Voluntary Mute

March 10

VOLUNTARY MUTE

I have learned I don’t have to answer just because someone asks.  I have learned to change subjects.  I have learned it is better to say nothing.  Repeating the phrase, ‘it’s just my opinion,’ followed with, ‘I could be wrong,’ has proven insufficient.  Somehow things frequently turn out worse than I expected but, as of yet, none have turned out better; this upsets.  People become angry when I am correct; they are less angry when I’m silent.  I tell the truth and trouble follows.  I didn’t get sober to lie.  So, I keep my mouth shut.  There is no reason to distress folks, and reality has a way of doing that.  Silence is my new defense.  I hide inside of it and find my new freedom.  Unless it concerns my sponsor, my sponsee, or my cherished friend, battening down the hatches saves me from a tempest and spares others their outbursts.

Persuade yourself to breathe.

*

Conception 2

My active voice is the elixir of fire

my addiction would have me snuff

in order to keep us hidden from each other,

me hidden from you, you hidden from me

and no one noticing you or I pouring the drinks.

Minus my active voice

I slip easily into unconsciousness,

my effectiveness doused.

My active voice is the light in my room

the candle in my window,

the glow within me,

which illuminates my days as well as my nights.

Moving ever forward the gyroscopic precision

of this voice never fails me

if I keep my “listening ears” turned on and tuned in.

My active voice is and will always be

the live wire connection of my Higher Power

uniting with me through people, places and things.

My effective conscience

is everything that results from this bond.

I run at an unfathomable rate of efficiency

when my active voice is on,

my feet fail to touch the ground as I fly to right action,

The nature of my effective conscience

is just that, nature,

as natural as if I were not carrying a fatal malady,

but instead possessed the secret to serenity,

which in fact I do: sobriety.

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

Conception 2

March 11

Conception 2

My active voice is the elixir of fire my addiction would have me snuff in order to keep us hidden from each other, me hidden from you, you hidden from me and no one noticing you or I pouring the drinks.  Minus my active voice I slip easily into unconsciousness, my effectiveness doused.  My active voice is the light in my room the candle in my window, the glow within me, which illuminates my days as well as my nights.  Moving ever forward the gyroscopic precision of this voice never fails me if I keep my “listening ears” turned on and tuned in.  My active voice is and will always be the live wire connection of my Higher Power uniting with me through people, places and things.  My effective conscience is everything that results from this bond.  I run at an unfathomable rate of efficiency when my active voice is on, my feet fail to touch the ground as I fly to right action, the nature of my effective conscience is just that, nature, as natural as if I were not carrying a fatal malady, but instead possessed the secret to serenity, which in fact I do: sobriety. 

Try not to confuse available with empty

*

SPIRITUALITY

The bedpan of spirituality
Was shoved under my ass
Early in sobriety

It kept me from increasing the mess
With which I surround myself.
The cold smack of enamel got my attention.

The old timers showed me there is a place for my shit
It was not any of the places
I had been using.

My side, your side, all sides were strewn with my waste
Fragments, tatters and fearful reminders
Were all there for me to clean up.

Amends as the shovel
And willingness as its handle
Is what I use to clear my past.

Sweat is refreshing when progress is being made
I've made inroads, paths of travel help me more easily
From the past to the present without regret.

True Voice

December 23

TRUE VOICE

Some tears pour from my eyes and others from my heart.  What once was a head-game and theory is now heartfelt and real.  I have grown in my compassion, leaving qualification on the curb.  Letters and notice mean so little in the full-out scheme of all the world; like fashion, what is true today, stood on and dependable, is next years joke and off-hand reference.  The thump of the muscle deep within me is a compass I can trust.  The daily tide of splash and rush can spring water to my face, but what rouses my spirit is much more.  I needn’t worry for its receding or discount that it is faithful; it abides with me still and will keep me if I let it.  Some sounds ring from my voice; others resonate from within, these are the ones that last.

Aim is as important as a strong arm.

*

Entrée Entrée

I am not one to order an appetizer,

I prefer the main meal.

Even if I carry the majority of the entrée home

I like to have it all there before me.

Knowing there is enough, might I want it,

means peace of mind

and I can relax and eat what I wish.

That’s how much I fear.

Fear opening my mouth to ask for more.

Fear not anticipating my actual appetite.

Fear of having nothing to show for my evening out.

What could it all be like

had I felt free of rules and public policy

that must be carried out in private?

I might never know,

but what I do know is

that I need to overcome this.

Not because of starving children near or far,

not to eliminate the science experiments

of mold growth and wilted lettuce in my frig,

But in order that I have a chance to have my desert

and eat it too

and leave the rest unordered.

Voluntary Mute

March 10

VOLUNTARY MUTE

I have learned I don’t have to answer just because someone asks. I have learned to change subjects. I have learned it is better to say nothing. Repeating the phrase, ‘it’s just my opinion,’ followed with, ‘I could be wrong,’ has proven insufficient. Somehow things frequently turn out worse than I expected but, as of yet, none have turned out better; this upsets. People become angry when I am correct; they are less angry when I’m silent. I tell the truth and trouble follows. I didn’t get sober to lie. So, I keep my mouth shut. There is no reason to distress folks, and reality has a way of doing that. Silence is my new defense. I hide inside of it and find my new freedom. Unless it concerns my sponsor, my sponsee, or my cherished friend, battening down the hatches saves me from a tempest and spares others their outbursts.

Persuade yourself to breathe.

*

Conception 2

My active voice is the elixir of fire

my addiction would have me snuff

in order to keep us hidden from each other,

me hidden from you, you hidden from me

and no one noticing you or I pouring the drinks.

Minus my active voice

I slip easily into unconsciousness,

my effectiveness doused.

My active voice is the light in my room

the candle in my window,

the glow within me,

which illuminates my days as well as my nights.

Moving ever forward the gyroscopic precision

of this voice never fails me

if I keep my “listening ears” turned on and tuned in.

My active voice is and will always be

the live wire connection of my Higher Power

uniting with me through people, places and things.

My effective conscience

is everything that results from this bond.

I run at an unfathomable rate of efficiency

when my active voice is on,

my feet fail to touch the ground as I fly to right action,

The nature of my effective conscience

is just that, nature,

as natural as if I were not carrying a fatal malady,

but instead possessed the secret to serenity,

which in fact I do: sobriety.