The first time I arrive at the beach the tide is a shock to me. I had no way to anticipate it. As the days pass I calm, realizing there is a rhythm and that the sea won’t escape the shore. Over time I begin to anticipate the movement and then rely on it. I learn to live with the in and out nature of the water lapping the lip of sand; what it brings and what it takes away. I am human. I adapt. I survive. How do I make the jump to blessing the moon? How do I touch the divine?
Forgive your common errors, make note of the uncommon
Having limits, in a seemingly limitless universe,
makes me feel horribly inadequate.
I am a sad little creature
in the face of overwhelming tasks.
Pressure and unwarranted ego
compress my ability and eager disposition.
I am forced to see there are choices
outside my qualifications and willingness.
Going on in the face of crushing requirements
extrudes my life force into a plateful of capellini
Lying exposed with no gravy to keep me warm
it is hard to realize in this world of wonder and delight
a plate of naked spaghetti can’t do it all.
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault