Origins

December 7

ORIGINS

Pain-filled interactions with people better suited to be left alone changed me in the way of acceptance.  Wretched relationships with people made it difficult for me to have a loving relationship with the world.  I had imprinted as a fledgling on sarcasm and ridicule, bitter milk that starved my expectations of kind response.  I could not greet the world eagerly.  Having never embraced the world I failed to hang on as it turned.  I slid on my face and hands.  Mud covered, I try to keep an open mind and attempt a connection with this spinning orb.

Color your emotions.

*

Flight 548

What a happy flight wing to wing,

smiles, good cheer, the air is kind,

sweet, dry, easy to breathe.

I am so blessed.

I fly to destiny

watching the traveling baby circus

play around me.

Giggles and drool surround me,

infuse me with glee.

People wander the isle

looking like well loved characters

from long forgotten books and we soar.

Time does not pass any more quickly this way,

but it is similar to time in heaven

rather than time spent in hell.

Vlog: http://youtu.be/3cbyYoE_W-E

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

Touch Your Toes

December 20

Touch Your Toes

Funny how we deal with feet.  I have seen a woman cradle hers and treat it like the dearest babe. I know some folks who shun their feet; can barely stand to think of them, let alone to touch them.  There are the Mani-Pedi people who leave it in the hands of others.  I met a guy who soaks them soft and tucks little bits of cotton under the corners of his nails.  I know too, the woman with the snarling crusty dogs that serve to others as a warning.  My grandma warns me not complain about my shoes lest I meet the man who has no feet, but I doubt I would fit in his.

Borrow brilliance

*

MUD PIES

Mud pies and retro-childhood
Are for the hurt ones, small and angry inside me.
They require care and special attention
But I can’t stop with them.

Saving children to starve the adolescents is a sad fate
Or abandoning adults after bringing them all this way
Is indescribably cruel.

I cannot work on healing
All the while waiting for some ice flow
To shove myself off on.

There is never a time I am not the responsible party
For the people who inhabit my interior life
I live their reflections every day.

There is no one-way mirror
With which to hide unresolved issues
No rug to sweep them under
They flow through me like a river

I must return them to breed new health
As a salmon swims back to the waters
Of its birth to bring new life.

I must brave the complexities of maturity
I cannot just sit in the mud

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

Leaves in a Pile

October 30

LEAVES IN A PILE

As a great pile of dry leaves, lay the problem.  Running through it to show my disrespect accomplishes nothing but to scatter my dilemma and widen the area of distress.  Covering and composting only allows the burden to indwell, leaching into that which feeds my soul.  Burning puts it in the air I breathe.  There is no galaxy far off enough to keep its reflection from my face.  Attack, flight, banishment?  No!  Insulation, conversion, contortion?  No!  I pursue none of these; I can not control things exterior.  I can not feed my power, light and life into the pile.  I have only one goal: not to become the problem.  Not to dry or dehydrate.  Not to fall from my hope and collect in the road.  My goal is to hold fast to hope and serve as conduit and companion to a life bigger than mine alone.

Practice little words like ‘oh’, and ‘hum’

*

Entrenched

I have dug myself a trench

and invited my friends and family.

Truth is, I drug many and tricked others

and there they are in the trench

I have so recently climbed out of.

It is a nasty place and I feel horribly responsible,

but here is the sacred truth;

I can’t climb down there again,

not even on a rescue mission.

I am obligated to help them, this is for sure,

but the fact still remains that it is not safe

to get into the water with a drowning person,

even if I am the one who caused the drowning.

If I am to be of any help at all I must get my footing

and keep it safely on the bank

and only then might I be able to throw down a rope

or lend a hand to anyone, especially those I love.

I pray for the sturdy stance of helpful strangers

and try my best to cause no further harm,

more than that will have to wait

until my cleats are soundly lodged into the earth

and my head is squarely upon my shoulders,

for headlong and mud covered I am no help.