Saurian or Dalliance

January 20

Saurian or Dalliance

I love to be mystical, but the only dragon in my life is when I drag on and on.  Procrastination is the winged beast in my world.  I armor plate the thing, shiny and gleaming, my loitering delay is mightily impressive and you might think it would take flight from the way it postures but departure has been adjourned in favor of misgiving and postponement.  I wander through the forest attempting to appear brave and feeling it occasionally while my tale grows longer.  I need the fierce face and sharp claws; I can beat the mythology if I will just continue to take action.

Never confuse signposts for guideposts.

*

THE FROG

Stretched in the water
Still
The frog hangs.

The pond is barely a tea cup
Sufficient for communion
Of God and frog.

I watch the frog
Unblinking
Savoring respiration.

In a pond in Maine, I bore the posture
Center-stage
A quarter mile of water all around.

I hold my head above the surface
And feel I am in the eye of Gods creation
Face to face with benevolence.

Peace spars with uneasy smallness
I am a tiny speck, floating in the soup.
I am one organism in a sea teaming with life.

I am a part of
Not protected
But equal to the rest.

Can I bare this reality
The struggle of living
On a web?

Can I live a humble life
Knowing
I am favored no more then the rest?

Can I set aside my need
For preferential treatment
A God given Band-Aid for my multitude of hurt?

"If you can't, you will drink." Says my sponsor
"If I have to live this way I will cry." I respond.
"That is your God given right."

Vlog:  http://youtu.be/n7AtS2CzGX4

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

Autumn

August 25

AUTUMN

The falling leaves slap my hand as I ride the road at fifty miles per, my arm dangling

The trees are shedding their masquerade

Exposed they stand stark, stripped

Naked to the soul

The growth of this year's yearning waves on the fringe

I can follow this lead

Remove pretense not clothing

Stand before all who have an interest in seeing me

Unashamed of my wants

And the things I reach for

I can cast off the uniform of evolution

And enjoy a long winter of truth

Do what you do.

*

Echidna’s Child

The difference between perplexed paranoia

and procrastination is sometimes a subtle distinction.

The confusion which swirls,

confounding me along my trudge,

gets the name of procrastinator.

I am not at all sure I should continue to call it by that name.

I believe that quite possibly I am an internal chimera,

a blend of creatures, both mythic and fantastic,

striving to live as one functioning specter,

in a world too hard for a disparate visage as myself.

When I am most myself,

when the goal is pure and true, I work with a will.

When I am making deadly compromise

and risking my soul for social ease or the approval of the keepers,

my dragon heart rebels and I am struggling

against the fire in my stomach and fear screaming in my head.

I don’t know how to eliminate the conflict,

but for now I will attempt to stop calling myself names.

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

Utility of Emotion

July 5

UTILITY OF EMOTION

I plug into the utility of my emotions.  These utilities aid my life as all utilities do.  The duel prong of anger serves to light me up and gives me strength to set good boundaries.  The four-line clip cord of pain allows me to keep in touch with my Higher Power, my friends, and my fellows.  I have nothing to share if I can’t stay real about my pain.  Fear is hard to contain and is carefully piped.  Explosions of fear can start so easily it’s a good thing its foul odor can be smelled in the air.  The coaxial cable of joy screws neatly into the back of my mind and gives me endless delight, color and sound; these are the privileges of sobriety.  Emotions are plainly utilitarian but they help me survive and make living into a life.

Touch all the letters in your name.

*

The Biggest Chicken

I love to be mystical,

but the only dragon in my life

is when I let things drag on and on.

Procrastination is the winged beast in my world

and when she is slain the sun comes out

and I can count my blessings and plan for my possibilities.

The deep ditch left by depression

is where the lizard lays; siphoning my time

and sucking clean the bones of my wasted talents.

I have lunged and poked, stabbed her with my steel

and blown holes in her with my revolver,

but not until I sever the tendon with which she holds me

in her grasp do I have any real chance to be rid of her claws.

Once free of her I must be forever vigilant

lest her smothering song lure me back to that evil nest

where I feel as helpless as her egg.

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 Frog

January 21

THE FROG

Stretched in the water, still, the frog hangs.  The pond is barely a teacup, sufficient for the communion of God and frog.  I watch the frog, unblinking , savoring respiration.  In a pond in Maine, I bore this posture, center stage.  A quarter mile of water all around, I hold my head above the surface and feel I am in the eye of God’s creation, face to face with benevolence.  Peace spars with uneasy smallness.  I am a tiny speck, floating in the soup; I am one organism in a sea teaming with life; I am a part of, not privileged but equal to the rest.  Can I bear this reality, the struggle of living on a web?  Can I live a humble life, knowing I am favored no more than the rest?  Can I set aside my need for preferential treatment, a God-given Band-Aid for my multitude of hurt?

“If you can’t, you will drink," says my sponsor.

“If I have to live this way, I will cry,” I respond.

“That is your God-given right.”

Take someone else’s Higher Power out for a test drive.

*

Saurian or Dalliance

I love to be mystical

but the only dragon in my life

is when I drag on and on.

Procrastination is the winged beast in my world.

I armor plate the thing, shiny and gleaming,

my loitering delay is mightily impressive.

You might think it would take flight

from the way it postures

but departure has been adjourned

in favor of misgiving and postponement.

I wander through the forest

attempting to appear brave and feeling it occasionally

while my tale grows longer.

I need the fierce face and sharp claws

I can beat the mythology

if I will just continue to take action.

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

Echidna's Child

August 25

Echidna’s Child

The difference between perplexed paranoia and procrastination is sometimes a subtle distinction.  The confusion which swirls, confounding me along my trudge, gets the name of procrastinator.  I am not at all sure I should continue to call it by that name.   I believe that quite possibly I am an internal chimera, a blend of creatures, both mythic and fantastic, striving to live as one functioning specter, in a world too hard for a disparate visage as myself.  When I am most myself, when the goal is pure and true, I work with a will.  When I am making deadly compromise and risking my soul for social ease or the approval of the keepers, my dragon heart rebels and I am struggling against the fire in my stomach and fear screaming in my head.  I don’t know how to eliminate the conflict, but for now I will attempt to stop calling myself names.

Beware of hopelessness it has a big imagination

*

WATERLINE

The interface of water and land is compelling.

Soothing but dramatic I’m drawn to this transition.

I stand and watch the lap, lap, lapping of the liquid to the land.

The gift of one place to another calls me.

Change and transition exhilarate my senses.

Whether it is rock or sand, river or sea,

I feel the pull to watch life in response.

Boundaries are beautiful.

Borders allow safety and recreation not just risk.

When I embrace this in life I embrace it in me.

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

Clever Me

March 22

Clever Me

I am clever, I am so clever, everyone knows it and I know it, too.  So, why do I get slam stuck on the very simple things required to keep my life running smoothly?  I know what needs to be done, yet have no clue as to how to accomplish these threads of minutia.  I stall; panic, plod, pout.  When I do force myself to do it I end up creating either a new pile of impossible incidentals or some anticlimactic end, but secret solutions are as of yet undiscovered.  The whip, the lash and the club avail nothing though sweet enticements do no better.  I pray, “Dear G-d please help me!” but this has no point, I don’t want the help, I am afraid of the help, I am afraid of the change and of course who wouldn’t be?   Beyond here lay someone I don’t know, someone I only fear, beyond here lay the fearless me and I am clever enough to be afraid of her.

Fill the potholes in your thinking

*

THE PROCESS

The mountains don't wash away like sandcastles
The amount of persistence required is far greater.
Acorns don't work like sunflowers
Not everything is instant gratification.

Marathons aren't run in seconds
If you don't love the whole adventure, pick a smaller goal
There is no shame in sunflowers or sandcastles or microwave popcorn
As long as you want it and hold it in esteem

Time-consuming, life-consuming journeys
Have a high price in boredom
And are not worth the consumption
If that is not where your heart leads you

You don't have to love washing the pans
To be a good baker
But it helps
Peace is in the process.

Saurian or Dalliance

January 20

Saurian or Dalliance

I love to be mystical, but the only dragon in my life is when I drag on and on.  Procrastination is the winged beast in my world.  I armor plate the thing, shiny and gleaming, my loitering delay is mightily impressive and you might think it would take flight from the way it postures but departure has been adjourned in favor of misgiving and postponement.  I wander through the forest attempting to appear brave and feeling it occasionally while my tale grows longer.  I need the fierce face and sharp claws; I can beat the mythology if I will just continue to take action.

Never confuse signposts for guideposts.

*

THE FROG

Stretched in the water
Still
The frog hangs.

The pond is barely a tea cup
Sufficient for communion
Of God and frog.

I watch the frog
Unblinking
Savoring respiration.

In a pond in Maine, I bore the posture
Center-stage
A quarter mile of water all around.

I hold my head above the surface
And feel I am in the eye of Gods creation
Face to face with benevolence.

Peace spars with uneasy smallness
I am a tiny speck, floating in the soup.
I am one organism in a sea teaming with life.

I am a part of
Not protected
But equal to the rest.

Can I bare this reality
The struggle of living
On a web?

Can I live a humble life
Knowing
I am favored no more then the rest?

Can I set aside my need
For preferential treatment
A God given Band-Aid for my multitude of hurt?

"If you can't, you will drink." Says my sponsor
"If I have to live this way I will cry." I respond.
"That is your God given right."

Utility of Emotion

July 5

UTILITY OF EMOTION

I plug into the utility of my emotions.  These utilities aid my life as all utilities do.  The duel prong of anger serves to light me up and gives me strength to set good boundaries.  The four-line clip cord of pain allows me to keep in touch with my Higher Power, my friends, and my fellows.  I have nothing to share if I can’t stay real about my pain.  Fear is hard to contain and is carefully piped.  Explosions of fear can start so easily it’s a good thing its foul odor can be smelled in the air.  The coaxial cable of joy screws neatly into the back of my mind and gives me endless delight, color and sound; these are the privileges of sobriety.  Emotions are plainly utilitarian but they help me survive and make living into a life.

Touch all the letters in your name.

*

The Biggest Chicken

I love to be mystical,

but the only dragon in my life

is when I let things drag on and on.

Procrastination is the winged beast in my world

and when she is slain the sun comes out

and I can count my blessings and plan for my possibilities.

The deep ditch left by depression

is where the lizard lays; siphoning my time

and sucking clean the bones of my wasted talents.

I have lunged and poked, stabbed her with my steel

and blown holes in her with my revolver,

but not until I sever the tendon with which she holds me

in her grasp do I have any real chance to be rid of her claws.

Once free of her I must be forever vigilant

lest her smothering song lure me back to that evil nest

where I feel as helpless as her egg.

The 24 Hour God

May 10

THE 24 HOUR GOD

Matching a loving God to the horrors of my past has proved impossible for me.  Projecting a connection to an all-powerful God of the ever-foreshortening future seems implausible.  In today, I see a nurturing God.  Not an all purpose God, not a God who serves all.  In my life, there is a God I trust today.  Each morning, when I wake, it is a pleasant surprise to find a God.  Not an expansive God, not a God to fit the continuum, but a nice neat God who fits right in this 24.

Lift your fingers to your scars and feel the gratitude.

*

Box-a-week Tao

I am going through so many changes

surrounding the cleaning out and getting rid of process.

The flat sided panic that I experience

while even attempting the smallest disposal seems impossible.

I would deny it if I didn't have the repetition

of this experiment to prove it as fact.

I have now moved into the part of the illness

where I compulsively clean the things that I have emptied

in order to avoid facing the next step, the next box, the next mess.

This is a two part trap:

Part 1. If cleaning can absorb all the time

I will not be able to do anything else.

Part 2.  If I can't keep it clean enough

then I have an excuse to give up

and not empty the next space.

I am trying to keep moving without being mean to myself.

Because mean is worse than mess.

The Frog

January 21

THE FROG

Stretched in the water, still, the frog hangs. The pond is barely a teacup, sufficient for the communion of God and frog. I watch the frog, unblinking , savoring respiration. In a pond in Maine, I bore this posture, center stage. A quarter mile of water all around, I hold my head above the surface and feel I am in the eye of God’s creation, face to face with benevolence. Peace spars with uneasy smallness. I am a tiny speck, floating in the soup; I am one organism in a sea teaming with life; I am a part of, not privileged but equal to the rest. Can I bear this reality, the struggle of living on a web? Can I live a humble life, knowing I am favored no more than the rest? Can I set aside my need for preferential treatment, a God-given Band-Aid for my multitude of hurt?

“If you can’t, you will drink," says my sponsor.

“If I have to live this way, I will cry,” I respond.

“That is your God-given right.”

Take someone else’s Higher Power out for a test drive.

*

Saurian or Dalliance

I love to be mystical

but the only dragon in my life

is when I drag on and on.

Procrastination is the winged beast in my world.

I armor plate the thing, shiny and gleaming,

my loitering delay is mightily impressive.

You might think it would take flight

from the way it postures

but departure has been adjourned

in favor of misgiving and postponement.

I wander through the forest

attempting to appear brave and feeling it occasionally

while my tale grows longer.

I need the fierce face and sharp claws

I can beat the mythology

if I will just continue to take action.

Echidna's Child

August 25

Echidna’s Child

The difference between perplexed paranoia and procrastination is sometimes a subtle distinction. The confusion which swirls, confounding me along my trudge, gets the name of procrastinator. I am not at all sure I should continue to call it by that name. I believe that quite possibly I am an internal chimera, a blend of creatures, both mythic and fantastic, striving to live as one functioning specter, in a world too hard for a disparate visage as myself. When I am most myself, when the goal is pure and true, I work with a will. When I am making deadly compromise and risking my soul for social ease or the approval of the keepers, my dragon heart rebels and I am struggling against the fire in my stomach and fear screaming in my head. I don’t know how to eliminate the conflict, but for now I will attempt to stop calling myself names.

Beware of hopelessness it has a big imagination

*

WATERLINE

The interface of water and land is compelling.

Soothing but dramatic I’m drawn to this transition.

I stand and watch the lap, lap, lapping of the liquid to the land.

The gift of one place to another calls me.

Change and transition exhilarate my senses.

Whether it is rock or sand, river or sea,

I feel the pull to watch life in response.

Boundaries are beautiful.

Borders allow safety and recreation not just risk.

When I embrace this in life I embrace it in me.

Echidna's Child

August 25

Echidna’s Child

The difference between perplexed paranoia and procrastination is sometimes a subtle distinction. The confusion which swirls, confounding me along my trudge, gets the name of procrastinator. I am not at all sure I should continue to call it by that name. I believe that quite possibly I am an internal chimera, a blend of creatures, both mythic and fantastic, striving to live as one functioning specter, in a world too hard for a disparate visage as myself. When I am most myself, when the goal is pure and true, I work with a will. When I am making deadly compromise and risking my soul for social ease or the approval of the keepers, my dragon heart rebels and I am struggling against the fire in my stomach and fear screaming in my head. I don’t know how to eliminate the conflict, but for now I will attempt to stop calling myself names.

Beware of hopelessness it has a big imagination

*

WATERLINE

The interface of water and land is compelling.

Soothing but dramatic I’m drawn to this transition.

I stand and watch the lap, lap, lapping of the liquid to the land.

The gift of one place to another calls me.

Change and transition exhilarate my senses.

Whether it is rock or sand, river or sea,

I feel the pull to watch life in response.

Boundaries are beautiful.

Borders allow safety and recreation not just risk.

When I embrace this in life I embrace it in me.