Angle of Return

March16

ANGLE OF RETURN

As in a hall of mirrors, it is sometimes hard to tell if I am moving forward in my recovery.  Likewise, as promises are fulfilled, their obtuse arrival is a quandary.  The juxtaposition of acute homecoming of former faculties is also startling.  How the light finds and reflects itself from sober face to sober face, from open heart to open mind, is the spectral of hope to me.  My soul seeks me day after day though I left it so far behind.  It brings to me the person of God’s intent and my new acquaintance.  Patience, never my virtue, finds me stacked with packages delivered in piles so high I can’t keep up with opening them.  Never in my life have I known less about my future or felt more assured.

Earn your own respect.

*

Suit up, Show up

I stand naked, paralyzed,

unable to reach my intended destination

or any destination at all.

Goose flesh is no real motivation

and I am reluctant to use the prod

having only produced resistance

and reversals with past applications of this weapon.

Entreatment might work

if only I could find the right one;

then again anything might work if it were a fit.

Covering my all-together is an action;

taken judiciously it sometimes is all the arrival I can manage,

taken disingenuously it precludes the chance

for any further forward motion

and may create setback or retreat.

I should not attempt to hide fear with wardrobe

though I can try to warm it.

Façade building is best done with a bottle in tow

reality is best faced with a sponsor by my side.

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

2 Chairs

July 29

2 CHAIRS



Math is the language that moves closest to the speed of my brain. The language of recovery slows my thinking so I am more than numbers and clicks. I need not race my mind in an effort to win. I am my prize; the victory is mine if I can embrace who I am. I can use numbers to figure whether I am more or less, but owning who I am must be given to the talk of the soul and heart. My nashamah is not an astral projection to be theorized but the seat of my emotions. The only way to discover myself is through deep and loving conversation, so I had best pull up two chairs.


Play colors like music.