Sometimes sobriety means trudging in spite of feelings.
I checked out some fine blogs this morning in lieu of doing "useful things." Syd and Vicariousrising gave me lots of thoughtful moments.
My publisher canceled an assignment. I almost throttled my pet kittens. My Joe brought me a cuppa joe from Starbucks. I wrote a poem last night that I don't quite understand. I'm having difficulty sleeping. Yawn.
Things that are great: Eight of us women in recovery took a meeting yesterday to an alcoholic detoxing from a barbiturate addiction, and it was a beautiful meeting.
I took a sponsee to the beach and we looked at art, did her eighth step on the sand, ate oysters sober, and took in an open-mike poetry reading. My poem, "Codeine," drew laughter, much appreciated.
I haven't had a drink today, for many days, in fact.
My Joe and I work our program at home, and our marriage is a blessing.
Life is like a salad. There is all that scrumptious stuff plus the occasional stupid garbanzo bean and bitter raddiccio. I'm selecting a photo for this post that I took of a woman preparing a salad for the daily lunch her church serves the homeless.
I have too much to be thankful for to list. And I'm listless today, anyway.
I found Monkey Man's Sunday 160 challenge the other day. It's an ancronymical work, worth a yuck:
Damned if it is a measure of your worth that
U have more tchotchkes than books
Stultifying on your shelves, a reminder
That everything arises and returns to it.
I think I'll tear myself away from here and hit a meeting. It's attitude adjustment time.
But first here is my ode of sorts to the angry, sad contradiction the addict feels when doing drugs and trying to pray to a Higher Power. Using and praying are a strange juxtaposition. I drank and prayed so many times before I found Alcoholics Anonymous. Willingness and surrender were the keys. What a life I have been saved from!
Thanks for listening.
Lord High God
(I prayed this prayer)
May we all be blessed on this day, with your peace, which passes all understanding
(This was to make him
feel good about himself
quoting his own words to him
as if they had meaning)
On this gloomy day, may we see the green hills, the chariots of clouds in the sky, the flowering trees, the golden trumpets of the daffodils, and as we see them, may we be filled with praise instead of snarly negativity.
(I was feeling bitchy
and I really choked up
on the “chariots of clouds” line
so I knew this one
was a really good one)
You are the Lord of the great clouds, you are the Great I Am, You are our precious Brother and Master and Friend.
(I think he likes
to be noodled with
this excessive naming
so I included it)
Forgive me for my poor attitude. Forgive me for the one dark blot, my soul’s dark spot, which you are cleansing not.
Honesty is always
the best policy. My aunt
says she has a healthy fear
of him and so should I)
Turn our agitation into constructive action, so that we may feel the glorious feelings that come with doing a good job with talent and grace. May we be a blessing to others we encounter today, and thank you for the blessing of medication
(I had dropped
three codeine tabs
and they were
taking effect, if
you know what I mean.
scare me & it
Chris Alba (c) 2009