I want to feel safe, know that hiding gives the illusion of that. It’s like the joke told about banging sticks to keep the tigers away. Does it work? Yes, of course as long as you are in a place with no tigers. I can distract myself, but I can not distract life; life goes on and takes me with it, no matter my disguise. Given this I can either; spend my time with a blindfold and a cigarette waiting for the end or walk the midway and go ride the tilt-a-whirl.

Sit still until the day unwinds a little

*

MISSING

The good times we never had but should have.
The pleasantries I endured waiting for pleasure.
I remember you potential with fondness.

The days, the weeks, the years,
I waited for you to grow to me have past
And yet time is what I have -----not you.

Hope is a wonderful thing until it turns on me and bites.
Images I built have tumbled
And colors wash from your portrait

I carefully remind myself
It is the idea of you I miss
Not you.

Just Say NO to Bushel Baskets

August 24

Just Say NO to Bushel Baskets

Spending my life under a bushel basket kept me from realizing who I am. I thought because of the close quarters I knew myself better than those free to explore the world, yet, alas, no. I am unaware of the world outside and inside the bin; this woven covering served to sever all true communications. Even in places where my candle burned through, it couldn’t allow sufficient light, in or out, for as much as an SOS or a night light. Here I am, not knowing my abilities… my possibilities…. or my worth and there is the world, standing a startled stranger from me, for I only know it as the circle around my feet and nothing more.

Manipulate your mind until it is supple and flexible

*

HARD TIMES

Sometimes I pack the earth down so hard

that weeds can’t even grow up through.

I try to make nature inert.

I try to kill my alcoholism.

I confine my disease to this tiny path of compacted dirt

and wear blinders as to ward off distractions.

I forget there is a garden to be grown

in the fertile ground of my recovering mind.

Losing the compulsion to drink is a gift.

Stopping my mind from thinking is soul murder.

I can sink my toes in the good brown soil

and look to the lilies and Queen Ann’s Lace for inspiration

.

I can stop giving myself such a hard time.

In Plain Sight

August 2

In Plain Sight

When there is a problem, I hide. As the good places diminish I end up standing behind a pole. The trouble with this is that something always sticks out. I try weight loss, I suck in my tummy, I try to blend with the scenery. Once spotted I act nonchalant; “I’m just hanging around with my skinny friend; nothing is the matter,” attempting to cover with a casual aside what is apparent to everyone but me. I would be better off parading naked than endeavoring this piteous disguise. I can’t fool the crowd and trying to makes a fool of me. What I have forgotten is that clarity and diligence removes the target from my back and makes me invisible to almost everyone. When I solve my problem I solve this problem too.

Permit anxiety to drip off you and flow away

*

WALKING JOY HOME

I make sure to walk joy home,

Not because I doubt her ability to find it alone

Rather because it gives me extra time with her.

I used to fear joy.

That I would be intoxicated by her presents

And lose my well-hardened grasp on realism.

Now I see that without joy in my life there is no realism

That it was only cynicism

Masquerading in its place.

Joy is simple and unassuming,

I often confuse her with ecstasy and scoot away in shy terror

Joy is nice to have around she is not just a party animal.

Sometimes I invite her over for a cup of tea.

When we are done I take the winding path

To savor every step up to her door.

Un-inbedded

July 27

Un-imbedded

This week I have decided to be braver about where I invest my time, not all of it mind you but a portion of my diligent yet strangely unproductive time. I have to say I am realizing that I hide in pretty much every area of my life and that is no way to live and a really bad example to offer. The worst thing about hiding is it doesn't keep me safe; it just subjects me to different evils. It reminds me of that poor reporter who was imbedded in a tank and he died from not moving and his blood pooling and dehydration, so the tank kept him from getting his head shot off, but killed him in a different way, so in the end he wasn't safe and neither am I. I believe in prudence as a good policy, I do, but there is much that could make me stronger, happier, better, if I lift my head a bit and reach out my hand.

Defrost things which freeze you in place

*

ALICE

Because I even wore out my welcome

at the Mad Hatters house,

I can sit on my hands at my sponsors table

And listen, listen, listen.

If I had been able to make a place for myself

with the looking glass folk

I could never let myself loose my eccentricities

And join in the fellowship.

Going down further than a rabbit hole

I lost my need to chase or scramble after bunnies

For time or card tricks.

No more illusions for me.

I am awake and shaded

by the tree of AA branching over me

Sisters I didn’t know take my hand.