Spectacles are for specks; tiny things that must be watched. Commotion is nothing but a congregation of minutia with an audience. How many small things do I strain my eyes to see; then seek help to pursue further? Some of these are put on display fishing for voyeurs. Others are secreted away only to be ferreted out through magnification. Whether curiosity or contempt drives me to these pinpoints I must search my motives before I scan the plain. For truly if I am not careful I, myself will end up either speck or spectacle.
Let old wood and old women inhabit the shoreline of your mind.
Maps have existed longer than I have
By the time of my birth there was aerial photography
Which had made pinpoint accuracy the norm.
I can be tracked by satellite on my daily commute
I can get a trip tic
And travel to the far reaches of this continent
“So what is your problem?” Asks my sponsor
There is no map for where we’ve been going
There are only the twelve steps, but after that-
It is all uncharted territory except of course-
For my families warnings about dragons
‘Those critters stay to home mostly.” She says
“You have bigger things to worry about.”
So where’s the map
I need to know where to go.
No Map, we go through this together
The pitfalls are similar, sex and money
There are a few others
What each of us finds on this journey is uncharted
Plus if you spend your time looking down
You will miss the view.
We prop each other up as we step off into the unknown
And reel each other back
If we start falling off the beam.
How do I know if I’m doing it right
“Are you still sober?”
Yes, but I’m unsure.
Lots of people are sober
Right up until the time they’re drunk
“So true, it’s all about motive.”
It’s difficult to chart a heart
“Do you have willingness?”
Yes, you know I do.
I have found that is the vehicle
To everywhere, So.,
Learn to enjoy the ride.
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault