Give Me Your Garbage

I expect nothing good,
no kindness, no courtesy,
no respect.
I expect your garbage
dumped on me, sarcasm,
bitterness, arrows of spite...
I expect nothing good
but I've come to understand
that's not what I deserve.
I am worthy of respect,
of thoughtfulness, of love.
I've learned where I can find it.
I no longer have to look to you
for my self-esteem. I've found it
not where you denied it, held it from me
but where it's poured out with warmth.

You Know the Difference

It's not the words.
We can sit around the table
and two people can say
exactly the same words,
mouth the same program wisdom,
but we know...
When it's time to look within,
to find someone who has what we want,
to ask for help from that person,
to live the life rather than
repeating slogans, to really recover
we know the difference
but have to find the courage
to admit it.

God's Opinion Poll

Better a poor but wise youth than an old but foolish king who no longer knows how to take warning. The youth may have come from prison to the kingship, or he may have been born in poverty within his kingdom. I saw that all who lived and walked under the sun followed the youth, the kingʼs successor. There was no end to all the people who were before them. But those who came later were not pleased with the successor. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind. ~ Ecclesiastes 4:13-16 NIV

Whippersnapper. Upstart.
Charisma?
Foolish youth, tossing out the past.
Visionary,
lacking old expectations
so able to see?
Mystic or misanthrope?
Hard to tell.
At first.
Time tells.
Life tells.
Those who come later know
what earlier folk
learned the hard way.
Live by opinion polls,
die by opinion polls.

God, Socrates said:
“Be as you wish to seem.”
Help me to win your popularity poll,
not the media’s.

Barbara B. Rollins, A Time for Verse - Poetic Ponderings on Ecclesiastes (Kindle Locations 360-365).

Conviction Contrition Confession

Where does it start, the surrender?
Is it conviction? Standing accused,
confronted with evidence,
proven guilty beyond reasonable doubt?
Is it contrition? Remorse, penitence,
regret? Is it confession, the recitation
of wrongs, of sins, of embarrassments,
of shame? O my God, I am heartily sorry
for having offended Thee,
and I detest all my sins
because of Thy just punishments,
but most of all because they offend Thee,
my God, Who art all-good
and deserving of all my love.
I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace,
to sin no more and to avoid the near occasions of sin.
Where does it start the turning to God?
Came to believe a power greater than ourselves
could restore us to sanity? Made a decision
to turn our will and our lives over
to the power of God as we understand him?
It doesn't matter where it begins. God waits for us,
welcomes us, embraces us, loves us in
and we come home where we've forgotten
how to be.

Powerless Hope

What's the difference between hopeless and powerless? ~ Question from Sponsee

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, 
the evidence of things not seen. Faith.
Faith is what you have when you find power,
not in yourself but beyond you,
the power that can, the power higher,
high enough, the power that is hope.
What is hopelessness, what is hopeless?
Etymologically, the absence of hope.
But if faith is the matter of things subject to hope,
then can there be an absence of hope
so long as there is a power great enough
to be defined with hope?
We admit to being powerless over food,
over life, over stuff and things
but then we admit the existence
of that power, that higher being,
able to restore us to sanity, able to grant power
over food, over procrastination, over stuff.
We admit hope in power, in the idea that hopelessness
is our own, is just in our own ineptness, our own limits,
that hopelessness stops with our own powerlessness.
Powerlessness doesn't go past our own
does not stretch out of the first step,
on to the second. And hopelessness has no place,
no step to call its own. There is no hopelessness
so long as we know the power that defines hope
as it demonstrates power.



 

Consequences

Consequences follow.
A decision not to frequent
a favorite restaurant,
not to go on a trip
with people who disturb you,
not to eat foods that fog your mind,
not to spend the day hidden in bed,
not to eat then disgorge,
not to gossip, to lie, to hide...
Consequences come with good choices
just as with poor ones, and you give up
sometimes on people you do like to visit,
on places you'd like to see,
on crutches you'd like to use.
Consequences follow
and one of the best
is sanity.

Act as If

The apostle Thomas
had one up on me, said
"I believe, help my unbelief."
I don't believe but you say
I must, that I "came to believe"
in some power greater than me.
You talk of the God of my Understanding
but without any understanding,
where's God?
Act as if? You mean lie to God
if he's there? What can that help?
Lying gets me into trouble.
Believe me, I know. Isn't that like
lying to a judge?
But you say it's okay?
I don't believe you.
You say act as if b'cause
God believes in me?
I'd like to believe in a God
who believes in me.

It IS a Disease!

We of Overeaters Anonymous have found in this Fellowship a way to recover from the disease of compulsive overeating. ~ The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous (Kindle Locations 49-50).

An OA physician had an epiphany…
When I am in the ER I often tell alcoholics
"You know, you never have to feel this way again."
Last night I said it to ME. Because I don't!
I don't have to be at the mercy of an addiction.
Any addiction! It is a disease. It says so
in the first sentence of the introduction
to the Twelve and Twelve.
And twenty-eight times before the book ends.
Ninety-seven times in Voices of Recovery,
For Today reminds us thirty times.
OA 2nd? Fifty-three. How many times
must we read that compulsive eating is a disease?
How many times must we hear it?
And how often from our own mouths…
But finally we do hear it. And when we do
we figure out we really are as powerless
as over cancer or flu or diverticulitis.
It's a disease
and all the willpower in the world won't help.
But there is a solution when we understand.

The Greatest Possession

Cling to the thought that, in God's hands, the dark past is the greatest possession you have – the key to life and happiness for others. (Alcoholics Anonymous, page 124)

Humiliation, shame, rage —

hurling dung on the hopes of family,

treacherous dealing with friends,

debauchery, self-contempt.

My pain, my agony, my hopelessness.

Talk about magic, about being born again.

How deep is God's grace to go so far

in rescuing me as to give such scum value,

but even more, to make it priceless.

Casting a Line

How do you carry the message?

Wait until the compulsive eater comes

like a salmon bounding up the river

ready to be grasped? Sure, but the others?

We are an organization of attraction,

not promotion. And walking up,

suggesting, "Have I got a program you need!"

No, we've been on the receiving end,

know how it feels. But setting out a hook,

a bit of bait, a nibble to tempt, and we draw in

questions, comments, conversation openers.

If we're patient fishermen, they'll take the bait
and we can tell them the wonders we've found,

how we got reeled in to recovery.

It's Simple

We can make recovery complicated

and oh, how natural that feels,

we controllers, we perfectionists,

we worriers.
But if we diversify, upsize, augment

or elaborate on it, we don't add...

we eviscerate it.

It's simple. Not easy, mind you, but simple.

Admit we're powerless, come to believe,

decide to surrender, examine our lives,

admit our secrets, become ready

and allow removal, make amends...

and keep on doing  it. Simply.

 

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. (Confucius)

People On the Street

I walk down the street

with a singing heart,

so happy to have found

what was promised,

love and understanding

beyond our wildest dreams.

I walk down the street

with an aching heart,

seeing young people

shuffling along, aided by canes,

carrying massive bodies.

I know what they need,

long to tell them

but who wants a stranger

approaching, suggesting

a solution to obesity?

I walk down the street

with a heavy heart,

aware of my charge

to carry the message of hope

to other compulsive eaters.

I seek for words, for opportunities

to tell them of hope,

of love and understanding

beyond their wildest dreams.

 

Adversity Has Value

In the past when something bothered me, I'd say nothing rather than face an argument. It seemed better for me to be upset than to risk upsetting someone else...
Today I suspect that adversity has value I hadn't previously recognized. When I face adversity and deal with my problems or express my feelings, things have a chance to improve. ~ Courage to Change, page 139

The line I didn't copy, well a line,went on with Even if they don't,
I release some of the pressure.And sometimes it is scary. But it speaks...
it speaks in the words I have finally begun
living life on life's terms. I've known a while.
I've been aware of acting from fear,
not from my choices, not from responsibilities
outside of us, of the two, of codependence.
I do what's easiest, what causes the least ire,
following orders, acting the lackey,
playing the coward. I'd rather keep silent,
continue yielding, not upsetting.
I prefer to avoid adversity. I'd like to say
what a lesson I've learned here,
how I'll be different. I'd like to grow
by leaps and bounds, to claim my pedestal.
But all I can promise is to ask for courage
to change or at least the courage to ask
for the willingness to ask for the courage to change.

The Lonely Bee

Individual bees cannot survive outside the colony. ~ Ross Boehler

All my life I've been the lonely bee,
separated from the hive...
after all, I didn't need them,
did I? I did so well on my own,
trying to lose weight, trying to be free,
trying to thrive. I tried using others,
getting help from them. After all,
I was nothing if not thorough in sources,
in programs, in plans to remake me.
The family doctor gave me diet pills at 13.
I tried most weigh-and-pay organizations,
some multiple times. Carb blockers.
Amphetamines. A metal pin
at an acupuncture point on my ear,
with instructions to massage it instead of eating.
Graphs and charts projecting loss by date,
with planned rewards. Internet programs.
A diet from a women’s magazine.
Counting calories. Counting carbs.
Counseling (3 times, years at a time).
Hypnotism. Motivational tapes.
New Year’s resolutions.
Goals for certain major events.
Diet books. Cookbooks with reduced
calories/fat/carbs/sugar. Books
directed at weight loss, organization,
codependency, relationships,
misogynists, self-esteem,
anything else marginally relative.
Partners in person and on the Internet.
Fasting one day each week.
Beginning to write a book
about how with a partner
I attained a total weight loss
of 500 pounds, tough I lacked
well over a hundred of those
before publication.
Giving myself shots in the stomach
twice daily... Insanity, I knew.
Then I found my group, my hive,
a community of understanding, of love,
of recovery. And in that environment
I thrived in the hive, giving up my life
as a fat lonely bee!

Suddenly

Funny. I look at the picture of cake, pie, cheesecake...
the spread laid out today at the Country Club...
and it actually doesn't look too tempting.
But try telling me that when it nabbed me at noon!
Not that I ate any, but just that it wasn't the same,
the routine desserts they set out each week I'm there.
And on the same table with the coffee!! It called my name
but I declined to accept, to yield. All I took from that table
were two cups of coffee and a picture. I emailed a friend,
told her temptation was yelling, planned this poem,
got to the point the speaker started and it was rude
to get up and grab a plate... and walked away to tell my tale.
Sometimes something suddenly calls. But though I'm compulsive,
though I'm a sugar addict, I have the ability to stop, to think,
and to do the next right thing.

Happy Meals

I knew what happy meals were!
Meat and vegetables weren't necessary.
If it consisted of one dessert after another
followed by three more, I was happy
with the meal. But that's been ruined for me.
I was asked to agree this week to the statement,
"Those sweet rolls look yummy, don't they?"
True answer was no! But I didn't say that.
I lied, answered yes knowing it was his answer
and that he would believe me lying if I told the truth.
It wasn't worth it. So I lied. A character defect,
the lies. I do it so well, used to do it to hide
my happy meals which would have included
buying both of the boxes of sweet rolls,
eating one in the car as I circled around,
taking enough time to finish them, to hide the box
at the recycle center in that trash can,
not ours. Then I would have claimed my half
of the one that got to the house. A happy meal.
But that's not what it means these days.
Two of the sweets remain on the cabinet,
have not called my name once. And the happy meals
are the three I've eaten today, appropriate
to my meal plan. These days I eat three happy meals
each day and don't mind who may see me do it!

Keep Coming Back

Keep coming back.
It works if you work it.
Keep coming back
to hear your own story.
Keep coming back.
Meeting makers make it.
Keep coming back
to hear those statements
meant for you.
Keep coming back
most of all when you don want to.
Keep coming back.
It works if you live it.

Dear Sarah,

It's taken a few years
to get ready to write you.
I had a few more fourth steps
to get through, more private
than the ones you and I did
when I came to your city.
I learned from those
restaurants that my ideas
of a heart-to-heart
didn't have to happen
for me to benefit from
admitting to you and God
the nature of my wrongs.
I'm sorry you didn't come
when we agreed
to get together that spring.
I talked to your friend there.
She said at the last minute
you chose not to come.
My heart hurt but I was busy
becoming involved in assembly
that very first time.
I've been to two a year
every year since then.
That would make thirteen.
I should have reported to you
after that, but I didn't...until now.
It took me this long to understand
how you sponsored me
is none of my business.
That my recovery is my job.
And I learned a great deal
from your sponsorship
about how to sponsor.

Premeditated Resentments

Expectations are premeditated resentments. ~ Lanaya

When I know what will happen,
borrow the trouble from next week,
next year, when Arron dies, when I retire…
When I know the future and have it planned
whether to my control or assume the worst,
the thing I dread will come true…
When what lies ahead is determined
at least in my mind, within my imagination…
then I worry about it as though it had passed
and the resentments are just as real
as those based on my past, not my imagined future.
And I know in my heart when I finally pause to think
that I'm as powerless over that future as over the past
and as over my life as it is right now, the only life
I have time to deal with, one day at a time,
asking for guidance and listening, not planning
future resentments.

I'm Not Taken

 Be yourself; everyone else is already taken. ~ Oscar Wilde

Imitation may be the most sincere flattery
but living a lie is a life of an actor, a pretender.
Codependency is a way of trying to live another's life,
to be so at his beck and call as to reside in his mind,
to lose the self in the other, in the dominant, in him.
But in so doing the codependent loses herself,
melds with him, becomes his hands, his robot, his servant.
When the me I see is so repugnant, so vile I cannot show it,
when I expect your ire, your hatred, your pity, your loathing
if you knew me as I know me, then I act as one I'd have you buy as me.
But it's all lies, untruths, not me. And if I would have peace,
if I would live honestly, if I can accept myself so I can believe
you might not only tolerate me but you could love me
as little as I may feel that deserved, then I find identity
in this unique person with special skills, with a calling unique,
with a purpose in life, and I know that I can be me
because I'm not taken.

Heart and Head

We learn to give our loving support to others freely (which is from our heart), without trying to advise people or change them (which is from our head). ~ Jhe T reading from and commenting on The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous, page 175

I came into OA having been church staff
in three congregations, with a master's degree,
having written literature for two denominations.
And the change I experienced I've always described
as my relationship with God moved in the first three steps
from my head to my heart, a move of earthshaking import.
But the migration is more than that, wider,  bolder…
affecting more than my relationship with God.
In the same way I tried to please God through reasoning,
manipulating, keeping up appearances, I have learned
responding to people from the heart, on an equal level,
letting them be and keeping my side of the street clean.
And it works as well with people as with God,
and in all relationships, I'm happier, healthier, and at ease.

 

What I Like about Me

My sponsor suggested that I make a list of the things I liked about myself. It was awkward and embarrassing and my list was very short, but it was a start. ~ Courage to Change, page 130

Well, okay, I said I would
and I've established the title,
let it lie fallow a few minutes
for a quick computer game
to give the ideas a while to grow.
But I've done those things
and inspiration hides in shadows,
ducks under the procrastination hedge,
ignores me. Avoids me. Evades me.
I could change the title, start over.
But it serves a purpose. There me to love.
But how? I'm glad I do these poems,
that three years later I haven't quit,
and some of them are inspired, actually good.
I like my books, feel like they're done well...
"seremity" excluded. Sigh. I don't like calling
the wrong name when I introduced the speaker
but I did well in getting her, in bring her to speak.
I like the state of equilibrium I feel, same-old,
same-old, and being at the meeting Wednesday
to hear that called serenity. I like that I do service,
that others like my service, feel it worthy.
I like that I can cross my legs, knee over knee,
even though Chris says it's bad for circulation.
I like fitting the clothes I wear, having them wear out,
not feeling like they've shrunk. I like the way I take time,
talk to folks, listen. I like that I'm not overly cocky
about all the things to like about me.
I like that I really know it's an abbreviated list,
that I could go on for a good long while,
and I like the way I've gotten to know me
so I can know what I like about this woman.

My Family of Choice

My Family of Choice

It's not that I don't choose

to love my blood family,

my extended family, my folks...

but where kin urge me to eat

that special food prepared with love

the family of choice encourages me

to remember nothing tastes as good
as abstinence feels.

While relatives would be aghast

at the food I've eaten from the trash,

stuffing it in out of sight, eating it all

so the remainder won't say it was there

the family of choice hears their own tale
when I tell mine, which I can there
for I know I'll be accepted.

There's love in both,
of that I have no doubt

but button pushing, guilt gifting,

the need to do it the way we always have

sets the two sides...
and my comfort level with them

on different planes.

Courage to Be Loved

It takes courage and willingness to receive such unconditional love and support. ~ Voices of Recovery (Kindle Locations 1476-1477)

Courage to love is real enough,
caring for those who have chosen
consciously and deliberately
to act with valor, to be heroic.
But courage to be loved?
How can that take courage?
It's not a deliberate act,
not a willful doing, not audacity,
not grit, not having sufficient moxie…
How can courage be required
to stand on the receiving side,
to be loved without having earned it,
without heroic acts to convince
not only the watchers but the doers
of the merit of those who act or don't...
Surely it is. Certainly bravery manifests
for those who have spent their lives
believing they have no merit, deserve nothing
except degradation, scorn, defeat.
Those who accept the gift of recovery,
who surrender and turn to power beyond themselves,
those who give up control and decide to live
stand with courage to accept those gifts
they never could have earned. Those who achieve
the courage to be loved.

If I Were Able

I I were able,

I would be svelte

or at least fashionable.

If I could do this

with willpower,

I'd have done it,

written the book
and told the world

how to succeed.

If I could have,

I would have,
freed from shame,
released from guilt.

But I couldn't.

I can't. But fortunately

I don't need to.

I received it all
as a gift for the taking.

Ask the Oracle

Some women are not meant to be gift-wrapped. ~ “Color Coding” by Susan Terris (http://bibliomancyoracle.tumblr.com/askoracle)

Why do I take that first compulsive bite?
A mystery to daunt any oracle.
So asked, I’m told Some women are not meant
to be git-wrapped. So the woman in it should be me?
The skeptical me would assume I’m not pretty,
can’t be made to be, have no need for frills
but will remain frumpy, lumpy, drawn to the bites…
Gift wrapping adds not just beauty, though.
It covers up. Hides. Makes undiscoverable.
Parts of me seem far better suited for being cloaked,
concealed. The fears, the resentments, jealousies…
They need to be covered over. But some women
are not meant to be gift-wrapped.
I’m as sick as my secrets and while I hide
skeletons in my closet,
I’ll use the tried, once-trusted behaviors.
I need to get rid of the wrapping, pretty or servicable,
and pull out the secrets beyond that place
where they solicit the taking of all the compulsive bites.

Things We Carry

Atlas carried not just the world

but the sphere of the heavens on his shoulders,
the prototype of recovery people.
We come believing the universe

our responsibility, the gods or God
in desperate need of our services.
We hear talk of surrender, of trust,
of a Power who can, who needs not our help
but our submission, our obedience,
our capitulation. And we balk.
We are responsible people
unwilling to allow the sky to fall.
So we hold our burden, devastated
by those who fail to render praise.
Until we don’t. Until we grasp the concept,
find a sprout of green we watch become hope.
And then we learn when we’re the water bearers
for God, when we do his bidding grand or small,
we carry not the weight of all matter
but the blessings of being one among many,
a soldier in a mighty army, holding high
the promises.

Who Are You — Who Am I?

(sijo)

tell me how it was for you, what life was like before
explain your suffering and pain, don't stop 'til you transform
describe yourself so I will learn how different I can be

This poem is the 1097th poem, one day at a time. In other words, today begins the fourth year of Recovery Daily Dose. The blog was started for all the wrong reasons, though honorable…to sell the books authored by Barbara B. Rollins and/or OAStepper. But the result has been nothing but marvelous for the personal growth of Barbara and Stepper. It's made no obvious difference in book sales. Isn't that an odd blessing? Thank you for walking this road to recovery one day at a time.

---

My Conception of God

(a triversen)

My higher power
does not have religion,
has no need to worship.

The power can identify
as male or female
or both or neither.

A jealous deity
is anathema
but god wants exclusivity.

Jealousy would look like
dictating mandatory beliefs
as baseline necessity.

Acceptance is god
and equals agape love
which means endless hugs.

But that's just my god
I'm talking about here
and yours is up to you.

Calling It a Day

One day at a time. 

Don't dredge up yesterday,

don't borrow from tomorrow.

One day begun by looking

at what's scheduled,

by stopping at the beginning

seeking guidance, asking willingness,

surrendering. A day spent

doing the next right thing,

using tools, keeping abstinent,

living in the present,

sweeping your own street

and leaving others' business to them.

A day concluded by looking back,

analyzing the day, making amends

if any are needed. A day spent in peace

no matter what happens all around,

and calling that day finished,

beginning again the next day

to have a day that at the end

you can call a good day.

Goodbye, Buffet

When "all you can eat"

feels like a challenge, a dare,

a commitment to gorge on,

stuff down, try it all…

When you feel that value

requires you to make a hole

noticeable in the feast set out,

a deep one, meaningful,

memorable…

When you cannot leave

without stomach pain,

without nearing a comatose state,

gluttony brought to new height…

Then it;s time for you to bid adieu

to the establishment and eat

where you can consume

wisely and well.