The Path to New

Where people are on their own and live by their own devices, there is only the old, the past. Only where God is can there be a new beginning. We cannot command God to grant it: we can only pray to God for it. ~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer, I Want to Live These Days with You: A Year of Daily Devotions (p. 2)

The past I know, lived, have declined. 
I've tried that, know it to be living death,
have turned away, turned to the new.
I can see the new, observe it in others,
grasp the power it possesses, the joy it holds.
I can desire that, yearn for that, demand that,
but that does no good. I cannot earn it,
barter for it, inherit it, claim it as my right.
God does not grant it to me on my command,
for that act of commanding is proclaiming myself
to be the power, have the power, wield the power.
But I am not power, have no power, wield no.
The Power that can, though, has no intention
to deny me this prize. Rather, that Power 
waits patiently for me to ask, to submit, 
to yield my puny power which is no power,
to accept the great gift the Power has for me.

Unlearned

With hindsight, I can see that my mother passed her overwhelming fears and insecurities on to me in my childhood. The good news is that fear is learned; therefore, it can be unlearned. ~ Overeaters Anonymous, Third Edition (Kindle Locations 1513-1514)

Fear is learned. Can that be true?
It's so ubiquitous, so global,
such an innate part of me.
Fear is me. I am fear.
This short word
somehow touches
about every aspect of our lives.
It was an evil and corroding thread;
the fabric of our existence
was shot through with it.
It set in motion
trains of circumstances,
which brought us misfortune
we felt we didn’t deserve.
But did not we, ourselves,
set the ball rolling?*What freedom rests in the idea
that fear is learned,
so we can erase the acquisition,
abandon the burden,
walk away from it.
Good grief, I'm ready.
Take it away, God,
take it away.

* Alcoholics Anonymous (Kindle Locations 1290-1293).

 

Keep Fighting

You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it. ~ Margaret Thatcher

Impatient. That's me. If I finally get around to doing it
it darned sure should be done, should be finished,
should be perfected, the best there ever was,
the end all and be all, the battle won. But all too often...
I find myself in the midst of battle, that same one,
a different one, a similar one, an even more aggressive foe
and I find myself reluctant to fight, for I have fought. I fit it.
Couldn't resist that. It's the rebellion in me, Mother's voice
yelling at me the proper English, but I resist. I procrastinate.
I find myself back at the starting line, one so similar,
it might as well, might be, the same darned place.
Impatient. That's me. If I finally get around to doing it
it darned sure should be done, should be finished,
should be perfected, the best there ever was,
the end all and be all, the battle won. But all too often...
I find myself in the midst of battle, that same one,
a different one, a similar one, an even more aggressive foe
and I find myself reluctant to fight, for I have fought. I fit it.
Couldn't resist that. It's the rebellion in me, Mother's voice
yelling at me the proper English, but I resist. I procrastinate.
I find myself back at the starting line, one so similar,
it might as well, might be, the same darned place.

Patient. That's my higher power, my god. My model.
He waited patiently for me to try, to do, to do again,
to get sidetracked, to right myself, to give up...
He knew. He knows for today, tomorrow, 2932
and years after that. But the difference is, he wins.
After I have worried that bone line a restless hound,
he wins. And he takes me with him
to the finish line and the glory beyond.

 

Desire First

The “old-self,” described in Romans 6, 7 and 8, is an inherited animalistic bias of selfishness, based in survival instinct. Its origin is a feature given by God in your physical life (Eve “desired” before she sinned). ~ Jo Helen Cox in GOD MAKES US HOLY manuscript

Desire first. Is that how it works?
When I mess up, do I desire it 
before I follow through? 
It doesn't feel that way. 
It feels like an obsession.
Okay, it is an obsession
but I can go for months,
for long times without the pull
and then it's there, a raving maniac,
an act that seems to happen
with no preface. But there is one.
It may be desire,
but not really for the sweets.
It's a desire for acceptance,
for peace, for self-confidence,
for fitting in. That's the desire.
But you can't buy peace
like you can a fritter.

My Inane Solutions

God knows all my problems, pains, and fears and the inane solutions I often plot in my mind. ~ Voices of Recovery January 26

God already knows.
I can't fool him.
I'm darned good a lying
but he's darned good
at knowing when I do...
lot's better than I am.
But you know, that's freeing.
Because I can't fool him
I need not try,
need not explain,
can't rationalize my way out.
All I can do is talk.
Or not. He knows what I would say
even when I don't have a clue.
Maybe it's better when I don't offer
my solutions, my ideas, my plans.
It's time to listen to him, huh?

Thank You

If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it's enough. ~ Meister Eckhart

Teach me to pray, an age-old request.
We've plenty of sample prayers,
fine to memorize and recite, even to read.
And they can say what we want to say.
But they're not original material,
not my prayers, but someone else's
and I can't claim them, can't rest
on those laurels. I have to do my stuff.
But if I don't know how, if I don't know what,
if I can't come up with words
my normal response is not to.
Not to try, not to learn,
not to pray. But then again
there's a prayer that's original,
unique, meaningful for me
here and now, and that's to say thanks,
to express my gratitude, to be appreciative.
Thank you, God, for teaching me
how to pray.

That Mysterious Off Switch

but I seem to be missing that mysterious off switch that makes people say, 'That's too sweet!' or 'I can't eat all that.' ~ Miranda O

Where is my off switch? Am I a mutant,
lacking vital parts? Why don't I function that way?
People seem so weird! The things they say!
How the heck can anything
be too sweet? How do you leave it on the table,
maybe nibble a bite, and never think of it.
Oh, not touching I understand. But even then
the cravings, the obsession, the sense of entitlement
should blossom, bloom, control!
Is it really possible for anybody,
actually, to be just too full for another bite?
But more important, if these folks have a switch,
something always there, allowing them to stop
despite there being more, and nobody looking,
is there some such switch permitting them
to turn food down, to walk away?
If there is such a switch, I want it.

But really, I understand.
It exists, but not for me.
I am a compulsive overeater,
and I'm powerless over food
and my life's unmanageable.

Please Be My Sugar Daddy

God, my friend bartered with you,
wanted to get a small cola,
told you she didn't have to have
a twenty ounce. Said you told her
she had a doctor's visit hours later,
that test results then would lie.
She whined, angry, told you then,
"Well, zap this congestion then!"
And you did. I talked to her a day later,
she said her sinuses, her blockage – clear.
God, I believe. Help my unbelief. 
Colas don't call me, nor do chips, popcorn...
most junk food I'm okay, can take or leave.
But the sugar. Oh, the sugar. My downfall.
But you can help me, like you helped her.
God, would you please be my sugar daddy
and fix me when I would yield?
Can you talk me out of foolish notions
that getting an apple fritter
will fill the time before I need to go somewhere?
That eating that sweet left, forgotten,
abandoned in my kitchen by those who wanted it
is not really a better option that tossing it?
That nothing tastes as good as abstinence feels?
Would you be my sugar daddy, please?

Keep This in Mind

If you have decided you want we have and are willing to go to any length to get it -- then you are ready to take certain steps. ~ Alcoholics Anonymous, page 58

I want abstinence.
I want the benefits,
all of them...
I came for the weight loss
but I stay for that but more
for I know that's an extra bonus,

that serenity, freedom from fear,
banished resentments,
a sense of hope, of love, 
of possibilities...These I crave.
And I can have them, free for the taking
if I finally understand the implications
of that phrase "go to any length..."
and when I can't obtain the prize
I simply ask myself,
To what length am I unwilling to go? 

If You Want a Finish Line

You can't have a finish line without a start line. ~ Marty Torsey

One of these days I'll write those books,
the ones about women judges
that grew from a proposal to a publisher
twenty years ago. Maybe this year.
I've got them named. The series?
She Who Must Be Obeyed.The three books? Texas Women's
Legal History Before It Began.
On the Record (the "courts of record,"
kind of beginning with Sarah T. Hughes
in 1935. The third? The Wild Women.
Boy, the stories I can tell about them.
Oh, but I just know the titles.
Drafts of the books are at least ten years old.
But I might publish this year. If I get started,
and of course, if I get finished.

All my life I've had plans. To stop procrastinating,
to write whatever book comes to mind,
to lose the weight, to organize the house,
to strip the fourth piece of the set I refinished
twenty years ago. I can dream, can't I?

Lord, I want to be a Christian, in-a my heart,
in-a my heart. I would love to reach
a healthy body weight. Someday I will.
I've got a bad case of the want to's. 
But first, I guess I should start something
I want to finish. 

The Other Twelve Steps

Alcoholics Anonymous,
Gamblers, Cocaine, Narcotics,
Sexaholics -- so many programs!
It's always good to gather together,
sharing the steps, the traditions,
the recovery. But we
in Overeaters Anonymous
just want to call your attention
to a little matter. Since the Big Book
was published advising chocolate
for a man in his cravings,
you've been generous with the sweets
but don't seem to remember
it's an addiction, too.

 

A Layer of Protection

Who would intentionally

take the brunt of nature
exposed to cold, to rain,
to wind, to blistering sun?
Who would set themselves up
to be pelted by temptation,
by destructive emotions,
by doubt and guilt?
Like a coat, an umbrella,
heavy boots, wide hats,
a roof over your head.
Protection from life's fears
comes from wrapping in prayer,
warming around the fire of love
and basking in warmth
wrapped in the blanket of recovery.

Washing the Spirit

You add water baptism, a communal act that wets the skin but washes the spirit. ~ Jo Helen Cox, manuscript of GOD MAKES US HOLY: A SIMPLE GUIDE TO REDEMPTION, REGENERATION, AND SANCTIFICATION

How dusty is your spirit?
When did you last clean it,
buff it up, consider it?
How can you wash your spirit?
A retreat with recovery people?
One of those meetings that sizzles,
sparkles, leaves everyone tingling?
A walk in nature, a quiet time
surrounded by music, by aromas,
by majesty? Surrounding yourself
with loving people, perhaps by being one?
By taking time for the eternal,
the internal, the inherently good.
By loving yourself, by letting others love in,
by cleansing thoughts, actions, habits.
By living in serenity, surrounded by peace.

Follow the Leader

God’s Spirit teaches you to play follow-the-leader. ~ Jo Helen Cox in manuscript of GOD MAKES US HOLY: A SIMPLE GUIDE TO REDEMPTION, REGENERATION, AND SANCTIFICATION

It's like a child's game...anyone can do it.
It's not some physics problem only a few get,
not something taking years of practice,
constant improvement, diligent retention
of skills attained. It's as simple, as fun,
as intuitive as follow the leader...
not even as complicated as Mother, May I?
when you must remember the rules,
not just do as  you're told. No, it's easy,
as simple as doing what you're shown,
copying, letting the Power take the lead.
And the results are marvelous! Freedom,
growth, release, a promise of more to come,
of continued joy when you simply say,
"Not my will but yours be done."

Catastrophysing

Then I get into catastrophysing. ~ Lesa

What's a catastrophe? Well, it depends.
On who you are, on what day it is,
on who riled you in the last ten minutes...
or seventeen years ago and for some reason
you're stuck in reliving that, in reviving the defeat,
in wallowing in the embarrassment again today.
To put it simply most of the time it's not
an event causing great and often sudden damage,
a disaster.

More important to your sanity, though,
is what is not a catastrophe. It's not an irritation
in the normal course of life when you're diligent
in staying on your side of the street, in declining to rescue
all those around who couldn't possibly manage
absent your assistance. It's not an unkind remark
when you can remember that he's another sick person,
stuck in his illness, and his comments – especially about you —
are none of your business. A catastrophe is not
what happens when you work your program,
use the tools, get to meetings, meditate,
and do service. Those days you don't have time
to manufacture a catastrophe.

Illegal Food

I ate food like it was against the law. ~ Sasha

Eating on the sly, hiding the evidence,
lying about it, having a cover story,
avoiding those noisy clerks
who figure out how often you come...
going from store to store
so nobody knows the quantity,
the redundancy, the decadence,
the prevarication, the deception,
the fiction to put to shame
the top ten best selling novels...
Eating like a criminal because it's wrong,
it's addiction, it's as detrimental as those
whose cravings really are illegal,
who can go to jail with bars
not just the jail that is the carful of debris,
the furtive trips to dumpsters
to protect the awful truth.
I eat like I'm a criminal
and the food is the loot,
the pillage, the ill-gotten gain.

The Three-Legged Stool

I never milked a cow
but at times have sat
on a three-legged stool.
As sturdy as they are
a sawed-off leg is danger,
even just shaved a bit.
For years my wobbly leg
was physical, and I knew
if that were repaired I'd thrive.
But when it began to even
I found the mental leg
assaulted with sick thinking,
with believing myself better,
worst, the "...est"
whether that was best or worst.
When I finally learned
I wasn't on a ladder
even with none, above most,
below a few I worshipped,
envied, hated for their perfection.
The mental leg no longer
stood as the weakest of the stool.
But that spiritual tool...
I knew the Bible, church history,
had been church staff
in three congregations,
but my spiritual leg wobbled
until I came to believe.
And with that the legs evened out
and I was a whole person
all three parts of me
together again.

 

Yellow

Call me yellow. A coward I am,
though I can talk the talk 
and spin a line. I've bluffed
and hidden, pretended
my whole life long
and know myself a weakling,
a failure, devoid of will-power,
crushed to a pulp by life.

Color me yellow, the color of light.
I found a path of peace
lined with blossoms,
a place where serenity dwells,
where cares drift away
and fears spin out of sight.
A power greater than I
offers a hand up, a lifeline...hope.

Life will not crush me
no matter the weight
of tragedy, of grief, of gloom.
Accompanied now, I bloom.

Supermarket Stop

I never thought I'd be here.

I've always imagined 
the Golden Gate Bridge,
the trolleys, Alcatraz.

But to have a must do

stop at a supermarket

to get the food I need 
to stay true to my food plan?
Who would ever have imagined!

photo by Ryan J. Wilmot

The Old Man

Twenty years ago I had no hope,

entombed in addiction, frail of body,

devoid of friendship, spiritually bankrupt,

an old man at the end of my rope

at forty.

Today I live hope, radiate possibility,

have not yielded to my addiction in years.

My body runs races, my friends circle the globe,

my spirit soars to serenity, to exultation, to glory

unimaginable those long years ago.

I'm glad I can offer a life-saving rope

to those old men who I used to be.

Thank You, No

Mother, you see my misery,

my inability to lose weight,

to live a normal life
and you want to tell me,
to show me, what worked

when you were there.

I can see you've changed,

you're different, but it's your way,

not mine. I have analyzed

the steps, thought them through
and I'm not willing to yield

to some power greater than me.

Leave your arguments,

your explanations.
Don't you understand

a prophet is without honor

in her own family?

 

Puce!

One day long ago

(The forty-third day

of 1998, precisely)

I was asked to explain

my essence by color.

Immediately I knew...

I was gray, neither black

nor white, but gray, safe.

Somber, solemn, resting, 

monotone gray. 

I moved in slow motion, 

unseen, unseeing, unseeking. 

What was background, static, 

stable was best. 

What was moving, growing, 

striving was to be disdained. 

Neither death nor life, 

neither breath nor coldness, 

I remained, unchanged, unchanging, 

unnoticed. I was safe.

"Wow!" I wrote. "Gray is safe?

That's what I mean. That's what I feel."

I wanted to be something different,

something anything-but-gray.

I knew the word puce 

though I looked for puese.

And I chose to be puce, experimenting

with pen colors, typing in puce,

getting puce nail polish and lipstick,

looking for puce clothes...

It has taken years, and my company

Silver Boomer Books went along with me

with puce as a logo color, our color.

I don't know that I've achieved puce

but I know I left gray in the dust!

Feelings

What feelings have been given to me that don't belong to me? ~ Glenn Beck

What feelings have been given me?
Then I can sort out which don't belong.
Guilt. Is guilt a feeling. I feel guilty
listing guilt as a feeling. But then again,
I feel guilty about a lot of stuff.
Who gave me guilt? Anybody who ever told me
I didn't do something well enough,
but then again, anyone who ever told me
how well I did since I knew they knew nothing,
that I wasn't nearly as good as they thought.

What feelings have been given me?
Embarrassment about the way I dress,
about the way I wear my hair,
about biting my fingernails and when I stopped
about pulling them off, never growing them
to the point they might look nice.
Embarrassment about not knowing
how to answer a hairdresser when asked
how I want my hair. Embarrassment
that I was too busy with other things
to be a normal teenage girl and learn that stuff.

What feeling have been given me?
Worthlessness for not having done, in advance,
without notice, what you wanted me to do for you.
Worthlessness for thinking I might meet my needs
when you have something you expect me to do
whether I know about it or not. 
Worthlessness for believing I might deserve
more than the bare minimum, even one twit more
than owned by anyone else in the world.

What feelings have been given me?
Humiliated by not being good enough, pretty enough,
attractive enough, worthy enough for your touch,
your embrace, your caress, your affection
for if you don't give it to me often, openly,
with great desire and need to bestow it
then surely it's all because of me
any you have no part in it at all.

What feelings don't belong to me?
Those I have not earned, those that derive
from low self-esteem, those that meet no goal...
those I adopt from a misguided picture of the world
and my place in it.

Be sure you see the name tag...

Climbing a Rope

We cannot climb up a rope that is attached only to our own belt. ~ William Ernest Hocking

Powerless. Unable to manage. 
I'm fiercely independent,
want to shout in my little me voice,
"I can do it by myself!!"
but it's been sixty-five years
since that was cute if it ever was.
I don't want your help.
My nature is to turn it down...
so bear with me. I can do lots,
but I can't do it all. 
And when I'm dumb enough
to try to climb up a rope
when all I have it tethered to is me
then help me, please.
Teach me I can't do it myself,
let me understand finally
those first step clauses
and finally truly know
I'm powerless over food
and my life is unmanageable.

Courage Is Never Wasted

Courage is never wasted. ~ Rush Limbaugh

You go out on a limb, 
feel like a fool, humiliated, 
miserable. You want to hide, 
bury your head, wear a disguise, 
change your name...
But your courage was not wasted, 
couldn't be, served its purpose. 
Maybe it was to pride you
to know how it feels, to move
in the right direction, to trust
your higher power, to understand
You live through the process. 
Maybe it was to serve as a model, 
to inspire sometime else, 
to mark the path. 
Maybe it was that you just don't see
results you set in motion, 
that the intended result needs time, 
an opportunity to germinate, 
a chance to attract like minds.
Courage is never wasted. 
It can be, often is, 
a triumph of and my itself.

That Thirty-Day Chip

Recognition awaits,

adulation for days

strung together,
for a month of eating
according to plan.

But as the day nears

the feeling of pride

shifts to embarrassment,

knowing how weak,

how unworthy I am.

And temptation looms large
suggesting old ways

and without a sane thought

necessity demands
the thirty day wait

begin once again.

No Scolding, No Weigh-Ins

They are neither judged nor scolded. There are no weigh-ins. They can share their past experiences, their present problems, and their hopes for the future with those who understand and support them and who speak their own language. ~ Overeaters Anonymous, Third Edition (Kindle Locations 2579-2581)

Welcome to tomorrow,
freedom from judgment,
from being singled out,
from getting a sticker
for losing a quarter pound
for the seventeenth time.
Welcome to recovery,
to sanity, to serenity,
to a program who welcomes all
who want to recover from eating
compulsively. Welcome to sharing,
to stories that could have come
from your own mouth.
Welcome to the loving arms
of the people who will become
your family of choice.
Welcome to Overeaters Anonymous.
Welcome home.

Defiant Individuality

Hence, one no longer needs to maintain a defiant individuality but can live in peace and harmony with the environment, sharing and participating freely, especially with other members of the group. ~ Overeaters Anonymous, Third Edition (Kindle Locations 2550-2551).

Defiant individuality. Was that ever really me?
Openly resisting, boldly disobeying,
the call to be like others. Seeing myself
as a separate existence. Yes. If by separate
I mean lonely, isolated, understood by nobody,
on my own and hated by the world,
a hatred I returned. If by existence I mean
living in a vegetative state, self-medicating with food,
remaining virtually always in a food fog
where feelings could not be felt, words could not penetrate
(oh, but they did, so painfully, so hurtfully, so damaging!)
a state of being around but being so stagnant,
so burnt out, so bummed...

I recall saying, aloud, earnestly, that other people 
considered me their friend but I had no friend.
I had no merit, nothing to offer a friendship,
nothing to contribute to a person, to society, to the world...

I had, if nothing else, defiant individualism.
But I need it no more. I have peace, harmony with the world,
can share and participate freely, have my group...
that starts on Wednesday mornings but spreads way past that...
throughout the state, to Louisiana, to all of Region Three
and to the whole wide world. I'm an individual.
But I have a family of my choosing, those I know
and those I've yet to meet, who make wherever I am
home.

 

To Live Free of the Bondage

Clearly, if we are to live free of the bondage of compulsive eating, we must abstain from all foods and eating behaviors which cause us problems. ~ The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous (Kindle Locations 76-77)

Abstain. Such a final, decisive, absolute word.
Restrain oneself from doing or enjoying something.
Wait a minute! Restrain yourself from enjoying it??? 
My favorite food? But when you surrender,
when you turn it over, then that actually happens.
You can try the food and it's too sweet, too crisp,
lackluster, something that cannot live up to your memories...
Clearly when you surrender to a power greater than you
then you're not in charge and you will be given
abstinence. From doing it and, if you really trust,
if you don't take back the surrender, you'll be given
that great gift...you'll no longer enjoy what was your passion
for your passion has moved on, has reached a proper recipient.

Peace in Conflict Resolution

(The topic, title, was used at Rotary Day at the United Nations as a theme.)

And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
    "For hate is strong,
    And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!" (Longfellow)

Hate is strong and mocks the song of peace.
An eternal truth, it seems. In the world.
Between nations. Among races, groups, societies.
In families. Yet peace is to be found...
it is the song of peace, resonating after the joy,
the festivities. Peace can be found in families
long tattered, ragged, shredded.
Peace is the goal, but peace is the process.
A calm voice, a caring heart, a serenity within
and each of us can be a peacemaker. In he world.
In the nation. In the home.

Anew

The Chinese new year begins February 19 this year.
Muslim new year falls on the fifteenth of October. 
Eastern Orthodox celebrate new year in a couple of weeks.
What makes today special, new, momentous?
Tradition. Habit. The Gregorian calendar...
meaning it's new year because in 1582
Pope Gregory XIII straightened out a mess,
tossed out ten days in some countries,
left others on the old system up until
a hundred years ago. January 1st is just a day.
And yet, it's new. A new year. A momentous day.
It's a day of starting anew. But so is tomorrow.
And the next day. We're not limited to one day,
to Resolutions, made now, forgotten tomorrow,
renewed next year's January 1st. 
We have today. It doesn't matter the date.
Each day we have today. What we really have 
is a daily reprieve contingent on the maintenance
of our spiritual condition.