Never juggle knives and butter at the same time or you will just spread your problems around. Passing on the knives is the first best idea, leaving the butter in the dish is the second. I have gotten many funny schemes into my brain; gotten them in with ease, it is the getting them out of my brain I struggle with. Crowbars and coercion have been my favored tools; ineffective though they may be, I am persistent, while wishing to be dexterous. It took me years to realize the problem with juggling is that it begins with me throwing things and ends with disaster if I can’t catch it all. What slips through my fingers through daily living is hard enough what I throw into the fray for showmanship is, too much. I needn’t be the fool flinging my pins when my goal is to stay on them.
Learn a song in case of karaoke kidnapping
OLD BOOKKEEPING, NEW PAINTING
What will become of the fine lines
I use to divide good news from bad?
How will I handle life with no screen to keep
the silt from shifting across my personal landscape.
A delicate crosshatch had kept little checks in little boxes
Now the checks are bouncing randomly,
No pattern or restraint.
My old bookkeeping has come to an abrupt end
Leaving many questions and much uncertainty.
I lift the green visor from my brow,
Looking for answers from the periphery.
Taking the long view
I put down my pencil and pick up my paints.
Sling the easel over my shoulder
And walk away from meticulous survival.
The fine lines I have now are in my brush strokes
And even bad news is somehow good.
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault