One-On-One

God with me,

one-on-one

coming back home

where I've never been before.

God with me,

one-on-one.

Who would have thought

he'd single me out,

talk to me,

be with me

one-on-one.

What peace, what love,

what serenity, joy, glory.

What am I, who am I

that God could love me

one-on-one?

Intolerance

Intolerant, you say? Well, we were frightened. Naturally, we began to act like most everybody does when afraid. After all, isn't fear the true basis of intolerance? Yes, we were intolerant. (The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 140)

Bigotry from fear.
Ku Klux Klan trembling
from inherent suspicion
of quality, of merit, of worth.
Holocaust emblematic
of bravado, of hatred
fearing merit, industriousness,
chutzpah. Bullies, homophobes,
chauvinists, panphobics
quiver in terror that others
may discern insecurity
disguised as dominance.

I know fear, know the instinct
to cringe, to bluster, to pretend
to know, fake confidence.
I know fear and have learned
to act anyway, to examine
the sensation, ask removal
and knowledge of who
I am to be. I will not tolerate
being imprisoned by fear.

Courage and Prudence

Boldness to barge ahead,
wisdom to discern course,
gutsy enough to dare,
sagaciousness sufficient to pause.
Fearless? Unlikely.
Plowing past panic, 
the essence of recovery,
the beginning of heaven.

Sought and Found

I found him! I win!
Clever, how hidden
he was, out in the open
where I thought I’d looked
but like those puzzles
when words are secluded
in random letters in
plain sight but darned near
impossible to spot!
You told me I wasn’t looking
for the God of my childhood
or that of the TV preacher
but could make up my own
and sure enough
when I knew what
I wanted to find
there he was,
waiting for me,
rooting for me.

Don't Let Go of Me

I hurt, I ache,
I'm alone no matter
who may crowd around.
It's been so these long years —
I know you understand,
feel it in your hug,
see it in your eyes.
We stand, hold hands,
ready to leave.
Don't  make me go.
We stand, talk, you share
of power that holds you,
comforts. I feel it,
tremble with the jolt.
The power's hug as warm,
as real. I want to shout
loud, strong, "Don't ever let  go!"

Finding a Larger Mirror

Denigrated by mother,
pummeled by life and love,
full of self-loathing
that converts camera
and mirror to weapons
crushing her spirit,
a question, unexpected,
dredges abuse, looses tears.
Healing begins, courage
to open to probing, to words.
Daring to acknowledge
personal worth, to concede
inner value, she braves
a larger mirror, a tad more
introspection. A possibility
of worthiness.

Reliance, Not Defiance

No man, we saw, could believe in God and defy him, too. Belief meant reliance, not defiance. (Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 31)

Defiance – bold, brash
disobedience. The stuff
of damnation, of bitter,
angry god. But I don't believe
in that kind of God.
Defiant, though, you don't care.
You don't believe, don't
know.

Reliance – faith, trust,
dependence. The stuff
of servitude, of bondage,
of subjection to God's power.
Who wants bondage,
dependence, weakness?
Helplessly craving God
beats other addictions
I've known.

Paying Tribute

I was powerless over food
when I came to these rooms.
No longer, though.
I guess you can say
I bought my way out.
I pay tribute to a power
way greater than I,
and every day I invest
that way, food fails
to pull me away.

Shadows

Gossamer wraiths
of ancient wrongs hover,
sometimes distant,
others riding
my shoulders,
no real weight,
just that of the woes
of the world. They drive
away serenity, rouse self-pity,
entwine my thoughts,
build fear to bonfires.
They shudder, though,
when inventory and a sponsor's
perspective bring out the light
and make them disappear.

Invitation or Obligation?

I need to go to church,
have failed to time after time —
"next week" which becomes
seldom, almost never.
I need to go to church,
it's the right thing to do.
I was raised in church,
have lived in church, forever
until now. The rules say,
"It's Sunday. Go to church."

What if church were not
an obligation? What if the need
was to be with my God,
with his people, with my kind?
What if obligation
became invitation? 

I'm Possible

Nothing is impossible. The word itself says ‘I’m possible!’ ~ Audrey Hepburn

Hopeless, impossible lives
led us to these rooms.
Here we found acceptance,
understanding, friendly faces,
kind eyes. Taking proffered hands,
we inched out of the pit, a handhold,
a solid rock to climb on. Stories
of sordid lives garnering respect,
of miracles among us spurned
taking action, sensible or not,
doing as others, acting as if.
Actions, oh-so-minimal,
spurred courage, weakened fear,
until hopeless had become hope
and impossible, I’m possible.

act as if

I don’t know what I trust in precisely, but it doesn’t matter; I have faith that it works. (Voices of Recovery, Kindle Locations 240-241)

Deist, theist,
baptist, buddhist,
puritan, zen,
zoroastrian.
Catholic, heretic,
pegan, shaman.
hindu, voodoo.
We believe, in fits
and starts,
passionate or
recalcitrant.
Credence comes hard
for some, like trust
for most. All’s well.
Belief is fine —
when it comes.
Meanwhile just know
you’re not god,
and playact
you’re not
our only hope.

Chain Latch on the Door

Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me. (Revelation 3:20 NASB)

"I offer myself to Thee."
Sure, I took the Third Step.
Go ahead, build with me.
Do with me as you want.
Get rid of my bondage
to me, my bondage to food.
I'm here to do your will,
though surely you know
I'm busy, have so many
of your children who rely
on me. I'm already doing
your work. I know
you're using me, showing
my victories over addiction
to others as inspiration.
Just remove the rest
of these difficulties,
and we'll have it made,
you and me. What?
Take off the chain?
Open the door wide?
You'd put me in bondage
to you to set me free?
Surely you jest!

Willpower

Willpower is God asking, "Will you give up your power?" - Josh C.

We gathered, some eagerly,
some going through the motions,
doing the work despite emotions
pulling elsewhere.

We assembled, reading words
familiar, comforting, habitual
sliding over the words, yet hearing
pointed phrases.

We recalled love-deprived cribs,
house-to-house grazing,
angry sons, serial drive-throughs,
one story shared.

We spoke of powerlessness, insanity,
debacles of willing normality.
We lamented teeth-gritted willpower
crashing, shattered again.

We delighted in solutions realized
looking up from deep pits
to a presence always part of us,
who will when we can't.

Laughter

Humor is a prelude to faith and Laughter is the beginning of prayer. (Reinhold Niebuhr)

Don't take yourself
so dog-gone seriously!
Who are you to think you
can change anything,
anybody, even you?
Jesus says you can't
change a hair's color.
Chemicals aside.
The Psalms say God laughs.
People laughed at Jesus.
We can go along with feeling
the laughingstock,
but so naming
others so we won't be.
Or we can find the joy
and laugh with no object,
no derision, just giddyness.
And giddy, giggling, rollicking,
finding God comes more naturally.
Could that be because
God is laughter, joy?

Out of Control

Why am I looking for the middle ground? Because I don’t have control on the other two that are available to me. If accept spiritual help, I’m out of control. If I'm going on to the bitter end blotting out the intolerable condition I'm in, I’m out of control. (Clint H.) 

I’m in control,
hear me roar!
Stand aside and see me,
watch what I can do.
Step back,
I don’t need you.
Can’t you see
it’s a complex whole,
that ceding power causes seams?
It’s not arrogance
if you’re right!
You know I do it well!
I’m in control.

No. I need to know
I’m out of control
when God’s not really
the one who’s in control.

Procrastination

–Procrastination is not laziness. It is fear. ~ Julia Cameron

Fear lurks, a cur disciplined,
aware who's boss, but surly.
It's hard, you know, when years
on years he ruled, controlling me.
Retraining him, drilling me —
in some way we both savor same,
regret reeducation. But plowing through,
sneering at the mangy mutt,
it's worth the pain, the strain,
to growl, "Procrastination! Heel!"
and see him cave.

Frustration

Deadline looms.

"You are not connected

to the Internet."

Crisis. Disaster.

I've a dozen hours

to get it done,

don't have to sleep

but a few of them.

The world's not ending.

Power's all around.

Batteries and towers

not needed. Power's

out there, in here,

everywhere.

I can stay connected

to the universe.

The world's not ending.

Neither Earned Nor To Be Spurned

Free means worthless,
cheap means trash.
I'll pay my way
or go away. Charity
offends, degrades,
scorns me
despite good intent.

Sometimes, though,
I can't carry my own,
must own up to hopeless,
helpless, powerless.
Then the largesse itself
conveys respect,
equality, God's favor
neither earned
nor to be spurned,
the gift of grace. 

Numbered Days

 Teach us to number our days,
that we may gain a heart of wisdom. (Psalm 90:12, NIV)

All I have is today,
and should I falter,
I start again, here, now,
not waiting
for tomorrow,
or Monday,
or the year's first day.
Yet though I can begin
again – and again —
and yet again,
I lose if that's a crutch.
What's lost?
A history of sanity,
a sense of continuity,
a confidence in growth,
a pattern of peace.

Free Time

Time is free, but it's priceless. You can't own it, but you can use it. You can't keep it, but you can spend it. Once you've lost it, you can never get it back. ~ Harvey MacKay

Hours, minutes, seconds – limited,
just so many in a day,
yet free for taking, but act fast.
If you miss, it's gone, never to be reclaimed.
Free time, up for grabs,
nab some handfuls,
yet let it linger, ignored,
only to find it evaporated.
Use time wisely,
important commitments,
moving toward goals,
or holding a child's hand,
watching a cloud evolve,
or centering, internalizing
the joy of having
priceless time free. 

Trivial

In a weak moment he may take your dislike of his high-stepping friends as one of those insanely trivial excuses to drink. (Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 120)

 Heck if I know,
and that's the truth.
It's not the big things
that throw me off,
not the boulders
seemingly blocking
super highways
but pebbles on
footpaths. It's not
high-stepping friends
nor social occasions
where etiquette requires,
not even tragedies...
Nope. It's plowing through
faux pas, forgetting
appointments, unshared
joy. It's not the excuse
but the weak moment,
the head not prepared
for dumb stray thoughts. 

Not Invited

I remember not being invited
because it seemed like my life.
You'd leave as a group as I stayed,
longing to be one of you.
I remember when I learned
nobody invited you, either,
and I was welcome.
You thought I was content,
didn't need you,
didn't want my company,
that you weren't invited
to stay. 

Spherically

You have to live Spherically, in many directions and never loose your childish enthusiasm and then things will come your way. (Under the Tuscan Sun)

How do you live spherically?
I can certainly go around 
getting nowhere. That goes
to the edge of the circle 
of insanity, though,
not beyond boundaries of the sphere.
Spherically is all over the place,
but not cluttered, not hodgepodge.
Broad, comprehensive, sweeping. 
Living spherically is believing
the unfathomable, trusting 
divine providence, expecting
phenomenal. Living spherically
is promises fulfilled
beyond my wildest dreams. 

Life as it Really Is

When life as it really is becomes a fact that I accept as naturally as I breathe, events lose their power… (For Today, page 6)

We see through glass darkly —
murky or naively pink-tinged
pigments impede vision equally.
Paul said, though, maturity happens.
Glass clears. Life as life is?
Don’t do for others because
you feel sorry for them,
don’t expect acclaim unearned,
don’t assume control when God
seems distracted. Accept limitations,
recognize glass ceilings break,
Know power isn’t in what happens
but in the power in charge.

Powerless

I've tried, really tried,

yet to sooth the savage beast

eludes me. Why? Tell me why!

Others can! So why should 

this craving mock me, shame me,

crush my soul? Others stroll

from the beast, a whimpering kitten

in their lives though they've indulged

with the rest of us, partied just as hard. 

Am I so weak, so deficient? 

Where's my will-power? 

I'm sick to death of this addiction,

ready to give up. 

You say there's hope just because

I give up? That I'm sick but it need not be

to death? So tell me. I'm ready to hear you.

Easy Doesn't Do It

Just because its hard doesn’t mean I’ve done anything wrong. ~ David S. 

When I’m naughty,
refusing to follow rules,
then fair’s fair, and easy
feels wrong, feels undeserved,
frightens me.

When I’m nice,
walking the steps
doing the work,
submitting to leadership,
then easy’s easy to take,
for I deserve it.

I don’t get what I deserve.
Thank God, for I deserve
three days in the electric chair.
When I feel easy’s due
and get hard, I feel cheated,
misunderstood. But those times
perhaps the hard is there
to break through to a new good
to knock down barriers.
It doesn’t mean I’ve misunderstood,
that I really haven’t been aligned.
It can mean good is just around the bend.
Or not. It’s not about rewards.
Not about what’s due.
It’s about life, love, being.

Hope Is the Risk

Hope is the risk that must be run. ~ George Bernanos

To run the risk – exposing self
to possibly unpleasantness.
Hope is the risk;
the risk is hope.
Risk, a word sprung
from danger.
So is danger ancestor
to hope? How deep the kinship?
Risk, hope - how deep the kinship! 

Twenty Seconds of Insane Courage

Sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just literally, twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery and I promise you, something great will come of it.  ~ We Bought a Zoo

Insane courage.
Embarrassing bravery.
Twenty seconds.
An old lawyer,
thirty-plus years ago
listening to facts
of a hopeless case,
shaking his head,
saying, "Sometimes
the best way out
is through."
A few months ago
another wise man
gave me advice.
I'm thinking about it.
Driving there's
a lot longer than
twenty seconds.
But the hard part...
yeah. Twenty seconds
would cover it.
But I'm scared.
And that's the point. 

To Save Himself

How he does cherish the thought that man, risen so majestically from a single cell in the primordial ooze, is the spearhead of evolution and therefore the only god that his universe knows! Must he renounce all this to save himself? (Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 25)

Primordial ooze never wriggled into
my cherished thoughts, but other,
less dramatic, less primeval goo —
like cookie dough, ice cream,
cream cheese frosting – sure has.
Sometimes stupid things play god,
demand respect as manifest destiny,
convince us we "deserve" them
when they're false gods, wanting only
to bring us down, make us less that planned,
less than possible with a real God
greater than goo, primordial or
confectionary. The universe knows
we can't save ourselves through ooze.

Hogmanay

I drink to the hope that the friends of youth may be companions in old age. ~ Robert Burns

Sixty-five years after Bob’s steady girl moved away,
he used the Internet to locate Claire. Today
I led them through their wedding vows.
We connect on social media with friends
and kin we’ve not seen in decades,
bind close to folk we’ve never seen.
Auld land syne, old long since,
we rejoice in friendship bonds,
in ties. Yet addicts, loners,
often hide in pixel-talk, in online chat.
Let us reach out not only with head
and hands, but find a way to claim
real hugs, physical touch, to bind
our open wounds and soothe aching scars.