A great woman walks my street everyday. She carries a tall walking stick with a loop for her hand. Each morning I see her low crown of hair and the half-smile, her friendly wave when I catch her eye. Each morning when I see her I see the secret play across her face, humility. This is the secret she cannot share. I know she would sing it from the mountaintops if it would help, but humility is not a secret you can tell; it’s a secret you have to live with. As I slowly learn this precious thing I see it shine in others. Recognition of the persons with inborn dignity and a keen understanding of their personal value lights inside me. When I see this fine woman walking with purpose, I appreciate myself better and am so very grateful for those who keep humility alive by living it.
Know your friends well and your books better.
I know just how hard it is to pick up the right tools.
It’s like I know I have a hammer in the drawer,
in fact I have two, so, why oh, why do I feel compelled
to hit things with the heel of my shoe?
Trust and believe it is ineffective at best;
additionally it is embarrassing.
I wish I could say I have done this a handful of times,
unfortunately, I have done it over and over,
it’s hell on my shoes and worse on my morale.
Using what is at hand or foot may seem practical,
but it is not prudent.
Walking myself through the step by step process;
reading and following directions is easier
but only when I disengage the lie that says it’s harder.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault