Miraculous

December 3

MIRACULOUS

Sometimes the blind lead the deaf.  The subtle signs are the bumping into trouble and inability to listen to reason.  It is an expedition into disaster unfettered by common sense or boundaries.  Tumbles and falls propel this pairing to unknown destinations.  The attraction is baffling but undeniable.  These pairs can be seen through the ages.  In spite of this confounding coupling, sometimes the blind find their way and the deaf hear the call.  And even when they don’t, life seems to roll along.  But try to keep your eyes and ears open anyway.

Set the goalpost where you can see it.

*

Precious Cargo

Do I carry myself as well as I could?

Do I understand the value

of what is contained within me?

This journey matters,

it requires my attention and comprehension,

if only I am able.

When I fall short the road changes.

The distance I go has much to do with how well

and whether I acknowledge the nature of the cargo

with which I am embedded.

Vlog:  http://youtu.be/iPT2N2sthu4

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

Archimedes Put a Boulder in my Path

October 28

ARCHIMEDES PUT A BOULDER IN MY PATH

Place a lever under the boulder and press down, never so hard as to warp the lever.  Move the pivot and push under in a new place.  Keep doing this until you have pushed deeply and well from every aspect of the boulder in your path.  This works every time, not because it dislodges the boulder but because it somehow changes me.  The path may also appear different and often the boulder drops from view.  It may not be gone but seems less intractable.  My life goes on.  I have found it important to retain my lever and pivot; there is never just one boulder.

Invent a new greeting.

*

To Your Health

Health is a pleasure;

health restored is celebration

girded with gratitude.

The shock of illness quickly imbeds itself

to an irrefutable unchangeable fact.

When this veil is lifted the body responds with glee,

the soul with relief touched with disbelief.

The satisfaction of being hale is the bedrock

and once this is shaken

its return is nothing more than astonishing.

I am never more aware of the miraculous nature of life

than when I feel alive once more

after having felt the doom of sickness.

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

Battleship

October 13

BATTLESHIP

If the first is a guess, what is the second?  Paranoia? Or worse?  Action is a blessing, reaction a debilitation, and to twist from reaction to self-doubt sinks the battle and the battleship.  When I can’t make sense, the gift is stepping back.  Better to put my hand down than to lose the farm.  When I find myself in a minefield, I can walk gingerly or wait for aide from above, air rescue or other.  The option of rethinking every step sets me dancing; the tune, which begins this hurky jerky polka of death, stems from the metronome of criticism playing in my ear.  When I am overwhelmed with critique I give up acceptance of chance or the joy of spontaneity, throwing myself into a pit of apprehension.  I am safer being wrong occasionally than unsure forever.

Study an old map and find a new way.

*

Message with no Bottle

I found a note while I was cleaning the art cupboard.

It was written in my hand.

I don’t remember writing it, or thinking it for that matter.

The note said,

“Total disregard for the survival of your soul”

and I have no idea if it was a warning or a suggestion;

a place to start or a destination at which not to arrive.

If it was written during one of those dark days

it could be the former,

I hope it is the latter;

a sign post on my recovery road.

I bring it out here to write to you about it,

share it and take me to a place

where I am no longer alone with this flyer.

I sit down to the keyboard

lift the note to read it again with care.

I scan the edges for clues

and see that it is a memo sheet torn in half.

When I flip it, on the back I see,

“2 loaves & 5 fishes to feed a multitude”

and though I may not believe in that miracle

I do believe in this one.

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

Far Off Places

July 18

FAR OFF PLACES

Meetings too near home are unsatisfying to me.  On smooth, simple days local meetings are fine; I catch a meeting, just slip it in.  On rough days I yearn for an out of town meeting.  After these many 24’s I’ve come to realize I need the ride as much as I need the meeting.  Like a discontented baby I need more than just a trip around the block.  The comfort of taking flight in my car is equaled by arriving at some far off AA. Fresh faces and new-takes-on-old-woes are an antidote to my colicky attitude.  The drive back offers me a sense of triumphant homecoming.  A good meeting can be had anywhere.  Sometimes I just need a change of place or change of pace.

Keep a lock of your own hair.

*

Cicatrix and Love

The mark left by injury is indelible

though it may heal, the consequence remains.

This is also true of love.

I am branded and changed by your affection.

The improvement wrought in me does not leave when you do.

If you stop loving me,

can you no longer remember my name,

 my face,

my sigh;

I am better for having had your love if only for a short time.

Good medicine offers lasting results;

the miracle of your love is my health.

The blush in my cheek,

the revitalization I feel is traceable to you,

to the days you held me in your heart

and the nights you held me in your arms.

And though I want you back in my world

the best of you lives on in 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

Message with No Bottle

October 12

Message with no Bottle

I found a note while I was cleaning the art cupboard.  It was written in my hand.  I don’t remember writing it, or thinking it for that matter.  The note said, “Total disregard for the survival of your soul” and I have no idea if it was a warning or a suggestion; a place to start or a destination at which not to arrive.  If it was written during one of those dark days it could be the former, I hope it is the latter; a sign post on my recovery road.  I bring it out here to write to you about it, share it and take me to a place where I am no longer alone with this flyer.  I sit down to the keyboard lift the note to read it again with care.  I scan the edges for clues and see that it is a memo sheet torn in half and when I flip it, on the back I see, “2 loaves & 5 fishes to feed a multitude”  and though I may not believe in that miracle I do believe in this one.

Don’t keep good night sweetness in the bowl, pour it out

*

ABUNDANCE OF WATER

Waterfalls fail the catch basin
And runs off to make mud slide from the hills.
Power showers down but the channels it uses
Are not always beneficial.

High tide with the push of tsunami wipes out the coast.
Water is the stuff of life but God forbid it get out of control
There is no living with it.
I cannot regulate the weather but today I have a plan.

I don’t have to stand out waiting to see how much will come down.
I may not have every contingency covered,
I do have a backup for the worse than average season.
Yes, I did dig myself a French-drain
But I started by not living on the flood plain.

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

The Story as a Stowaway

November 20

The Story as a Stowaway

I want to tell you a story, but I want to tell it to you quickly, so I can give it to you and then you can carry it on your way. For what good is my story to you if you must leave it where it lay? Your need to be elsewhere presses on us both and I wish to give you what you can take rather than to try to stall you here for an epic you might never lift and certainly not dream of dragging along. I want you to be on your way and take a part of me with you. I wish to sew myself in your mind; tether my tale to your soul. I believe in forward motion and the need to carry on. Where you’re going I can’t go on my own but I know that if I am funny, quick and lite, part of me goes even to the end of your world and my hope is to help you make it bright.

Apprentice yourself to collaboration

*

MIRACULOUS

Sometimes the blind lead the deaf.
The subtle signs are the bumping into trouble
And the inability to listen to reason.
It is an expedition into disaster.

Unfettered by common sense or boundaries
Tumbles and falls propel this pairing
To unknown destinations.
The attraction is baffling but undeniable.

These pairs can be seen through the ages.
In spite of this confounding coupling
Sometimes the blind find their way
And the deaf hear the call.

Even when they don’t life seems to roll along
But try to keep your eyes and ears open anyway.

Message with no Bottle

October 12

Message with no Bottle

I found a note while I was cleaning the art cupboard. It was written in my hand. I don’t remember writing it, or thinking it for that matter. The note said, “Total disregard for the survival of your soul” and I have no idea if it was a warning or a suggestion; a place to start or a destination at which not to arrive. If it was written during one of those dark days it could be the former, I hope it is the latter; a sign post on my recovery road. I bring it out here to write to you about it, share it and take me to a place where I am no longer alone with this flyer. I sit down to the keyboard lift the note to read it again with care. I scan the edges for clues and see that it is a memo sheet torn in half and when I flip it, on the back I see, “2 loaves & 5 fishes to feed a multitude” and though I may not believe in that miracle I do believe in this one.

Don’t keep good night sweetness in the bowl, pour it out

*

ABUNDANCE OF WATER

Waterfalls fail the catch basin
And runs off to make mud slide from the hills.
Power showers down but the channels it uses
Are not always beneficial.

High tide with the push of tsunami wipes out the coast.
Water is the stuff of life but God forbid it get out of control
There is no living with it.
I cannot regulate the weather but today I have a plan.

I don’t have to stand out waiting to see how much will come down.
I may not have every contingency covered,
I do have a backup for the worse than average season.
Yes, I did dig myself a French-drain
But I started by not living on the flood plain.

Go where it's warm

August 17

Go where it’s warm

The intangible rightness of cohesion is difficult to explain. What is it that makes a group congregating into a congregation? What makes a rag tag tousle into a home group? It is the thing I yearn for, but dare not chase. I know this too makes a grub into a butterfly, yet private transformation seems necessary, where the change of masses is gratuitous. A thousand geese fly overhead; arrows of individual miracles, pointing the way to the meaning of it all.

Score your rhythm so you can reflect the music of your soul

*

THE DREAMER

What about the dreamer?

What about her, responds my sponsor.

You ask me about her like I was the one

Who pushed her off the cliff.

Are you saying I pushed her,

I questioned my sponsor.

Yes, that is just what I am saying.

Do you need me to sing it?

You wanted the dreamer to fly off,

To safety and happiness

And wanted her to take you with her.

In an attempt to grab hold of her ankles

And propel her to heaven

You threw her off the precipice.

Now she is broken and bleeding

Far from your sight

Your dreamer is damaged

And you ask about her?

Do you want to know what you did

And how to remedy it

Or were you looking to duck responsibility?

QUACK------

Message with no Bottle

October 12

Message with no Bottle

I found a note while I was cleaning the art cupboard. It was written in my hand. I don’t remember writing it, or thinking it for that matter. The note said, “Total disregard for the survival of your soul” and I have no idea if it was a warning or a suggestion; a place to start or a destination at which not to arrive. If it was written during one of those dark days it could be the former, I hope it is the latter; a sign post on my recovery road. I bring it out here to write to you about it, share it and take me to a place where I am no longer alone with this flyer. I sit down to the keyboard lift the note to read it again with care. I scan the edges for clues and see that it is a memo sheet torn in half and when I flip it, on the back I see, “2 loaves & 5 fishes to feed a multitude” and though I may not believe in that miracle I do believe in this one.

Don’t keep good night sweetness in the bowl, pour it out

*

ABUNDANCE OF WATER

Waterfalls fail the catch basin
And run off to make mud slide from the hills.
Power showers down but the channels it uses
Are not always beneficial.

High tide with the push of tsunami wipes out the coast.
Water is the stuff of life but God forbid it get out of control
There is no living with it.
I cannot regulate the weather but today I have a plan.

I don’t have to stand out waiting to see how much will come down.
I may not have every contingency covered,
I do have a backup for the worse than average season.
Yes, I did dig myself a French-drain
But I started by not living on the flood plain.