Not Helpless

I am powerless over fixing myself, but I am not helpless. ~  Voices of Recovery (Kindle Location 205).

Admitted we were powerless over food —
that our lives had become unmanageable.Yes. I cannot manage my life,
I am way beyond being able to control food,
to exercise one whiff of self-control,
to regender that once-present willpower...
I cannot do it. I give up.

Now, what comes next may be wallowing
in waste, giving in, letting go and trying to believe...
I could enjoy it. But what works, what solves the problem
is not giving up but surrendering. Moving past that first,
that initial step, but moving on to the other eleven,
finding a way to get past it still without willpower,
never finding self-control, never being "cured"
but only – ONLY??? – recovered.

Depression

If what I feel were equally distributed to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on earth. ~ Abraham Lincoln

Sadness for us seems supreme,
beyond measure, unsurpassed.
And maybe for us at the time it is
but another time, piled on that,
can feel even greater, larger, more.
But we are a community of people,
an amalgamation, a group.
If we quit the isolation, if we acknowledge
a circle of life, a community,
if we are a part rather than apart,
it's all bearable for it has been borne.

Knowing Honesty

Only God can fully know what absolute honesty is. Therefore each of us has to conceive what this great ideal may be — to the best of our ability. ~ Bill W.

Perfection comes naturally for us...
at least trying for perfection.
If I can't do it perfectly, never mind.
Why try? Or I obsess about it,
put my whole self into it, explaining,
justifying, excusing my failure to attain
by your inability to do your part,
by the world being against me,
by something beyond my control.
I may not know what absolute honesty is
but I darned sure know what it is not.
If I avoid what I know I should avoid,
if I admit my failure but don't use it as excuses,
if I do to the best of my ability,
that's absolute honesty perfected
as far as I can get it...for today.

Tenses

Under the old covenant, the priest stands and ministers before the altar day after day, offering the same sacrifices again and again, which can never take away sins. But our High Priest offered himself to God as a single sacrifice for sins, good for all time. Then he sat down in the place of honor at God’s right hand. There he waits until his enemies are humbled and made a footstool under his feet. For by that one offering he forever made perfect those who are being made holy. ~ Hebrews 10:11-14 (NLT)
No one among us has been able to maintain anything like perfect adherence to these principles. We are not saints. The point is, that we are willing to grow along spiritual lines. The principles we have set down are guides to progress. We claim spiritual progress rather than spiritual perfection. ~ Alcoholics Anonymous, Page 60

“Made perfect.”
Past tense.
“Being made holy.”
Present progressive.
The first 100 in A.A.
said they had recovered,
but claim spiritual progress,
not perfection.
I want to be made perfect.
But I resent the continuing efforts
to be made holy.
Can’t I have recovery on a silver platter?
Nope. Not if I want progress.
Not if I want to be made holy.

God, I disdain people
who don’t try to see to their needs,
to grow. In this,
I seek your help, your will,
to walk your path, not theirs.

Taken from A Cloud of Witnesses - Two Big Books and Us (Kindle Location 1464-1482). Eagle Wings Press imprint of Silver Boomer Books

Tired of Starting Over

However, one night I made a conscious decision to break my abstinence and ate three cookies. Then I called a trusted friend in program and confessed. She asked me, 'Aren’t you tired of starting over?' I made another decision that night. I was never going to start over again; I date my continuous abstinence from that day, more than fifteen years ago." ~ Overeaters Anonymous, Second Edition (Kindle Locations 1640-1643)

Tired of starting over,
exhausted with the old routine,
start a diet on Monday or the first,
or the dark of the moon? and break it,
going ahead with the bad behavior,
the old habits, waiting for the next
Monday, first, new moon to begin again.
But after a while there's no praise
in coming back, in keeping on, in holding tight
to the tradition, all we need is a desire to stop.
After a while the same old stuff, starting once more...
After a while responsibility, accepting maturity,
must be embraced. After a while you're just tired
of starting over one more time.

No Man Truly Knows Another

No man can justly censure or condemn another, because indeed no man truly knows another. ~ Sir Thomas Brown

My side of the street.
I may think she's a negligent mother,
he far exceeds profligate spending,
they should cease their gossip.
But I have no business there.
I can be a better aunt to the child,
can watch my own budget
and decline to lend to the spendthrift,
can turn away from their gossip.
But it is not mine to condemn them,
only to keep my side of the street
clean.

Small-Minded Rules

Pope Francis said the Catholic Church had become obsessed by “small-minded rules” about how to be faithful and that pastors should instead emphasize compassion over condemnation... Reporter News

Rules are important.
We know that when we get here,
having been obsessed by rules
these years past...by enforcing them
on others but especially on ourselves,
by failing to live by rules enforced
by others or by ourselves.
Rules, rules, rules, we are sick of rules.
Then we find people who know us,
who are us, who have been as miserable
but who smile, who laugh at themselves,
who love us, who know how to live
so the rules take care of themselves,
and we so want to be like them.

Know Thyself

I went to the dentist, had my picture made,
every which way but loose, and was left in the end
sitting there, looking at a not-so-becoming
image of me. Who was that monster,
coud I ever really be that? Pictures don't lie
even if they don't tell the truth. It's me.
And inside me something arrogant, something defiant,
something ugly and gruesome still lies. I have a reprieve
from insanity but it's one day at a time
contingent on my spiritual awareness, on my surrender.

Down to Nothing

"When you're down to nothing, God is up to something." - quoted by Pat Quick

We don't direct the play in the drama of life,
for playing God doesn't work. We are his agents,
not the principal. He's the father, we dutiful children.
It's this simple idea that marks the beginning
of the path to freedom. But we get there not from strength
but from the depths of despair, from surrender,
from giving up. We find God's guidance by needing it,
by acknowledging our inability as opposed to One who Can,
and then, in our weakness, God shows his glorious strength
and our ability to become who we could not have imagined
but dreamed of constantly.

Setbacks

The setbacks always teach me something. ~ Julie Trudeau

I could lambast myself for slips,
bewail my frailty, my transgressions.
And there's value in seeing them,
naming them, examining the circumstances,
what I'd been doing, saying, hearing,
feeling... not doing. And knowing,
I stand at a decision point.
I can learn from the failure, grow,
make amends, work the program.
Or, not choosing wisdom,
I can fall back into hopelessness,
despair, hell.

Until At Last

For all of us, however, the days of controlled eating grew fewer and farther apart, until at last we came to OA, looking for a new solution. ~ The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous (Kindle Locations 68-69)

Sure I could lose weight — expertly!
I was great at it for a while,
obsessive compulsive on the diet du jour.
But then with some success I delivered
a prize well-merited, starting the downhill slide.
Again and again, weight creeping up,
Up and down, yo-yoing forever,
but the time for diets becoming abbreviated,
the binges a way of life. Until finally, enough!When I walked through the doors
of Overeaters Anonymous, I came as expert,
stayed as hopeless, powerless, surrendered.
And with that start, it clicked, I became new,
and finally found a way to like me no matter what,

Wishes, Dreams and Schemes

Dreams of super-powers,

of Peter Pan flight,

yield to visions of fairy godmothers

to jerk us away, to match us

with charming princes.

Decades later the fountain of youth

entices, rekindles what-if dreams.

For a fortunate few, somewhere

along that road, among those years,

real magic we'd always hoped for 

blossoms and blooms. Then

following a simple path,

twelve steps long, lifelong dreams

become fond memories 

from a place

beyond our wildest dreams.

Something

As a result of practicing the Steps, the symptom of compulsive overeating is removed on a daily basis, achieved through the process of surrendering to something greater than ourselves; the more total our surrender, the more fully realized our freedom from food obsession. ~ OA Suggested Meeting Format

Something greater than ourselves.
We speak of God of our understanding,
of a Higher Power, or just a Power...
and many of us envision an individual
of some sort, a humanoid being.
But what about those who balk,
who find that an impediment,
who cannot take the second step,
believing a Power can restore our sanity,
or  the third, making a decision
to turn our will, our life, over to
a God we cannot understand.
But a something greater than me...
Surely everybody can imagine something
greater, and with this as a starting point,
recovery happens, despite that God
we cannot understand.

Lying to God

You can’t pray a lie. ~ Mark Twain

Can you lie to God? You can certainly say words
that aren't true, can misstate facts,
but if you know it's false, doesn't that negate prayer?
It's not that we can't say horrid things to God,
heartfelt lamentations, angry tirades. That's okay,
honest communication, and God welcomes honesty.
But when we lie, we're assuming God's less than God,
that he's just not that smart, that we can put something over
and that makes us the god, and we're talking to ourselves,
not really lying to God.

Knowing How

I sat, tired from a day visiting,
comfortable in my son's distant home,
chilling  out with an old friend,
a game of Shisen on the computer.
My son moved next to me,
watched me play.
I remembered his saying
another time and place
of a different game,
"I've watched it played often."
I reached a stalemate,
asked for a hint...an obvious play
I'd missed. He said he'd thought
adjacent tiles could not be matched,
I said they can, I tend not to see them.
He asked the rules, and I stumbled,
probably said I don't go over one
or turn more than three times.
Close, but wrong: "connected
by three or less lines."
I knew by long doing,
he by focused watching.
And both were wrong.
For the stuff that counts,
I need to study and to act,
and without either
I know less than I could,
less than I should.

Antibiotic

Applying willpower to this compulsion is like applying an antibiotic to a viral infection. It will never have any effect. ~ Voices of Recovery (Kindle Locations 862-863).

They call the other people
"normies" for a reason.
They've got this illusive "will power"
we dream of, but we can't get it...
And they can and don't understand
our ineptitude in not being like them.
But we're not normal, just normal for us
and that's what makes it so neat!
The disease sympomized by lack of willpower
can bring us grace and peace, serenity and joy
and life beyond our wildest dreams,
just because we have no willpower
and fit in the rooms of recovery.

Temptation

Temptation is a weather gauge,
showing prevailing winds,
predicting the future by the present,
static, innocuous, but meaningful.
The bowl of candy leaving Rotary
most Fridays sits there. I see it,
rejoice that it doesn't call my name.
Until it does. When I want to dig the spoon
into those mint-flavored, candy-coated
chocolate morsels. When I even think
about what's in them, it's like that
BLEAT, BLEAT, BLEAT ... this recovery
has been interrupted, and storms are coming
unless you get back into right mind,
surrender, ask for God's will, not mine,
and put those candy-thoughts in their place.

A Modicum of Faith

Newborn as Shiloh roiled, Sam modeled wisdom, grace —
an unpretentious man. They trekked to Arkansas then on,
set up a church and scattered seed; a place
in Texas dawned a home, a farm from faith and brawn.
Sam served and sowed from youth through eighty years of
love, attuned to all of life, revered for prayers he spoke.
His unobtrusive faith invoked response above
the ken of prouder men while healing hurting folk.
Sam melded foot and severed toe, stanched blood with words
and healed a distant mule by speaking through a phone.
Example etched in children trust that undergirds,
and evenings he would sing, a radiant baritone.
A simple righteous man, a man I never knew —
Pacific battles raged as Sam progressed in peace,
a saint. And now Sam’s grandson’s daughter finds it true
that mountain-moving faith exists and shall not cease.

Sam Paisley Richards with youngest daughter Ruth and wife Mamie 

Hide and Seek with God

Can your mind's eye watch God giggle?
Have you ever been the adult in the room
so long you want to shatter the illusion?
Do you like to laugh? Does God?
Is  your god so Old Testament
he never relaxes, never chats?
If you were choosing friends —
or teachers, pastors, role models —
would you insist levity leave?
We are told in the rooms of recovery
to choose our own god, to create one
we trust, we choose to follow, we like!Would your god play hide and seek,
eager for you to find him?

Boiled as an Owl

The old alcoholics,
crafting their book
to carry the message,
spun pictures of words —
the goose hung high,
an alcoholic in his cups,
boiled as an owl...
but the words made sense
for they spoke the language,
shared the culture,
knew each other.
We walk in the rooms,
know nobody there,
but share the same stories,
have lived them,
secretly, thinking none knew.
But they did, they do,
and they've answers.
And because we speak
the same thoughts,
we know we're home,
and there's hope.

ablution

He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?”
Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”
“No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.”
Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”
“Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!”
Jesus answered, “Those who have had a bath need only to wash their feet; their whole body is clean. And you are clean, though not every one of you.” ~ John 13:6-10 (NIV)

 

Perfection is a character defect...
an imperfect one perhaps,
but a dilly of one. We come dirty,
filthy, vile, disgustingly loathsome
but here we find cleansing, health,
ablution. We are purged of our foulness,
made whole, complete. But not perfectly,
not an unconditional warranty, not forever.
Surrender is not complete,

for we're not bound to the course,
not chained to love. We can stray,
wander through muddy waters,
wallow in a pigsty. And know it.
Fear it. Cringe at the thought.
So we cling to the cleansing
in fear, in desperation
refusing to accept our stumbling,
our wavering. We will be clean
if clean we can be, hold the ablution.
Or we about face back to perfectly putrid.

ebullition

Ladies don't throw hissy fits.
That's one of the rules, the guide,
the way to be a lady instead
of merely female. Anger doesn't
become you. It's not nice.
"Nice" compels to hidden emotion,
to choked down responses,
to bearing up and taking it.
And surely food will aid control...
at least of that. But why restrain
the ire to the enabling of the food
long after gluttony takes over
as the major problem in your life?
Sometimes it's best to let it out,
to shout from the roof
"I'm mad as hell and I'll not take it!"
instead of being nice, complacent,
getting along while growing fat.

Is Foolish So Bad?

I thought in my heart, “Come now, I will test you with pleasure to find out what is good.” But that also proved to be meaningless. “Laughter,” I said, “is foolish. And what does pleasure accomplish?” I tried cheering myself with wine, and embracing folly – my mind still guiding me with wisdom. I wanted to see what was worthwhile for men to do under heaven during the few days of their lives. (Ecclesiastes 1:1-3, NIV)

Spoil sport.
Norman Cousins said laughter could cure you
physically. Mentally, too.
Could it be you confuse cheer with beer?
Is foolish so bad?
We already discounted the opposite,
the wisdom.
Isn’t childish the same as foolish?
Surrender’s the key. And the key
doesn’t work with wisdom’s
manipulation.

God, help me discard my sanctimonious
wisdom
and joyfully embrace laying down control
again, as that soldier lays down his weapon in
surrender.
I sit, awaiting your instructions.

Taken from A Time for Verse - Poetic Ponderings on Ecclesiastes

A Nation of Priests

We have not grown up enough to comprehend what it is to be a nation of priests. ~ Jo Helen Cox

Today, about 6,500 OA groups meet each week in over 75 countries. With OA divided into 10 regions worldwide and approximately 54,000 members worldwide, it helps thousands of compulsive eaters find new life in recovery. ~ Overeaters Anonymous website

A priesthood of believers...
a nation of priests...
old ideas, but what of them?
What is a priest? Depends on religion,
on denomination, on governing body edicts.
But is not priest used in these terms
more broadly than structurally?
What does a priest do? Minister,
serve, benefit, provide, lead
toward a Power greater than we.
Carrying recovery, bearing the message,
spreading the good news
until the whole world can find
peace within and become the fulfillment
of peace on earth, serving each other.

To Not Be Liked

It's not a bad thing to not be liked. ~ Joe Flacco

Being popular can be a bother, an obligation to maintain,
and staying in that spotlight can cramp your style,
make you feel it necessary to wear false faces, to conform.
Being popular becomes a goal, an obsession, draining energy
and time from the important, the real. The sanity.
What people think of me, individually or among the masses,
is none of my business. Whether television screens bring my face
to millions of homes, or nobody knows what I am doing,
that's fine with me, for it's a Power beyond me – and Flacco —
who's in charge of running my life, of calling my plays.

Humility Is a Gift

Humility is a gift as surely as is our recovery from compulsive eating and the other miracles of healing we experience as we work the twelve steps. Our job is to be willing to let go of old attitudes which block humility, such as low self-esteem, status-seeking, and self-righteousness. ~ The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous (Kindle Locations 748-750).

We come trying, determined to do this right,
feeling with others of our ilk we can do it,
we can have the willpower this time, it will work...
if we just work hard enough, do it well enough,
hold on long enough. Sometimes we learn quickly,
sometimes only after years, but if we stay long enough
we get it, the gift, the truth. We get it finally
not because we finally did it right but because we know,
finally without doubt, but-ifs, kind-ofs...
Because we know we don't – can't —
earn the recovery we see, the lives we want.
When we can accept humility as a gift,
give up the need to do it ourselves,
then truly all our dreams come true.

Sponsoring

I taught seventh and eighth graders,
tried hard to be tough like the professors had said,
to not let them get anything by. But wuss I was,
struggling to hold on, to keep some kind of control.
Forty-three years have come and gone, and still
I smile, remembering the young man who looked at me
at semester's end, "I'd hate to have you next year!"
I'm teachable, and I know when I hold a loose rein
on folks who come to me, wanting what they see in me,
that I do them no favor. But I am teachable, and I know
I do no favor by letting things go. So, God help me,
as time goes by I'll be more effective tomorrow,
next week, next month. I can become
what God set out to make.

Not Perfect Today

"I am not perfect today." Today when I hear the phrase I sigh with relief. I don't have to live with that untruth. ~ Jhe T

Would I be perfect if I could?
Surely. I've tried forever, failed daily...
hourly. And the answer is, it doesn't matter,
it's fantasy, it's a myth. I'm imperfect
and I'll always be so. Perfection may appear,
may show up, but not as an adjective
modifying me. But as a gift, a state of mind,
of being, of love, that I can hold on to
when I surrender and become humble
so I'm able to accept it.

The Device of Hopelessness

I recognize hopelessness for what it is: my mind protecting me from disappointment. Hopelessness served at one time, but I don’t need that device today. ~ For Today (Kindle Locations 2353-2354).

Hope becomes a burden
when disappointment weighs
and builds and tethers
to the dead weight of past goals
shattered, victims to willpower burst. 
The burden of hope erects a wall
of hopelessness, protection from hope
repeating the past, dismay and embarrassment
building, goading, clobbering the
mincemeat remains of hope.
When the process is changed
by setting aside willpower,
acknowledging lack of power,
accepting a greater source of power,
then hope has no role, for it's not my business
when all I need do is surrender,
listen to instruction,
and do the next right thing.

Elementary

Fire, water, air, earth —

they knew it all, the sages.

The universe in their grasp,

the elements said it all.

Surely millenniums

of knowledge put to shame

such wisdom. We know it all,

earth and sky under our domain.

Yet wisdom pales to rid the pain,

to piece together shattered lives.

Thoughts of moderns fall far short

to grasp the wisdom of the heart.