Black and Blue Prints

February 15

Black and Blue Prints

Building hell from plans I found in the attic; furnishing it with what was left in the basement didn’t make a life but it did keep me occupied.  Activity insulates me from living; camouflaging the windswept landscape I claw across turning my face from the oasis believing I have perfected a mirage.  I have battered my hope and tied her in the corner the corner which I built from the blue prints I used to turn my life black

Turn up in the best places, turn up when needed, turn up the corners of your mouth

*

THE DEALS I'VE MADE

Because they are deals and not resentments or secrets
These circular schemes did not come out in my fourth step.
They didn't come out in the wash.
They come out whenever they are broken.

If the deal is-Don't eat pickled herring
And you won't remember X
The deal will be broken when pickled herring
Is served to me at some social gathering.

As I get healthier, the breaks connect evermore deeply.
What in early sobriety would have given me unexplained discomfort
Now gives me full-blown flashbacks
And I watch the deal unravel.

I wasn't supposed to eat this
Because this was on my plate-------When
But now that it's on the plate here----Now
I have to face this ugly roiling mess.

The deals saved my life
But unless they are handled with care and honesty
They can cost me the life I have now.

I must choose a safe person and place
To share these broken shards with.
Living alone with this will not work
And making it public fodder is a setup as well.

In every one of these deals
There is a back door to a drink
And therefore WE have to go out the front door together.

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

Renting Joy

July 4

RENTING JOY

I cannot buy happiness.  No matter how much money I spend, how hard I work, I can never pay bliss off on lay away.  The angles of escape for glee are phenomenal.  I see runaway emotions and must concede ownership.  When opportunities arise for satisfaction I pay the fare and take the trip.  The boat isn’t mine to keep but the tour is forever in my heart.  I can’t take it home to bury it in the yard.  Like a wild thing I can leave joy where I find it.  I never need to cage or bind it.  I need to enjoy each measure while the music plays.  I remunerate for time in proximity; delight arrives and stays as long as it likes.  I linger at the table and enjoy my dessert.  Leasing elation is an occasion of celebration.  Living moment to moment has given me this chance.  So, I take it.

Copy your favorite shape.

*

What is at the Eye of the Storm?

Serenity is the alignment of three knowledges

1. Knowing that I am not without skill, talent, gifts.

2.Knowing that I am not without community,

connection, comfort.

3.Knowing that I am not without God,

whether or not I believe God is able to intervene.

When I am in full or even partial possession of these three

I am safe from storm, or no, drought,

or no, fiery hairy pestilence.

Without this knowledge everything is

storm, drought and pestilence,

no matter what anyone else says or all evidence to the contrary.

I will make my own mess when bereft.

I will pay a large price for ignoring the facts

and the lion’s share of this loss is loss of my serenity

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

Moat

March 6

MOAT

I dug the moat; the alligators came on their own.  The rain fell; I did not bid it.  I’ve burned all the bridges.  I’ve sold the farm.  I wonder at the company I keep.  The birds fly in; some stay for a season.  Friends used to wave as they passed.  Now my island is overgrown; I stand to my chin in the tall grass.  I guess it’s a matter of maintenance.  What I don’t keep pruned grows back.  The connections I don’t secure weaken and fail.  I am subject to all that falls if I don’t keep my roof.  The wind chaps me without the walls of my home.  No clothes, I burn.  No joy and all I do is cry.  It takes more than a continuous ditch to protect my heart.  More than water and reptiles to safeguard my soul.

Memorize an affirmation for a pet.

*

What and When, When and How……and Why

Arriving at the place where I have nothing to prove,

afforded me the luxury of not having to proclaim

the amount of time I have, when I share in a meeting.

Taking the score keeping out of the equation

I was then able to think of what it was

that motivated me to speak in a meeting.

Self-Possession, a great gift to inhabit,

a greater gift to demonstrate;

quiet dignity is a real favorite of mine.

If I am calm yet in control,

if there is time, if there is a lull,

I can share parts of my experience.

If I have chaos, an agenda, a theory, a grudge

it is all better left unsaid in the meeting

and saved for the less vulnerable ear of my sponsor.

For if I am wrong I might persuade in error

and if I am right I might convert in righteousness.

Why is it that what I never say

rings louder than anything I do?

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

The Team

February 21

THE TEAM

The dream sobriety I envision, the fantasy recovery I mentally construct, blows out to sea as so much mist in the face of actual life.  Setting out sports teams, which don’t exist, is playful and entertaining.  Trying to rebuild the principals of the program is a delusion I can drink over.  Finessing my network, and pretending I can put together my team on a basis of specialized talents instead of ground level willingness, is like designing a plane without regard to physics, playing only to aesthetics.  Anytime I am redesigning I must realize I am no longer participating.  If I keep my head in the game, I can stay away from statistics and stop planning outcomes.

Shade your life from undo exposure.

*

Word Comprehension

There were scads and scores of words

that I had at my command.

I could command them that was a fact;

comprehend them that was an illusion.

My sponsor had every confidence in me

and started my word comprehension lessons

with the tough ones first:

“No,” she would ask,

“What don’t you understand the Nnnnnn part

or the OHhhhhh part?”

Took me sometime to catch on to words deep as that.

Serenity that I learned through living Braille.

Learned it like any hungry child, by taste.

Learned it like learning the ocean as you swim in it.

Serenity is my ballast and my bail,

As for peace, all I can say is:

No comprehension, no peace;

know comprehension, know peace.

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

Peace Time

September 23

Peace Time

I have been to the wars and through the wars and now sit on the stoop and wonder; will I learn to live here in the world of everyday after having had to spend so much time running for cover.  Each time I return to what I believe is my home I sit and rock trying to pour my soul back inside from my hipflask where it was held for safekeeping.  I try not to spill a drop for it is worse than shed blood and harder to rebuild.  My soul has grown pale from confinement and lack of sun, but it still exists and for that I pat my back and suck on my Lifesaver; I could have done worse, was unable to do better.  I console myself with the knowledge I never started the conflict just learned to survive it.

Substitute action for apathy

*

REMEMBERING

Remembering is the oxygen my brain pumps to my soul.

Remembering gives me mobility and traction.

Everything in my life that is positive depends on my remembering.

It keeps apathy at bay

And complacency locked in some far off cupboard.

Remembering gives today the misty sweetness I have grown to love.

I can live to my potential and enjoy the process.

Watch misery move away.

I can dream the future every night

Because I remember who I am and what I am capable of.

Never can I be haunted.

Memory keeps me from reactionary visitation.

Though some fear the past

I know holding it in a close embrace

Allows me to dance to the rhythm of truth.

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

In the Beginning is the End

June 21

In the Beginning is the End

I wonder if the road would show the reflection of its end would I walk down it still.  I always decide that I wouldn't want to miss anything, not even the most painful things, yet this may simply be a flaw in my upbringing. An over-valuing of survival.  What of you?  If the knowledge of beginning and end were within your grasp would you begin?  Would you flee the end?  This end or every end?  Or is it the beginning that you fear?  And why not, for doesn’t every beginning hold within it every end?

Enjoy the season you find yourself in

*

THE POODLE

Those pointed toes, slender legs

Carry her across my outstretched mid.

What a blessing to be sober long enough

To have never done any unseemly or frightful thing

Which might have caused apprehension in this firefly of a dog.

I read until she lays her neck over my mouth

For her kisses and ear rubs.

She is the center of the universe and I needn’t compete

I am content to serve as a resting place and nurse maid

I no longer look to be everyone’s pet.

I can pamper and indulge this little one

She has the whole stage to herself.

I can be her faithful audience

Having given up my farce.

Word Comprehension

February 21

Word Comprehension

There were scads and scores of words that I had at my command.  I could command them that was a fact; comprehend them that was an illusion.  My sponsor had every confidence in me and started my word comprehension lessons with the tough ones first: “No,” she would ask, “What don’t you understand the Nnnnnn part or the OHhhhhh part?” Took me sometime to catch on to words deep as that.  Serenity that I learned through living Braille.  Learned it like any hungry child, by taste.  Learned it like learning the ocean as you swim in it.  Serenity is my ballast and my bail, as for peace, all I can say is: No comprehension, no peace; Know comprehension, know peace.

Re-pattern fear

*

SEAM ALLOWANCES

The space, given and taken.
The space used to bind and sew us fast.
The permission for humanness
And the need for seams to make us whole.

The narrow margin is a shoulder on which I lean.
Slender strip, a place of refuge.
Darts are shaped to hug the curves,
I bend to fit to life.

Our nearness, being my own part and part of more,
Planning and a pattern, cut to order,
With allowances made for fraying and fragility,
Allow me to feel woven into a web of what is
And still hope for more

The unfinished garment taking shape
Easing and stretching
And before my eyes
Pins held between the teeth of God.

Do We See

December 14

DO WE SEE

The old man walked down the road to see the end; I followed to glimpse the fruit of his pursuit.  Does the highway come to rest or like the river just feed a greater sea?  And time; will the clock stop him? Can he win the treasure hunt as the seconds tick away on the metronome?  Will the slowing of his steps and the advancing of his age create a curve, which will prevent his accomplishment?  Does this tag-along I am doing make me a part of his project?  The road is long and its end may never come, only ours.  When we take the road the road takes us.  More and less is what we are and so too the road.  I follow the contour of the ground, which curves around the world, spinning in our sky so we can all see the stars.

Reality builds contentment, fantasy disappointment.

*

Calm, Peaceful, On

Once I center my mind I can type in the dark.

All it takes is me present and willing to flow.

Limber up the learning curve,

press my fingers to the keys,

Let the story tell its tale.

Cease the interjections lest it all go stale.

There is nothing much to know,

its all inside, I just let it go.

Emptying this crowded vault,

I open up to prevent assault.

What to do when it hits the page;

marketing is all the rage,

but for this task I need a light.

To sell myself I must be bright.

The Flying Mind

November 25

THE FLYING MIND

When my brain flies out my ear, destination unknown, I am left mentally bereft.  I feel intellectual convolution and show no affliction other than my inability to fulfill my assignments.  I stare out sure a ring of blue birds circle my head, or maybe stars like any other cartoon patsy.  What to do?  These parodied wingdings ridicule me privately leaving the impression of idiocy with onlookers and supervisors.  My focus and perceptions quaver and I lose my place.  I have to find a way to spot and keep my emotional balance, the same way I stay upright during pirouettes by watching one doorframe or light switch.  I need an unmoving object in a sea of swimming thoughts.  I still need to make the mental turns but this should be much easier if I stop landing on my face.

Work with yourself.

*

John Grisham

My time hovering low over the ocean

has filled me until I am ready to drop.

The weight of what is inside me bears down.

I know with the slightest cooperation

I will become a rainmaker.

I am mostly fine with this.

I know from whence the rain was derived

and I can let it fall in peace.

What I don’t know how to handle

is the acknowledgement.

The difference between what I know

and what you might think is vast

and if I try to dissuade you

I sound disingenuous or fraudulent.

I have to get my head around the part I play

and accept the roses when they come.

I don’t understand how this looks from offstage

or what it means to those who watch.

I hope they will enjoy the work

but never mistake me for the playwright.

Like Peace

November 24

LIKE PEACE

Peace, like an elephant on my chest; I can’t breathe but at least we are not fighting.  The rigid air hangs like sheets on the line, stiff but dry.  Plastered smiles and short salutations get us through until bedtime, but what we can hold in standing up pours out lying down.  Tender feelings are compressed and come out only as water.  Anger bubbles and brews.  Disappointment lives down deep and sours the milk of love.  There are things worse than cross words.  Moldering, festering, frozen words pound spikes in a relationship fraught with apprehension.  The truth is I would let these pent-up things out, but I don’t trust you and I don’t trust me.

See through time.

*

How I’ve come upon the World.

My first exposure to Bogart

was as the man who was after Bugs Bunny,

and Lauren Bacall was only referred to as Baby.

I only ever heard Kaw Liga because

Stephen King referenced it too often

and I had to go have a listen.

I come through the back door on so much of the world

and it has served me rather well.

Yes, I often feel ignorant,

but at least the knowledge never sees me coming

and I get the drop on it.

There is a quality to not having been spoon-fed,

that keeps me sharp and allows for depth.

The universe sends me clues and I go investigate.

It cuts down on the agendaed learning of the social norms

and cuts me a wide swath beyond the common path.

There are times when conformity is key;

then again it’s a sweet thing to have a choice.

Calm, Peaceful, On

December 18

Calm, Peaceful, On

Once I center my mind I can type in the dark. All it takes is me present and willing to flow. Limber up the learning curve, press my fingers to the keys, let the story tell its tale. Cease the interjections lest it all go stale. There is nothing much to know, it’s all inside, I just let it go. Emptying this crowded vault, I open up to prevent assault. What to do when it hits the page; marketing is all the rage, but for this task I need a light. To sell myself I must be bright.

Paste pictures on your mental partitions

*

FAILED SOUP AND DISTRUST OF BURGUNDY

What keeps me coming back to meetings and step work
Is an abiding mistrust of booze.
Despite promises and advertisement, hope and folklore
I couldn’t rely on drinking to take me where I wanted to go.
And surely couldn’t depend on it to keep me there.

The struggle is great; the attempt to cling to salvation
Though decanter is mighty but in the end
This joining of my chemistry to another failed miserably.

No matter how I held my mouth
Held my head, held my liquor
Satisfaction escaped without me and I was left here
In the soup of my disillusion and disappointment.

I may not always succeed in my recovery
But I can draw dividends on every deposit
And use this to build a path to my desires.

Picture Window

November 11

Picture Window

When G-d sticks His face in my window it brightens my day. What that shining face looks like in other windows I do not know, but I try to memorize the eyes, the brow, the winning smile before my time is up and the wind shifts. The flash of a friendly face lights up the house, my yard, the corners of my soul. I imbibe the rich glow before it moves on, letting my core charge with incandescence, warming my mettle. I am long and longing for this happy countenance and only when the blocks tumble in my mind do I realize that it is two- way glass in that window and stick my face in it and offer it to G-d.

Today treat oddity as a pearl not a pebble

*

LIKE PEACE

Peace like an elephant on my chest
I can’t breathe but at least we are not fighting.
The rigid air hangs like sheets on the line
Stiff but dry.

Plastered smiles and short salutations
Get us through until bedtime.
But what can hold in standing up
Pours out lying down.

Tender feelings are compressed
And come out only as water
Anger bubbles and brews.

Disappointment lives down deep
And sours the milk of love
There are things worse than cross words.

Moldering, festering, frozen words
Pound spikes in a relationship
Fraught with apprehension.

The truth is I would let these pent up things out
But I don’t trust you and I don’t trust me.

Night Clothes and Bed Clothes

July 9

Night Clothes and Bed Clothes

Is there any indulgence quite like that of clean sleepwear warm from the laundry? Pulling on jammies over squeaky clean skin and the little shutter that goes with tired hedonism is a pleasure without formed words, left for grateful sounds and little moans. Hard work creates more than stability, more than cash flow and more than mere exhaustion, hard work changes my mind about delight and allows me to see it in the most obvious, most subtle of places. My bed has become haven, hospital, refuge and I am tucked up in my nest and safely out of my mind.

Tidy around your messy emotions

*

THE WATER YOU DRINK

Anyone who has to be drug to water

Doesn’t deserve a drink. said my sponsor

What about raising the bottom? I question.

I’m not talking about that

I am discussing people you try to convince into recovery

The folks you try to accommodate

.

The ones you attempt to bend reality for

These are the type who will piss in your well

Let me be clear--------

I am not concerned with individuals who piss in the pool

Which is rude and disgusting

But basically not life threatening

.

When your well is defiled

When the place you draw your drinking water from

Is used as a chamber pot--- your life is at risk.

Don’t ever pull your pants down

Over someone’s fresh water

Don’t let anyone squat with their bare ass over your sobriety

Peace Time

September 23

Peace Time

I have been to the wars and through the wars and now sit on the stoop and wonder; will I learn to live here in the world of everyday after having had to spend so much time running for cover. Each time I return to what I believe is my home I sit and rock trying to pour my soul back inside from my hipflask where it was held for safekeeping. I try not to spill a drop for it is worse than shed blood and harder to rebuild. My soul has grown pale from confinement and lack of sun, but it still exists and for that I pat my back and suck on my Lifesaver; I could have done worse, was unable to do better. I console myself with the knowledge I never started the conflict just learned to survive it.

Substitute action for apathy

*

REMEMBERING

Remembering is the oxygen my brain pumps to my soul.

Remembering gives me mobility and traction.

Everything in my life that is positive depends on my remembering.

It keeps apathy at bay

And complacency locked in some far off cupboard.

Remembering gives today the misty sweetness I have grown to love.

I can live to my potential and enjoy the process.

Watch misery move away.

I can dream the future every night

Because I remember who I am and what I am capable of.

Never can I be haunted.

Memory keeps me from reactionary visitation.

Though some fear the past

I know holding it in a close embrace

Allows me to dance to the rhythm of truth.

Memorial Day

May 27

MEMORIAL DAY


Veteran of the addiction wars, I have scars but few medals. I don’t need a purple heart, mine is black and blue. I don’t keep trophies either, no empty bottles or old syringes. Hostages, I have released them, too. I found often they held me from what my life could be. I wear my defects and wave my flag. I am slowly learning to live in peacetime. The big battles have been won; it is up to me to stop replaying the scenes of engagement. Armistice is a beautiful thing; too bad there is no better way to get to it.


Write the dedication page for your life.