Channeling

August 31

 

CHANNELING

 

 

It’s a full feeling to be a channel.  Only an empty feeling when it’s blocked at the base of my spine and God can’t go to my head.  The river flows through me and my banks will hold.  Excuses dam me up and leave a dry and lifeless basin, with tributaries taxed for usefulness.  Staying in the groove conveys my Higher Power’s will without need of my furrowed brow.  A hose with no water running is a place for spiders to spin.  If I shut off to service, I am a breeding ground for creeping sadness and shocking misery.  Compliance allows me the view of flowing strength and rushing joy, the greatest of which is living with intent.

 

 

Repeat until you chant.

*

 

 

Shadow of Doubt

 

 

The long dark cast covers my face,

my thoughts…….. my life;

it is the light blocked by my skepticism.

 

To tear down the obstruction

means a profound change of my internal architecture;

walls will have to be knocked down, windows installed.

 

The poor mouthed structure

takes better to the steamroller than I wish it would.

I fear the loss of my hideout,

panic at the thought of a life in the sun.

 

Skepticism builds a paper world;

opaque, weak yet frightening to tear apart.

 

 

 

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

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The Call

August 30

 

THE CALL

 

Within the sound of your voice

I sing

In the beat of your heart

I heal

I feel in your touch

And dance when your toe starts to tap

I see myself in your beauty

I warm inside your embrace

Your thoughts are my inspiration

Your lungs breathe me in and blow me out

I soar in your flight

And dream in your waking

I ring in your ears

Fall with your tears

I’m lost in you

Found in you

Travel and lounge in you

I share all your rantings

And hide in your secrets

You hear and caress me

My darling

You know who I am

 

 

Return to an old joy for a visit.

*

 

 

 

Rex

 

Hungry dogs who love me anyway,

dance around waiting to be fed.

If they didn’t love they

would take bloody bites and I don’t forget it.

These puppies have teeth,

like cigarettes I want to smoke but don’t.

And meanwhile back on the farm

I seek to quiet the whines and barking

of the unfed, malnourished familiarity

which writhes at my ankles and jumps at my knees.

 

I can no longer pat my disquiet on the head

and expect it to stay or heal.

I must hunt down the beast which bothers me

and feed the meat of it to the pups.

 

I must not leave the lopers to quarry my burden

if I want to remain master

and leave them to be pet.

 

 

 

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

Posted in 12 step recovery, acceptance, Alcoholics Anonymous, dogs, genius, Hope, Humor, pets, Poetry, Wisdom | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Satisfaction

August 29

 

SATISFACTION

 

 

 

Satisfaction is like a marble in my pocket.  Formed when correctness was still red hot and my sponsor rolled my mind until I was whole.  I sigh and square my shoulders.  I know I am up to any task.  I am skilled with my tools and know well the talents of my intimates and helpmates.  I am not invincible but I am capable.  I value who and what I am today.  I sleep the sleep of a person not a hostage or a captor.  I am me.  I have a marble in my pocket and it reminds me of the world.  I have a world within me; knowing how to live with that is a great satisfaction.

 

 

Listen clearly to angry words but don’t repeat them.

 

*

Even at the Bottom

 

 

Why is it that I feel God leads me to the path,

but expects me to travel it alone?

In all honesty it feels more like God leads me

to the stairs and I fall down them on my own.

 

I lay in a heap at the bottom

filled with self-reproach for the landing.

I forget that a power which draws me forward

can also endure.

 

I did not come here alone,

I will not leave here alone;

I am never alone,

even at the bottom of the stairs.

 

 

 

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

Posted in 12 step recovery, Affirmation, Alcoholics Anonymous, Hope, Humor, Poetry, Satisfaction, Sponsorship, Wisdom | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Public Privacy

August 28

 

PUBLIC PRIVACY

 

 

 

My public privacy is protected by my smile not my scowl.  Maintaining boundaries as I travel the common areas of life is more readily accomplished by a pleasant demeanor than a dark stare.  I have used negative attitude and found myself outside of my own protection.  The buoyancy of my manner keeps surface tension a natural and acceptable reality.  Hooded behavior drags every interaction into suspicion.  When I make part of my business to put others at ease, it is easier for me to preserve my business as my own.

 

 

Put clothes on ambition.

*

 

 

The Slick Nature of Grace

 

 

 

The higher I climb the more severe the fall;

the sweeter my life the more brittle my blood sugar.

I must be more careful as I get better.

 

I thought being sober would make my life free from care,

but I think it is a freedom from fretting

that might be more accurate.

 

I must still climb and take in all the sweetness

which comes my way,

but always I must vigilantly keep my balance.

Hold on tighter; eat more protein.

 

Grace is a glorious thing

and I am the consecrated recipient

who knows the slickness of the slopes

and the cunning of the glucose.

 

Daring to be sober is an athletic endeavor

I must tighten my cleats

and sharpen my sweet tooth.

 

 

 

 

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

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The Dreamer

August 27

 

THE DREAMER

 

 

“What about the dreamer?”

“What about her?” responds my sponsor.  “You ask me about her like I was the one who pushed her off the cliff.”

“Are you saying I pushed her?” I questioned my sponsor.

“Yes, that is just what I am saying. Do you need me to sing it?  You wanted the dreamer to fly off to safety and happiness and wanted her to take you with her.  In an attempt to grab hold of her ankles and propel her to heaven you threw her from the precipice. Now she is broken and bleeding far from your sight.  Your dreamer is damaged and you ask me what about her.  Do you want to know what you did and how to remedy it or were you looking to duck responsibly?”

“Quack.”

 

 

Run before you fly.

*

 

 

 

Defining the Indefinable

 

What is Alcoholism?

What is a Hurricane?

What is a Cataclysm?

 

I know I look for the root cause,

look to predict the outcome,

look to prevention and preservation.

 

This thing which comes pouring

from the four winds

to land in my yard

and knock on my screen door.

 

What it shows me today,

the furious winds,

the slanting rain,

may not be how it presents tomorrow,

 

I must keep in mind it is all the same storm

and must be regarded with the same respect

and treated with the same care and diligence.

 

Whether it’s the thirst or the thinking,

a jail cell or my mental mouse trap,

alcoholism is an umbrella term for the tsunami,

which came to collect me,

but no definition will convey the devastation it has wrought.

 

 

 

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

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Natural Law

August 26

 

NATURAL LAW

 

 

 

Gravity is always in effect, but invoke the laws of lift and you can make a stone fly.  I have no gills but strap on a tank and rebreather; I can share space with sharks.  Given enough willingness and step work I can walk through the world sober though every cell of my body is alcoholic.  The laws of nature are fluid.  When I flow with them I can keep my goals.  Instant gratification is often my stumbling block.  Gaining access to my far-flung desires is not impossible but it is also not immediate.

 

 

Make little plans with salt and big plans with sugar.

*

 

 

Make Use of Brown Soap

 

 

 

When I have death in my pocket

it makes it easy to cross the street without a glance.

A little arsenic in my in my veins

allows me to swallow the rest with no thought beyond want.

 

Twist the screws tight enough in my brain

and no other pressure seems problematic.

All of the trouble in the world can beat a path to my door

when I carry within me the seeds of destruction.

 

I have to check myself for stow-away devastation.

Ruin begins in tiny droplets but will wash me down the drain

if not wiped immediately from my skin.

 

Vigilant acknowledgement of the power of small burdens

protects me from the mind blown ravages of the ensuing cyclone.

Microbes cause mayhem,

so I must watch where I touch and wash before I eat.

 

 

 

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

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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

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