Lifelong Friends

Among them you will make lifelong friends. ~ ​Alcoholics Anonymous, ​page 152

Friendship. What a marvelous idea,
how lucky are those who experience it.
How hollow this promise rings for us
who have always felt friend-deprived.
I once thought I had no friends,
observed, "Others think I'm their friend,
but I have none." How silly!
How arrogant. How wrong.
All it takes is finding other folk
so like ourselves they seem to reside
in our skin, so compatible they appear
as reflections of us. Then these people,
Recovery folks, become lifelong friends
as soon as we meet, as soon as we aver,
I'm friendless, a compulsive overeater
of alcoholic, or co-dependent, whatever.
Just use the one name, ​Friend.

Only Today

It doesn't matter what date you use for your "sobriety". Today is the only day you can be sober. ~ Maureen Gibbons

Counting the days should be glorious,
should be exhilarating, encouraging,
egging us on, enticing.
Why, then, does it trip us up,
derail us, hinder those last days
to public recognition?
What is there about a plastic token
that shoves us back to addiction
instead of feeling like a pat on the back?
Yet it looms large, a small reward...
Why do I feel unworthy?
Why do I get within an arm's
length only to fail?
Why does the counting of days past —
and those to come – take my eye off today?

Then Try Even Harder

How do you help someone who is self-destructive, without destroying yourself at the same time? Do you keep trying and trying, and then try even harder, or do you stop trying? (Candace Kearns Reads)

Give up? Never!
I will try and try and try
try even harder
and die trying if need be.
Surely with that effort
victory will be mine.
To what end? To change people,
to carry the message,
do service, show the path...
What do you mean,
what if they don't want to go?
Who would not? They just need me,
my help, my fixing the broken,
mending the hurt.
None of my business?
My trying is to dismiss God,
to substitute my own will?
They would refuse to change,
resisting my push
even when they would prefer it?
What should I do, just ​stop??

Chilling Vapor

...the chilling vapor that is loneliness settled down. ~ ​Alcoholics Anonymous, ​page 151

Loneliness suspended in the air,
a damp mass, it's a palpable presence,
icy, frigid, biting. Inclined to escape,
second thoughts make us cringe at the idea,
fearing an imminent suspension in emptiness.
We dwell in the void
loathing recovery's stripping us
of the friendship facade of addiction.
Warmth and companionship foreswore us,
leaving us bereft and wretched.
Will we ever again have leave of the shroud?
Yes! Look closer. Is it a shroud or a duvet?
Friendship lies not in the dreary past
but dwells in the gracious accommodations
of recovery. Examine your surroundings,
listen to wisdom of those who established presence,
who prepared the respite. "Welcome home."
"Let us love you." "We understand."
You brought the chill with you,
clinging to what you knew. Release it,
find welcome and peace, conviviality and joy
in coming home to the place you've dreamed of.

She's Not Me

Yes, shes mine,
but shes not me.
I know who she is
I know what she is
but I'm not her.
For my part in forming her,
leading her, teaching her,
supporting her
I stand ready to make amends
but who she is
is none of my business,
not my doing
and while I may cringe
at what she's done,
who she is,
she's not me
and I'm not her.

A Life Well Lived

Darrel Sparkman
1963 - 2012

Cousin, I hardly knew you
but I love your parents
and you loved mine.
A sanctuary suffused with flowers,
over-filled with folks,
balcony full, overflowing
to Fellowship Hall,
you led a solemn parade
stretching miles.
I heard of a man of few words
except in song, kindly
doing favors, vanishing
before gratitude.
A man gone far too soon,
kind deeds, skill and wisdom
reflecting a life well lived.

Keep On Going

If you're going through hell, keep going. ~ Winston Churchill

Why would you tarry in hell?
Who would not want out?
But how often do we loose sight,
lose focus, when the poor-me's set in.
Long after addiction becomes hell
rather than escape of comfort
we stay, determined to recapture the fun.
The sky falls in on plans and hopes
and energy shrivels, dies,
leaves us in the rubble of self-loathing.
One day at a time is a rule for good days
but more – even if it's just minute by minute,
breath by breath – we must keep moving
to the next, keep walking out,
rise on to hope and joy.

Mirror, Mirror

If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourself. What isn’t part of ourselves doesn’t disturb us. ~ Hermann Hesse

Irritation at behavior rankles,
aggravates, unhinges.
Why something others think innocuous
should propel me to derangement,
I don't know. I would never act so!
And then I do. And little by slow
I come to understand. God show my faults
to me by putting others with that flaw
into my life. When your actions anger me
it's caused by my secret flaws
mirrored back to me in yours.

Who's in Charge?

On arising, we think of the day,
the calendar, the challenges, the hopes.
We leave behind self-pity,
ulterior motives, temptation to hide
in lies, in fear, in procrastination.
Thankful to face a day of recovery,
the addiction and insanity
no longer compelling, controlling,
we relinquish control, glad
to affirm we're not god.
We're merely reporting for duty.

Those Who Wrong

This was our course: We realized that the people who wronged us were perhaps spiritually sick. ~ ​Alcoholics Anonymous,​ page 66.

A mile in another's moccasins
leads a mile along a compass course
or deep into two souls – the shoe owner,
the shoe wearer.
When I compare my insides
with your outsides,
we're both misread.
When we listen, feel with,
relate, we find kindred spirits,
souls hurting, needing solace,
solidarity... We find wronged people
we're apt to wrong
as long as we see footwear
and wearer
as soiled.

Courtesy of the Heart

There is a courtesy of the heart. It is akin to love. Out of it arises the purest courtesy in the outward behavior. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe [Overeaters Anonymous, For Today (Kindle Locations 2249-2251)]

I met George W. Bush, candidate for governor;
on the same ballot I sought reelection to a county bench.
I'd met others. John Tower, Kay Bailey Hutchison,
Carole Rylander, Patricia Lykos, Barbara Culver...
many more. Many were kind (one noticeable exception)
but courtesy of the heart – the kind I remember clearly
these seventeen years later – emanated from Bush.
People in the rooms of Recovery have that same heart,
the love, the acceptance, the guilt-free trust.
They care. They believe in possibility in each person.
Without condoning negative behavior or words,
still they respect the individual.
Courtesy of the heart cannot be applied,
adopted, acquired. Nor can it be
forgotten.
 

Redefining Literal

...had to redefine what literal is... ~ Jo Cox

Literal – usual or most basic sense,
no metaphors, no allegory,
without exaggeration, undistorted,
exact. Lacking wiggle room.
Take it or leave it.
But what if I don't ​like ​it?
What if it doesn't fit my needs?
What do you mean,
no easier, softer way?
Half measures count for ​something!
Don't they? After all, they're called ​suggestions!
Guides to progress! ​What about that phrase
"progress, not perfection?"
Sure, it's simple, at least easy to say.
But to do it?
Yeah, my way has never worked.
But you can't mean all this stuff ​literally!

As Life Begins with a Cry

...but religion begins as life does, with a cry of hunger – and reason comes long after. ~ Bill Pittman and Dick B. Courage To Change (Kindle Locations 345-349)

Jesus told Nicodemus he had to be born again,
not to study the law and the prophets.
Knowledge gets us nowhere —
we have facts, statistics, experience,
reason, understanding of all the data
but cannot solve or even grasp how solving
would look. We can only find new life
like an infant, bursting into something big,
something bright, something beyond
and cry out with angst, with hope,
with hunger for the prize long-sought
and suddenly ours.

Fly, Boy

Ordinary ain't your style boy, it's like a jacket way too small. ~ Elliott Park

Would that you were hot or cold
but you're not so I'll spew you out.
Do – or do not. There is no try.
Lead, follow our get out of the way.
We of the rooms of Recovery
come from isolation, longing to be
of the crowd, normal, a part.
We've lived in our mental hierarchy,
above most – jealous, fearful of the rest.
We avoid attention-getting endeavors —
don't look at me! Let me blend in...
Then that Power we decided to yield to
beckons what we least want to do.
"What anybody thinks of you
its none of your business."
The outcome of your risking
is out of your hands, not your concern.

So go on and fly, boy —
To the sky, boy.
Win or lose, you are free.
But wherever you go, boy
Clouds above or rocks below, boy
You don’t belong here in between.

It's not plagiarism if everybody knows I'm quoting God through John's Revelation and Yoda. The last quote is from Elliott Park's "Fly Boy" from the album Flyboy.

How to Take

One can know nothing of [anything] that is worthy to give unless one also knows how to take. ~ Havelock Ellis (as quoted in For Today)

Say, "Thank you" and then shut up.
I am worthy. Oh, how false that feels!
I am something, deserving recognition.
I deserve to be heard, to be honored.
I am precious, lovely, loved —
all those words that make me cringe,
make me want to bury my head
and not be seen.
But I am worthy. I am capable. I am loved.
God, teach me to honor the truth.

Shadow Standing

Most of the shadows of this life are caused by standing in one's own sunshine. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

My biggest impediment
usually is me. I get in the way
with fears, with plans,
with grand schemes
of my own, crowding out
voices of reason from folks
or from God. I doubt,
therefore I set myself up,
falling flat on my face.
I give up when the going gets hard.
Fortunately, though, friends and God
don't usually buy into
my follies.

Self-portrait in Madrid

No, Thanks!

Moses could have said, "No, this is too weird." ~ Jo Cox

Imagine following an errant sheep
up a mountain, pausing at a burning bush
not being consumed. Some voice speaks,
"Take off your shoes, this dirt's holy."
Then he asked Moses to return, facing warrants.
He said, "Tell Pharaoh to let his slaves go free,
the lot of them." Throwing down some shepherd's staff
that turned into a snake...
Would you have gone?
Just what kind of God's will are you willing to do?

Ruthlessly

I ruthlessly faced my sins and became willing to have my new-found Friend take them away, root and branch. ~ Alcoholics Anonymous, page 13

Ruthlessly – without pity, lacking compassion.
Merciless, cruel, heartless. The word works well
for someone I scorn, for enemies.
For my sins? Sure.
But wait a minute.
Some of those are attached,
deep-rooted, part of me.
Do I want to ruthlessly attack me?
Root and branch harkens back to England,
the year 1640, and even then it meant
removing entirely because it was bad.
Life as I've known it is bad,
rotten – root, branch and trunk.
Yes, I'm willing to ruthlessly
face my sins, to remove the rotten core,
to embrace recovery fully.

Unreservedly

There I humbly offered myself to God, as I then understood Him, to do with me as He would. I placed myself unreservedly under His care and direction. I admitted for the first time that of myself I was nothing; that without Him I was lost. I ruthlessly faced my sins and became willing to have my new-found Friend take them away, root and branch. I have not had a drink since. ~ ​Alcoholics Anonymous,​ page 12

Unreservedly.
How do you remove reserves?
Frank and open,
not booked in advance.
Without reservations.
Like going on a trip,
trusting right decisions,
not controlling before,
not locking in plans.
Relying on the stock, the troops
engaged, holding nothing back,
all in. Betting the pot,
trusting, No second team.
Giving up control,
actually trusting this Power
I came to believe
could restore me to sanity.

Legacy of Mistrust

I've changed. Believe me.
Forget the times I betrayed you,
belittled you, undercut you.
Trust me, I've changed.
Why won't you believe me?
What can I say to convince you?
You've got every right not to believe.
What you think of me
is none of my business.
Living a life you can trust
is.

Comfort Zone

"Your comfort zone is a weakness." Victoria Lee quoting RYLA counselor.

Inside comfort zones progress unnecessary growth will atrophy

Transference

Dog hairs rub off on everything,
even things they never touched,
got no closer than fifty yards.
Black streaks generously relocate,
a lighter surface draws gleeful rubbing.
Coal marks float through air
while peaceful colors — beauty —
stays put.
Grace and peace have much to share
with bitterness, resentment, hate...
But why does the transfer never work?
Why do negatives always convert
positives, never yield to the light of hope.
As you offer service find ways
to replenish the good, restoring
what curmudgeons scrape off.

Monster, May I?

Monster, may I ignore you today?
Monster, may I give you no power over me?
Monster, may I make thoughts of you
fleeting, powerless, puny pop-able balloons?
Monster, may I go my way in power,
confident, with purpose, at least today?
Monster, I may.
Monster, I will!

Inwardly Reorganized Plus

I saw that my friend was much more than inwardly reorganized. ~ Alcoholics Anonymous, pages 11-12

Housekeeping chores abound,
compound, confound.
It's hard enough when you can see,
when measuring progress is physical,
thing by thing, area by area.
Yet the harder rearranging is internal,
and oh, how much more needed!
How great the increased potential.
Toss out the hatred, the spite, the envy.
Resentments piled in boxes,
ready to haul away.
Priorities set straight,
rabbit trails discarded,
a shine on the new-found hope,
trust covering everything in confidence
like pixie dust. Housecleaning done,
we survey the results to find new growth —
potential —
blossoming in long-abandoned plots.

Dank you for my sins

"Dear God, dank you for dis day. Dank you for my mommy, daddy, bubbas, and meself. Dank you for my sins. Help me sleep so I rise up and do your 'Will... and Aaron.' Safe and warm. Amen".  ~ quoted by Barrett Thomas

My sins. They're mine.
And none of your business.
Leave me along if nobody's hurt.
My sins. They're mine.
And they are my business.
I can fool the whole world
but not me...
When I'm honest with me
my sins accuse me
haunt me
convict me.
When I'm honest
my sins pull me up.
When I'm honest
my sins make me whole.

Why?

“Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say?" ~ Luke 6:46 NIV

Why do you say these Steps don't work
when you've never worked them?
Why do you set a foodplan
and ignore it whenever you please?
Why do you call your sponsor
when your day's been good
but never when you're struggling?
Why do you come late to meetings
and slip out before it's over?

What have you done today
to draw closer to the Recovery you want?

Basics Are Basic

Forty years ago I was darned good at math
but lousy at arithmetic which yanked some rugs.
I never practiced the piano enough, and scales?
I saw no use in those, disdained the repetition.
Yesterday I played tech guru, piddling with controls,
pulling my hair about silence on the other end,
wishing I were there to fix the problem — there —
when halfway through I recognized a signal
staring right at me — and unmuted on my end.
How often do we revel in Recovery, in promises
and progress, ignoring the fact we, each of us,
have a daily reprieve contingent
on the maintenance of our spiritual condition?

Paradox of Healing

But if you decide to work on your relationship post-affair, you must accept a hard truth: Another affair can happen. This is the paradox of healing, Seidel said. ~  Margarita Tartakovsky, M.S.

How can another hurt heal an owie?
Sure, sometimes a hangnail hurts
until you smash a toe and forget the nail!
But it still hurts, the new one didn't change it —
just refocused the mind.
But that's enough, isn't it?
A baby falls, protests loudly
then a bouncing ball banishes all pain.
Sometimes, though, pain lingers through coddling,
through self-pity, through grudge-building.
Sometimes we deal with the pain
by planning vengeance, by trying to change another.
Sometimes we hurt for taking on life-living
for someone else, doing none of our business.
And when we stop
hurts heal.

The Bridge of Reason

Some of us had already walked far over the Bridge of Reason toward the desired shore of faith. ~ ​Alcoholics Anonymous ​page 53

Reason has no substance, no load-bearing span.
But reason can bridge as a verb,
can bring minds together.
And reason can be the noun bridge
so long as it's the conceptual kind,
connecting, reconciling, bringing minds together.
Limitations hinder, though, the bold explorer
cognitively striding it's span,
for this metaphysical connection
cannot reconcile a single mind,
cannot harmonize a solo voice.
Fear not, though. This bridge of reason
unites the would-be pilgrim
with power greater, bolder, vaster
than mind can imagine. And Power
stands, watching, waiting, anticipating
the prodigal penitent
stepping forward,
anxious to receive the gracious gift
of faith.

Simple, Practical

They had told of a simple religious idea and a practical program of action. ~ Alcoholics Anonymous, page 9

A simple religious idea:
Believe as you want to believe,
but know you're not god,
that a power greater than you
can heal your soul, bring sane living,
bless you beyond belief
when you decide to surrender
that which you couldn't manage anyway.
A practical program of action:
Not some philosophy or theology,
they're called steps for a reason.
It's  not grand ideas, eloquent words,
the right frame of mind.
It's doing what the book says,
listing grievances against us,
then getting real. Admitting the truth,
becoming honest and humble,
making amends, walking the walk
every day, not just the easy ones,
meditating, following, and serving.
Nothing complicated.
Just a simple and practical miracle.

Musing

With a certain satisfaction I reflected there was enough gin concealed about the house to carry me through that night and the next day. My wife was at work. I wondered whether I dared hide a full bottle of gin near the head of our bed. I would need it before daylight.

My musing was interrupted by the telephone. ~ Alcoholics Anonymous, page 8.

Grand plans, excellent concepts,
a proposal to excite Wall Street
and loosen expense accounts.
Bill W had lived the high life,
had mused of fame, fortune, acclaim.
Small comforts, minute encouragement,
diminutive plans to placate powerful passions.
Unable to care for himself, dependent on Lois,
he schemed to deceive, pondered possible loss
of gin. How miniscule are our musings
from addiction's death grip...