20 CART PILEUP
“What’s the problem here?” asks my sponsor, as she approaches my apparent impasse.
“Well, I’ve been trying to get these carts lined up. What do you think of my progress?”
“How many carts do you have here?”
“A few, quite a few. Why?”
“And how many horses?” She asks.
“Just the one. The same as everyone else,” I answer.
“And where is this poor animal?”
“Back there, behind the carts.”
“Okay. We have a two-fold problem here. First, one horse can handle only one cart. So, pick one. Second, that sad creature needs to be in his proper position to do any good at all. You had best figure out a way to get him in front or you will remain stuck even after you whittle down your burden.”
I was stunned. She went to her cart, climbed to the seat and took up the reins.
“How long did it take you to get yours like that?” I asked.
“Honey, it takes every day. Don’t kid yourself. I wake up every morning with the same train wreck you’re standing in now. Learn to sort faster and you’ll have the rest of today. You can start over with the rest of us tomorrow.”
Sip the bitter, drink the sweet.
I am clever, I am so clever,
everyone knows it and I know it, too.
So, why do I get slam stuck
on the very simple things
required to keep my life running smoothly?
I know what needs to be done,
yet have no clue as to how to accomplish
these threads of minutia.
I stall; panic, plod, pout.
When I do force myself to do it
I end up creating either a new pile
of impossible incidentals
or some anticlimactic end,
but secret solutions are as of yet undiscovered.
The whip, the lash and the club avail nothing
though sweet enticements do no better.
I pray, “Dear God please help me!”
but this has no point, I don’t want the help,
I am afraid of the help.
I am afraid of the change
and of course who wouldn’t be?
Beyond here lay someone I don’t know,
someone I only fear,
beyond here lay the fearless me
and I am clever enough to be afraid of her.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault