My Right

Who are you to say I don't belong here?
I have as much right, I'm sure,
to be here, to live, to walk,
to strut should it please me,
or dance to the music in my head...
I need not conform to some set of rules
meant to mold me to conformity,
to force compliance with edicts.
Not guides mandated by reason,
by civilization's needs
but frivolities, the whim of fashion,
the command not to wear white in winter.
I'm me. I have the right
to be me. It's none of your business.
But it's nice to have more of my kind
who understand.

Enough to Work

When I have the willingness to admit I don't have the willingness, that's when my program works. ~ Jim H
Change begins with honesty. As we work the fourth step, we develop a new ability to see our own dishonesty and a greater willingness to live by truth. ~ The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous (Kindle Locations 363-364). 

Honesty. Simple honesty.
Elusive, evasive, desirable,
the stuff of dreams, of myth...
Honesty. With family, friends,
clerks, the public...with God
and with self. And the self,
that's the hardest, the most raw.
Even with it all inside,
somehow the truth gets set aside
and comfort wins, fooling us
comes to be the norm.
But freedom comes with honesty,
with truth-telling about our needs,
our feelings, our avoidance,
our actions. And to admit – to me —
a failure to be willing, to commit to work
to be willing to be willing to be free.

Knock, Knock

You say knock and you'll answer.
Why does that scare me?
I'm told I'll find what I seek,
ask and I'll get it.
But can you promise I'll want
then what I think I want now?
It's the door between us, shut tight.
Yeah, I know, it would open
if I weren't leaning on it.
But with it open, I'd have no control.
Well no, things I've controlled haven't worked
just right, or even very close to right
But things I've gotten I wanted
disappoint as well. They don't assuage.
Want better? I've tried. Grand wants,
specific wants, my best laid plans.
Want different? Ask unlike?
Give me a break, some peace.
That's what you mean? You'll give me rest,
peace? Wings to soar?
Knock, knock.

Not Unnatural!

The fact entirely escaped me that a heart could be in such a condition that praise and rejoicing would be as natural as breathing; that the cause of joy rested not in any thing external, but in some fixed inward state or possession; that, therefore, perpetual praise could not only be possible, but natural, and in fact irrepressible. ~ Beverly Carradine Sanctification (Kindle Locations 75-77).

How can it be natural to be happy?
When millions of people trod through the world
woebegone, lonesome, miserable
that can certainly seem the normal state,
the way of the world.
It feels natural – until it doesn't.
When we dare to believe in hope,
in purpose, in peace, in life worth living
then all we see is hope, purpose, peace...
life worth living.

Saying vs. Being

What is the difference between saying I'm entirely ready and being entirely ready? (The Twelve-Step Workbook of Overeaters Anonymous, page 39)

Saying is a head thing.
Being is a heart thing.
Saying means I'm in control,
I've made the decision,
this is the direction
I'm going at least
until I decide it doesn't work
and come up with something
magical and wonderful
that is BOUND to work.
BEING, though, is in the moment,
is surrender, is the tons of weight
I've carried cognitively...
being ready to give way
to control from a truly sapient being,
a Power greater than I.

Anger

My anger comes from my own actions and my own thoughts... I can come back to center. I don't want to be on your merry-go-round. ~ Miranda O

I don't have to respond.
You actually cannot push my buttons.
Oh, you know the triggers,
where they are...the empty shells
that held them, displayed them,
dared you to push. You wore them out,
watching me explode, justifying your anger
with my own. But you're left with you own, now,
for my button's disabled. Oh, it could still work...
could turn back on in an instant, but I control
the turning on, and as long as I hold my peace,
cherish my serenity, mind my business,
keep my broom on my side of the street...
the button simply doesn't work. I choose peace.

"Expert" Comes from Experience, Too!

In medical school, we doctors are never taught about overeating, certainly not as a disease. So we are prejudiced against it. Overeaters Anonymous is very successful with cases that haven’t responded to conventional kinds of treatment. This success is often threatening to the professionals because it’s difficult for us to see how someone who hasn’t had years of study and experience could be more successful with people we’ve been trying to treat, unsuccessfully, for so long. ~ William Rader, M.D. Overeaters Anonymous, Second Edition (Kindle Locations 2915-2919)

From the beginning, before the steps were numbered,
one big truth was known, was gospel: One addict
talking to one addict can do what medicine never could.

We come to these rooms with intelligence, often with degrees,
with credentials. We could write the books about our problem
but only someone else who was in the muck, who was at bottom,
can reach through the "solutions" to touch the hurting inside,
help find the honesty, the surrender,
that gets the job done.

Don't look for the doctorates, the alphabet soup behind the name.
Look for someone who has what you want and learn just how it's done.

Push Past the Pain

I have a thing I say to myself, it's called PUSH PAST THE PAIN. And that's what I did, just pushed past the pain. ~ Antoinette Tuff

The pain, the fear, the terror
stands adamant, immobile,
a boulder in the stomach.
Sometimes fears are tamed,
pain assuaged...but new ones loom.
But the pain, the fear, the terror
hold no sway, if we're careful to see...
if we yield to the Power who knows...
if we only do the next right thing
we go through the pain – or where it was —
relieved to see it a mirage, a lie.
It was a step through one more discovery
on the road to freedom from obsession,
to release from insanity,

Antoinette Tuff

Believe It!

...but they don't believe it. And that's the difference. ~ Glenn Beck

They say it's a disease.
If you repeat it like a mantra
but don't believe it, you're blocked.
They say we're not a diet and calories club
but if we act like we are...we are,
with all the failure and humiliation
we've come to expect.
I can't cure arthritic legs by wanting to,
or create 20/20 vision in these old eyes.
I wouldn't ignore a diagnosis of diabetics
or pneumonia or even a nasty cold...
but I do this disease.
When I learn I'm not like normal people —
that they don't eat sweets from five stops
in an hour or two – when I learn my body
is pieced together with different binders,
that it's really an addiction...
when I stop fighting it and welcome the normalcy,
the curable nature of the disease,
when I believe I have the disease of compulsive eating
and am a sugar addict...
then the healing begins!

Time Flies

Time flies...and you don't have to be having fun. ~ Candy at the pharmacy pick up window

Time passes. Systematically.
Rhythmically. Consistently.
Inevitably. While we may perceive
spurts and accretion, rushes add creeping,
time marches exactly, invariably.
Indulging in vices to forget, to numb,
changes nothing but the debris left
as we foolishly try to divert ourselves
as time marches tick, tick,  tick, tick...
no matter what we do to hide.

Gripes and Gratitude

Some days a grateful heart
proclaims the glories of existence.
But not always...
Often the soul sings of birds and buds,
of love and gifts.
But some days seem devoid of cheer.
Gratitude sustains us through good days
but the miserable days...that's when
we discover the glory, the magnificence of love.
But only when we let it in...

my space

I would have told you,

had I the nerve,

to get out of my space,

which stretched twice my arms'

length at least, and had I

gotten away with it, ten to twenty feet.

I didn't mean it, but you shouldn't know

I wanted people near, that I longed

for including, to make the drag, hang out.

That not being offered, I made it my idea,

the loner, the lonely.

I didn't tell you when I came,

sat in your circle. I would have,

but you wouldn't let me,

made me no loner, no longer lonely.

I could have made the drag

had we mastered time travel,

could hang out, drink coffee,

sit with you.

But about my space,

that foot or two or ten -- well,

are you a hugger?

Come into my space.

Wild Grass

Promises blossom 'round

the triumphal arch forged

by my working the steps.

Like a gardener, though,

I can't enjoy them, forgetting

how precious they are.

Doubts, fears, and discontent

won't remain banished

from worked and fertile ground --

like wild grass they lurk,

hoping to reclaim their domain.

Not while I've got the hoe,

never while I remain diligent

to care for the garden of promises.

Eyes Wide Ooen

It's not in the rulebook,
that eyes must be closed,
that prayer requires kneeling,
a posture of contrition.
God's not offended by slang,
by angry words, by minutia.
God likes humor,
shorthand thoughts,
a familiarity others...we...
feel blasphemy.
When we really talk
WITH, not TO God,
its fine with him,
He's happy to visit with us,
eyes wide open.

No Defense

I realized there was no reason to defend myself when I was right. ~ Mary Sabatini

I need only clean my side of the street
and leave yours, hers, his alone.
Your thoughts of me are no business of mine,
and I've no need to shape your mind to appreciate mine.
I've no pride to protect, no ego to nurse,
just a Power to serve and a path to walk.

Just Want to Be

Most organizations have a list of qualifications for membership, but in Overeaters Anonymous we have only one requirement: a desire to stop eating compulsively. ~ The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous (Kindle Locations 1450-1451).\

Precious and priceless it is,
this gift of serenity, this sea of peace.
And you're for the taking. No panel
testing qualifications -- "this one's too fat,"
"that one's hung on these long years,
just doesn't get it, takes up a seat
and makes us look bad."
Well, so what? Who cares?
Sure, we may care 'cause our heart hurts
when she doesn't hang on to the hope,
the joy there for the taking, but she belongs!
Nobody can set any other rule,
any bar, any bright line test,
if you say you want to stop the food mania,
to escape the binges, to sanely dine…
then all we can say is, "Welcome home!
We're glad you're here."

Vital

It is important for him to realize that your attempt to pass this on to him plays a vital part in your recovery. ~ Alcoholics Anonymous (Kindle Locations 1270-1271).

I know what vital signs are but looked up the word vital. To be vital means necessary for life. ~ Josh

How important is a Twelfth Step?
Sure, we know what it says,
that it helps us at least as much,
but that feels fake – at least until we hear
our words that we needed to hear.
But vital? Necessary for life itself?
Indispensable? Yes. I draw comfort
from the tools, the fellowship,
serenity and peace from the spiritual,
but the life of the fellowship, the crux,
the soul is that culminating step,
the spreading of the message.
It's vital to me to pass it on.

The Circle

We stand hand in hand, 

ready to practice principles

outside the rooms, in life, 

in all our affairs. Hand in hand,

we transfer strength, 

receiving, giving, sharing,

endowed with power of the whole

to buoy us, to carry us,

until we once more return to

the rooms, full circle.

Elevator Speech

I need to pitch my book to editors, publishers,
reviewers...let me tell you while we ride this metal cage
a half-dozen floors – my elevator speech.
Am I as willing to talk of recovery? Given the chance
to influence an influence, to reach through another
a mover, a shaker, someone able to spread the message,to tell the world the wonders of recovery...
given the chance do I have my 12-step stump speech ready?
Am I willing to be used in such a way, when I've prayed
for knowledge of God's will for my life, and an obvious answer
appears? What do I have on the ball? Am I ready
to proceed to tell him? Let the words of my mouth
be His.

I Am the Clay

The potter, the painter, the boss — that's me.
I'll direct the play, write the book, design the cover.
That's where I'm comfortable, the role I know.
But that's not how I'm cast this time,
not now, not ever again, not in charge.
No. I made a decision to turn my will, my life,
over to the care of God as I understand him.
To build with me, to do with me out of my control.
To shape me — muddy, yucky, slimy —
into something beautiful.

Confidence

con·fi·dence\ˈkän-fə-dən(t)s, -ˌden(t)s\

noun
1 a : a feeling or consciousness of one's powers or of reliance on one's circumstances <had perfect confidence in her ability to succeed> <met the risk with brash confidence> - © 2012 Merriam-Webster, Incorporated

I once had confidence in myself...
still do, in some circumstances...
but the "simple" things befuddled me,
defeated me, obsessed me, drove me mad.
Things like eating, cleaning, talking to husbands,
raising kids, fitting into last year's clothes...
Confidence? Consciousness of one's powers,
reliance on one's circumstances?
Only if the spelling
is One's!

Definition of Prayer

Your cravings as a human animal do not become a prayer just because it is God whom you must ask to attend to them. ~ Dag Hammarskjold

When we come to the rooms of recovery
if we've a history with a body of faith,
we arrive having prayed, ardently, often,
fervently,  seeking relief from addiction.
We've claimed, "whatever you ask in my name,"
"pray without ceasing," the lesson of repetition.
And nothing happened — at least nothing real,
nothing lasting, nothing solving the problem.
We look at Step Two askance, wishing to believe
but knowing the futility. Still, we've said we'd try...
and we do, again and again, until finally
directing God as to how to fix us, asking
for the things we know we need...
until we give up and grasp the difference
in praying for God to do our will
and in knowing we'll gladly do
whatever we're told to, what he beckons.

Get Excited

Get excited about what's next. ~ Julie T

Comfort is what I know,
what I've done before,
where I've been.
I can dream dreams,
make plans, but hold them
at a distance, my fears controlling,
pulling me back.
But these dreams, when taken
as the next right thing
come with promises attached.
And promises believed,
accepted as pledged
are to be acted on, planned on,
anticipated. And like other matters
you can act as if, be excited
by action if not from inside out
and sit back to watch miracles happen.

To Do / Will Do / Just Do

I've known always – well, nearly always —
what I should do. I exercised all my would-be willpower
to some success, short-lived, erratic...
failed miserably, tried again, repeated
ad nauseum.
I could not do.

I discovered the rooms of recovery,
caught the excitement, realized the promise,
worked the steps, set out to do, determined,
expecting to do everything right,
to the n^th degree.
Determined to do program perfectly
I fell on my face.
I say I will – but can't.

Years of listening, learning, healing
as I flail at obedience, strive to give up,
knowing that's an oxymoron, feeling like another...
Serving, speaking, writing, "getting it"
and passing it on, but only occasionally
finding recovery internalized...
Until I really do, until I understand
"Your will, not mine," and "do thy bidding."
I can't do it. I can't will it.
But with God's help, I do.

What I Can't Have

Tell me I can have ninety-nine boxes
though the hundredth is reserved —
Certainly that's the one I want.
Tell me I can choose from a mountain of foods
and I'll crave the one denied, the one I vow
to leave alone. What is it that beckons
because Mama said no, even if that happened
a few decades ago? I deserve it,
it matters not it would be the death of me.
I want the lovely berries you say bear poison,
the forbidden fruit, the prize beyond my reach.
But it's the scared child within who yearns,
who finds comfort in achieving that denied.
The part of me with self-respect
knows the loving choice, and wants that most.

That First Glimmer

...that first glimmer of compassion for myself... ~ Miranda O

Confident, you think?
You judge me respectable?
I grin to myself, relieved
to have fooled you, pulled it off.
I can certainly tell you my talents,
my brags, my aptitudes
if only to keep you eyes averted
from all the weakness, from ineptness,
from incompetence. Mostly,
I just hope you'll look away,
see someone else, move along.
Why do you think I dress plainly,
bland, disparaging bling?
But wait. You don't care.
I tell you the worst, and you love me,
admit to such atrocities, to being like me...
You love me no matter who I am.
And comprehending that,
I begin to discover it's not all show...
I do have value.

Enough, at Last

I have learned that when the pain of where I am is worse than the fear of where I’m going, I welcome change. ~ Voices of Recovery (Kindle Locations 2483-2484).

As long as good enough is good enough,
I'll not dare to change, lest I plummet
to depths yet unknown, just feared.
Holding on with a death grip,
fingers weakening, the end in sight
as time stands still and letting go,
plunging to annihilation which seems like peace,
beckons like a siren's song...
Sometimes then some shred of sanity asserts itself —
says there must be something else,
hope somewhere – then desperation opens me
to admit defeat, to know I can't,
that I've tried it all and repeating
brings me back in circles, again,
once more. It's then the hope held out
for years, for the taking, seems not so insane
and worth reaching for...at last.

Lonely, the Duet

My reasons, my thoughts
are foreign to you from my seat here
beside you these long years.
Your dreams, your fears, your longings
I'll never know, for you decline to share.
We sit together apart, isolated,
strangers bearing life alone.
How can I love you so
when I don't know you?

Come as You Are

If you have some respect for people as they are, you can be more effective in helping them to become better than they are. ~ John W. Gardner

If I think I'm better than you
no matter how kindly,
despite gracious words,
you'll feel my rebuke.
When I know I've failed
time and again to fix myself,
when I disdain myself, my willpower,
my control, then I accept you
as my equal, as my friend
no matter how new the tie —
for if I'm incapable
without a Power that can,
I cannot look down on you.

Eyes Satisfied with Seeing

All things are full of weariness; man cannot utter it: the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing. ~ Ecclesiastes 1.8 (ASV)

Yeah, yeah. I know. The trees are budding,
birds fly in formation, sunsets paint the sky.
A child’s smile, a bridegroom’s tear —
“things” should touch my heart.
So why don’t they?
Instead I see the filthy, the tedious, the
reprehensible.
Nobody can spell.
Heck, they can’t even string a sentence
together.
I can’t count on anybody to do anything right,
to follow through, to see to detail.
And I don’t have time.
All things are wearisome. Life is wearisome.

God, shatter my shell so the world can flood
my soul.
I want to feel, even if it’s pain.
I want to live.
I need to live in your love.

Rollins, Barbara B. (2011-12-29). A Time for Verse - Poetic Ponderings on Ecclesiastes (Kindle Locations 79-88). Eagle Wings Press imprint of Silver Boomer Books. Kindle Edition.

Those Fat Cells

Nothing gets as hungry as fat. ~ David S

A hundred extra pounds or so,
and the message from head
to subordinates demands consumption
of thousands on thousands of extra fat
or my preferred building blocks...
grains of sugar disguised as ice cream,
apple fritters, scones, cookies,
and their other ilk.
They're crafty, those fat pounds,
convincing the brain treats fix all,
of deserving, of rights, of needs for rewards.
But when the fat has ruined the life,
has created chaos, has become enmeshed
in emotions quashed, in gluttony unchecked,
then we've learned to work twelve steps
and turn it over to supportive people
relying on a Power surpassing
the power of fat cells.