Marmalade, bitter and sweet, spread across my spiritual toast; zest and sticky solution mix and cover the surface. I bite down taking in the start of my day. Past this point anything is possible, fame or disaster, a dreary fog-filled morning or cloudless afternoon. Seeing the passing populous, I alternately advance and retreat from this human wall. Response and responsibility tattletale their way to my reactionary will. The tightrope sways over river of potential; balance is more than a desire, it is a necessity. So I enjoy my breakfast tea and watch the marmalade melt as I dip my bread in my well-steeped brew. The parade will start soon enough; I need this time before I launch into the fray.
Start a fire in your mind.
When I am over sensitive and everything
that everyone does looms large for me,
I am more likely to think
that I am a driving force in the lives of others.
It’s a funny connection in the same way
that when I scratch the dogs tummy her foot paddles;
when I am not getting my needs met
I tend to believe I am in this world
to meet the needs of others.
Often when in this mindset I also delude myself further
to worry that I may be the only person
who can help these other people.
I have been training myself to throw a flag
on any and all plays where I am that important.
I try to bring all action to a stop
and get right sized about who I am
and how important I am and to whom and why.
It’s not that I don’t have value,
I have the same value as everyone else,
but when I shortchange my needs and my feelings,
over responsibility to others mushrooms
and this is not good for anyone; me least of all.
As with most things,
if I find out what is right for me
it tends to be right for those around me,
even if I can’t see that at the time.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault