THE WATER YOU DRINK
“Anyone who has to be dragged to water doesn’t deserve a drink,” said my sponsor.
“What about raising the bottom?” I questioned.
“I’m not talking about that. I am discussing people you try to convince into recovery. The folks you try to accommodate. The ones you attempt to bend reality for. These are the type who will piss in your well. Let me be clear, I am not concerned with the individuals who piss in the pool, which is rude and disgusting but basically not life threatening. When your well is defiled, when the place you draw your drinking water from is used as a chamber pot, your life is at risk. Don’t ever pull your pants down over someone’s fresh water. Don’t let anyone squat with their bare ass over your sobriety.”
Play in your play clothes.
Rings of Color against Butterflies
Resistance I can accomplish directly;
impedance requires magnetism from an alternating world.
I can drag my heels and live life in a sandpaper shack
making everything a chore,
What it takes to throw furniture in the path of progress,
slamming doors and turning off the lights
that is more than I can do on my own.
This takes the cooperation of my disease and me,
the monkey-hoop, which is effort and clever repartee.
Look how well we do it, too.
Distracting possibilities, staving off humanity and the humane,
may not sound like much, but it takes up our whole day;
Goodness is such a persistent little grub.
It takes a concerted effort to prevent it from chrysalis
and failing that, still more determination to make sure it doesn’t fly.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault