When power arrives, it comes complete with blindfold, mask and lullaby. I am blinded to what effect I have. Others cannot see me, only the unchanging masquerade covering my face. All my fears and apprehensions are soothed by the melody singing in my ear. I am possessed. The hard thump of the bottom reaching up to get me is my sole hope of release. I can’t reason my way back from a trip with power; the isolation is too far-reaching, my senses numbed, my thinking biased. Salvation as a cold smack is the jolt required. Fire takes fire; power takes the same.
Draw your own lines then color out of them.
Black & Dedication
The brand of equipment endorsed by my Higher Power
is built so that my hand is clasped inside
lest I feel alone or unaided.
A closed mouth and an open mind work very well
when I can manage either of them
and Step 10 works when I can’t.
I am usually the problem in my life
but I am always the solution.
Others may change and contribute;
I am the one and only one, responsible for my happiness.
Dropping blame from my vocabulary and adding responsibility,
learning to differentiate between what is mine and what is yours;
these tools are keys and they open worlds of possibility to me.
Also they shut out the demons of wrong thinking,
wrong acting and desperation, which used to plague me.
There are still greater tools I yearn for
but like everything I must be patient
and build my muscles to handle the heavier machinery.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault