Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 11




T before S


When happiness is hard work I have to learn to look for the lie. There must be a lie for happiness flows unrestrained when not dammed. What was built too far up river for me to see, dries out my once liquid existence; leaving me to flounder in the shallows. I can’t allow myself to flop in the muck of waters muddied with deceit. I will permit myself to look for clear bright prospects from melting glaciers and accustom myself to the invigoration of a life lived under a loving watchful eye.






Keep water near by

*

KILLER SQUIRRELS
AND OTHER SOBER DRAMA

I can tell you stories to make your hair curl.
Death defying fifth steps,
Speaking commitments with microphoned podiums,
Sponsees with killer squirrels trapped in the house.

The courage and sheer determination
Needed to face plague, after crisis, after pestilence
And yet sober mind and willing heart these travails
Are surmounted and we live on.

Tears turn to laughter with rescue and remedy
How strong we feel as the cape is passed
When one time panic prone sponsees
Become the model of calm and stable sponsors.

Hoards of relatives at holidays,
Interaction with bankers, police officers
And all manner of people in shiny shoes
Are handled with grace and boundaries.

Porch loving skunks, children becoming teenagers,
Are faced with humor and wit.
Things which in years gone by would have sent us screaming
To the phone are now casual asides during after meeting discussion.

Life does keep spinning on
But we learn how to stand still.

[Tommi]

Happy 24th Anniversary
Sherrie T.

Congratulations for having 24 years of sobriety, 24 hours a day for 8,766 days. I am thankful that you listened to the committee in your head, and turned those one days into a written journey of inspiration, hope and sharing what you have, for those that come to read here, and in other threads and books, around the world. Thank you for keeping the light on in so many places every single day as part of your service. Having met your sponsees, and knowing the integrity and program you model for them, as their sponsor I can say, you are what Bill and Bob said a meeting is all about..



You are incredible and I am glad to have been on this journey with you for so many many years. Reading your work every morning, before I ever met you, I know that you saved my life and I am sure many others, and never even knew it. It has been an honor to accompany you to speaking engagements around the country, and see and hear the gift you give back so willingly and the fires you light in those that want what you have Sherrie T. Congratulations on 24 years.


And as they say, a Picture is Worth a Thousand Words....and Amazon.com has all 31 or so books. Just a small reminder of what you have given us all.










Love and best wishes for many more, One Day at a Time, may the journey continue
Tommi P.

[StillettoDoll]

Thank you Sherri!
For all your insight , I much enjoy your writings, I look forward to them everyday. I am so glad to know someone so talented.
Happy 24th!
Hugs
Doll

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 12




Seen on the Street


Sometimes graffiti improves a place, other times it degrades it. I now wonder; is this defined by the breaking or breaching of public norms? Or is it built from the intent of the artist/perpetrator? Possibly the pedestrian traffic or the light of day determine the difference between art and recalcitrance. What if all these factors flashing like a neon kaleidoscope facilitated what this all really means? What if it all signifies nothing other than yet another way for me to entertain my brain while avoiding work? I guess I better get back to the spray cans I have a wall to cover.




Open your mind to unusual collaboration
*



THE TEAM

The dream sobriety I envision,
The fantasy recovery I mentally construct,
Blows out to sea as so much mist
In the face of actual life.

Setting out sports teams, which don’t exist
Is playful and entertaining.
Trying to rebuild the principals of the program
Is a delusion I can drink over.

Finessing my network and pretending I can put together a team
On a basis of specialized talents instead of ground level willingness
Is like designing a plane without regard to physics
Playing only to esthetics.

Anytime I am redesigning
I must realize I am no longer participating
If I keep my head in the game
I can stay away from statistics and stop planning outcomes.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 13



Phillips Head


What’s stuck in makes the thing. What sticks out is all that’s seen. I can tell so much from what is left out, yet there is much I will never know, can never tell. The twist, the give, the opening to variation is known, but never acknowledged. Somehow indecent if spoken or thought of too loudly, insinuation is ignored and society allows us to focus on what is held after or due to this act. We have built the whole world on what we can screw together, but we will merely hallow this, never embrace the fact until it falls apart. Then we exclaim over the rawness of how it caused us to be turned around, the risk and wrongness, ignoring just how much good can come from just a simple screw.





Acknowledge rain clouds as puddles on lay-away

*

MEETING INVENTORY

The manicurist at the meeting sits and does her nails.
The discussion goes on around her as she files away.
Cell phones go off for people
Who can’t put their lives on hold for their sobriety.

The knitter knits.
And the dissenters dissent.
The chatting chickens and grumbling grouse
All these populate the meeting.

It has taken the first half of the hour
To take everyone else’s inventory.
I have the remaining thirty to take my own.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 14




Participant Observer


Underneath it all I am more than naked; I am hidden by exposure. My body can never be as nude as life with you in my thoughts. My mind is a polygraph you wander through. I have determined this is more than safe and unlock the closets. You are not my warden looking for contraband, nor the janitor looking for trash, you are here; you are my friend having a better look around simply to know me better and to love me well. Your unfamiliar stride is exciting, I show off the places I long for you to see and stand aside from the rest; it is all yours to look through. I do not resist. You are my peaceful guardian; I am your willing charge.







Sit with impatience and sooth it

*

CAMPAIGN

Sobriety is the Santa Clause that brings delightful gifts
Which make me smile.
Recovery is the Gene
Which comes from staying out of bottles.
The Jin makes treasure possible
But doesn’t bring it to the door.

The ads and billboards of illusion built a world of booze
But no hope for a real life.
I have learned to turn from all the lies of picking up
And live in the possibilities which open
Only when I put down the drink and the thinking.

I don’t need to pin up stockings
Or rub lamps, just take direction
And make willingness my campaign.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 15



The Dark Fantastic


When the tornado touches down worry ends; the anticipation is over and thought stops. Tragedy is funny that way. In the aftermath I find out what mattered and what didn’t; whether I have helped or injured myself trying to plan for the worst. I fail to realize there are cloud filled days when nothing happens and days when trouble comes from out of the blue. What matters ultimately is if I was happy yesterday all the way into today until the thunder struck. Greed is not: living for today; greed is my attempt at gathering the future while dragging the past.






Compel your brilliance to shine

*


AUTUMN

The falling leaves slap my hand
As I ride the road at fifty mile per
My arm dangling.

Exposed they stand stark,
Stripped naked to the soul.
The growth of this years yearnings on the fringe.

I can follow this lead
Remove pretence not clothing
Stand before all who have an interest in seeing me.

Unashamed of my wants and the things I reach for
I can cast off the uniform of evolution
And enjoy a long winter of truth.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 16



Single Serving Sterling


When the menu of life feels vast I must focus on my teaspoon; a simple tool that fits well in my hand, whose use I well understand. The possibilities conceived when I ponder the intangibles conspire to suck me down the rabbit-hole where all that’s left to me is a drug. When I come back to stir my tea and lick the spoon clean the world revolves around me and without need of my completed unified theory. Need looms, loss stacks, salvation keeps a steady distance, my only hope is to drink my tea, I shan’t even sharpen my spoon; I can and need to stay out of my fear built prison and off the streets of hell. My task is at hand and the size of the scoop is a reminder to take all of life in small doses.




Treat hope as a living thing; feed its hunger, quench its thirst

*


NATURAL LAW

Gravity is always in effect
But invoke the laws of lift
And you can make a stone fly.

I have no gills
But strap on a tank and rebreather
And I can share space with the sharks.

Given enough willingness and step work
I can walk through the world sober
Though every cell of my body is alcoholic.

The laws of nature are fluid
When I flow with them I can keep my goals.
Instant gratification is often my stumbling block.

Gaining access to my far-flung desires
Is not impossible
But it is also not immediate.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 17


Go where it’s warm



The intangible rightness of cohesion is difficult to explain. What is it that makes a group congregating into a congregation? What makes a rag tag tousle into a home group? It is the thing I yearn for, but dare not chase. I know this too makes a grub into a butterfly, yet private transformation seems necessary, where the change of masses is gratuitous. A thousand geese fly overhead; arrows of individual miracles, pointing the way to the meaning of it all.







Score your rhythm so you can reflect the music of your soul

*

THE DREAMER

What about the dreamer?
What about her, responds my sponsor.
You ask me about her like I was the one
Who pushed her off the cliff.

Are you saying I pushed her,
I questioned my sponsor.
Yes, that is just what I am saying.
Do you need me to sing it?

You wanted the dreamer to fly off,
To safety and happiness
And wanted her to take you with her.
In an attempt to grab hold of her ankles
And propel her to heaven
You threw her off the precipice.

Now she is broken and bleeding
Far from your sight
Your dreamer is damaged
And you ask about her?

Do you want to know what you did
And how to remedy it
Or were you looking to duck responsibility?

QUACK------

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 18



Blind Man’s Bluff



Turning your head to see doesn’t help when you have a blind eye. All the rotation in the world won’t restore your sight. Addressing life problems with a solution involving spin is counter productive and sometimes counter clockwise to boot. If I find I just can’t see, then maybe it’s time to listen better and compensate for my shortcoming through some other action. Turning away doesn’t help and walking away is worse. When I am blind in one eye and can’t see out of the other stepping up to the plate may not be an option, but I still need to find a way to stay in the game.






Molt bad ideas
*


PUBLIC PRIVACY

My public privacy is protected
By my smile not my scowl.
Maintaining boundaries as I travel
The common areas of life
Is more readily accomplished
By a pleasant demeanor than a dark stare.

I have used negative attitude
And found myself outside of my own protection.
The buoyancy of my manner keeps surface tension
A natural and acceptable reality.
Hooded behavior drags every interaction
Into suspicion.

When I make part of my business
To put others at ease
It is easier for me to preserve
My business as my own.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 19



Endlessly Moving Maps


I try to survive by memorizing the chaos. I do well up to five layers deep and then lose it, as the details become too great. I am staking my life on my ability to track the patterns in a storm while at the same time treading water. I think this skill kept life and breathe in me for many years, but now I fear I’ll drown in this roiling mass. I must touch down my tender toes and learn to walk this twisting path and keep a pace with this spinning world. Everything moves and I am overwhelmed. I have forgotten my flesh and blood nature; have mistaken myself for a stone, one which dare not roll, one which has no part in this endlessly moving map.








Be honest with your toes

*



SATISFACTION

Satisfaction is like a marble in my pocket.
Formed when correctness was still red hot
And my sponsor rolled my mind until I was whole.

I sigh and square my shoulders
I know I am up to any task.
I am skilled with my tools and know well the talents
Of my intimates and helpmates.

I am not invincible but I am capable.
I value who and what I am today.
I sleep the sleep of a person
Not a hostage or captor, I am me.

I have a marble in my pocket
And it reminds me of the world.
I have a world within me
Knowing how to live with that
Is a great satisfaction.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 20



Dewy, Cheatum & Howe


I must radically sever the close connection I have with self-seeking, self-pity and dishonesty. What will I use to pay the retainer for the representation I will need to pursue this divorce? Willingness is the earnest money, which will start the ball rolling, hard work pitches in its share and faith pays the note each day I apply it. All this and more is what it takes to divide the endless stream of my compulsive thought into a survivable days worth of life. I have the prospect of being happy as a divorcee or I could be a miserable widow if I stay wed to my disease.





Try not to be the exception to everything

*

PROMISE BROKEN

If promise shatters without anyone touching it,
If it pops like a floating soap bubble that lost cohesion,
What do I do--name names--I can’t even take fingerprints.

Sometimes dreams just end--no fault or blame is attached.
The ice breaks under its own weight
And nothing can be done.

I am more than just holding on.
I am alive even if all the promises melt away.
I can accept the unexpected and unasked for.

I know this doesn’t affect my worth.
My value is intact regardless of disappointment or discontent.
I have learned that anticipation is mere amusement.
Promises are pleasantries
.
I am made of stronger stuff.
I am not broken by words, ideas or hope.
Promise can be broken
But it doesn’t break me.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 21



Hang on or Dance


Because I felt ‘outcomes’ slipping through my fingertips I dug in with my nails, I schemed, plotted, worried, whined. Lack of power was my problem I thought, but what it came down to was, failure to acknowledge… accept… failure to surrender to the reality of powerlessness. The only thing I learned from resistance was an intimate knowledge of futility. When I embraced truth… the facts…when I live with the gravity of masses not fight against it; I began to enjoy the weather, knowing I did not pull the clouds or push the storm. I’m back in the dance of people moving about me, all keeping with the time, it is not mine to keep.




Befriend science

*

CHANNELING

It’s a full feeling to be a channel.
Only an empty feeling when it’s blocked
At the base of my spine
And God can’t go to my head.

The river flows through me and my banks will hold
Excuses dam me up
And leave a dry and lifeless basin
With tributaries taxed for uselessness.

Staying in the groove conveys my Higher Powers will
Without need of my furrowed brow.
A hose with no water running
Is a place for spiders to spin.

If I shut off the service I am a breeding ground
For creeping sadness and shocking misery
Compliance allow me the view
Of flowing strength and rushing joy
The greatest of which is living with intent.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 22

Up to Date

The future is a prison I escape by staying in today. The tiny windows which open to strange foreknowledge have barbs rather than bars and inflict painful wounds when I attempt too close examination. My business is here and now; the currency like manna, good only for the duration of the day and nothing further. Pretty dreams and colossal disaster float as baubles on the horizon but I need to take down my focus from such far off vistas; adjusting the optics for a clear view of where I am standing. Circumscription is what the destiny becomes when I try to live in it too soon. Novelty is what it is to be living in the very moment I am currently breathing in.

Find ways to embrace the random nature of life

*

ORIGAMI

I fold my reality like origami

Everyday a shape to suit my whim.

A dog when I feel like begging.

A horse when I want to trot away.

A pot to brew up some potion.

A penguin when I feel cold

And I stand on my egg all day.

I can bend and flex, change my image

But in the end I am truly flat and lifeless

A construct of imagination but soulless and boring.

Reality cannot be my creation,

Made in the accordion of my mind.

Truth and breath come like wind

And I need to let them change direction

And change me too.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 23




Carrion


The trouble with not burying my dead issues is that in very short order they begin to smell and not, too long after that they start to attract vultures. Alternately when I am able to drain all the juice out of these botherations and they become freeze-dried decorations like Roy Rodger’s Trigger, I find that I can still climb aboard but they just don’t take me anywhere. I have found, just for me that I prefer visiting the grave of a past problem far better than having to live with its corpse, but then I am funny like that. I have never been one for hanging on to the crucifixion, of other’s or my own.







Don’t wait for the bell of courage to sound, go ring it yourself


*

THE CALL

Within the sound of your voice
I sing.
In the beat of your heart
I heal.

I feel in your touch
And dance when your toe starts to tap.
I see myself in your beauty
And warm inside your embrace.

Your thoughts are my inspiration.
Your lungs breathe me in and blow me out.
I soar in your flight
And dream in your waking.

I ring in your ears
Fall with your tears.
I’m lost in you
And found in you.

I travel and lounge in you
I share all your rantings and hide in your secrets
You hear and caress me, my darling
You know who I am.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 24



Just Say NO to Bushel Baskets


Spending my life under a bushel basket kept me from realizing who I am. I thought because of the close quarters I knew myself better than those free to explore the world, yet, alas, no. I am unaware of the world outside and inside the bin; this woven covering served to sever all true communications. Even in places where my candle burned through, it couldn’t allow sufficient light, in or out, for as much as an SOS or a night light. Here I am, not knowing my abilities… my possibilities…. or my worth and there is the world, standing a startled stranger from me, for I only know it as the circle around my feet and nothing more.






Manipulate your mind until it is supple and flexible


*

HARD TIMES

Sometimes I pack the earth down so hard
that weeds can’t even grow up through.
I try to make nature inert.
I try to kill my alcoholism.

I confine my disease to this tiny path of compacted dirt
and wear blinders as to ward off distractions.
I forget there is a garden to be grown
in the fertile ground of my recovering mind.

Losing the compulsion to drink is a gift.
Stopping my mind from thinking is soul murder.
I can sink my toes in the good brown soil
and look to the lilies and Queen Ann’s Lace for inspiration
.
I can stop giving myself such a hard time.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 25




Echidna’s Child



The difference between perplexed paranoia and procrastination is sometimes a subtle distinction. The confusion which swirls, confounding me along my trudge, gets the name of procrastinator. I am not at all sure I should continue to call it by that name. I believe that quite possibly I am an internal chimera, a blend of creatures, both mythic and fantastic, striving to live as one functioning specter, in a world too hard for a disparate visage as myself. When I am most myself, when the goal is pure and true, I work with a will. When I am making deadly compromise and risking my soul for social ease or the approval of the keepers, my dragon heart rebels and I am struggling against the fire in my stomach and fear screaming in my head. I don’t know how to eliminate the conflict, but for now I will attempt to stop calling myself names.




Beware of hopelessness it has a big imagination
*

WATERLINE

The interface of water and land is compelling.
Soothing but dramatic I’m drawn to this transition.
I stand and watch the lap, lap, lapping of the liquid to the land.

The gift of one place to another calls me.
Change and transition exhilarate my senses.
Whether it is rock or sand, river or sea,
I feel the pull to watch life in response.

Boundaries are beautiful.
Borders allow safety and recreation not just risk.
When I embrace this in life I embrace it in me.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 26




Make Use of Brown Soap


When I have death in my pocket it makes it easy to cross the street without a glance. A little arsenic in my in my veins allows me to swallow the rest with no thought beyond want. Twist the screws tight enough in my brain and no other pressure seems problematic. All of the trouble in the world can beat a path to my door when I carry within me the seeds of destruction. I have to check myself for stow-away devastation. Ruin begins in tiny droplets but will wash me down the drain if not wiped immediately from my skin. Vigilant acknowledgement of the power of small burdens protects me from the mind blown ravages of the ensuing cyclone. Microbes cause mayhem, so I must watch where I touch and wash before I eat.






Don’t keep your windows shuttered; don’t keep your eyes closed

*

UNIFIED THEORY

When I build the circuit correctly the light comes on.
When I heal the shards together the bell rings.
If I am meticulous and attentive, if the world is gracious
And bares herself to my mind I will see how everything fits.

I know the reflexive nature of things
And the way life folds one thing inside the other.
Whale song is a long slow underwater birdcall.
Moon rise, sun rise, then the moon again.

The universe works without my interference
But also without my complete understanding.
I am learning how to be a part of a beautiful maze
I long to comprehend it.

The weeds are trying to take back the city
If I lay down maybe they will take me back too.
If I keep my eyes open I might see it all unfold.
Conception without is my desire within.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 27




Burning with Desire


You cannot stop the flames from licking me by telling me I am not on fire. For some reason you do not perceive the flames; you do not know fire. I cradle the desperate hope that you will recognize the ashes when the burn is done. By then it is too late for rescue, but the field is then wide open for regret. Resplendent is what I thought I was before the fire broke out. Now I feel like a misunderstood mansion torched to make way for a Walmart.




Dream your own dreams


*

FUNK & WAGNALL’S BACK PORCH

Bottoms come sealed in envelopes
From unknown accountants.
Amazing how many nominees and how few winners.
The audience filled with past recipients
Hold their collective breaths.

They pray for this year’s finalist
And pray a bigger prayer
Of thanks to this years donors,
The ones who prove with their lives
That it hasn’t gotten better out there.

The speeches are the same.
A gratitude list and maybe a punch line.
The smiles and tears fresh but familiar.

When the lights go out on this night,
The days of diligence begin once again
So no one need loose their seat
And we can all celebrate here next year together.

[LeftWriteFemme]

The story "Our Southern Friend" (written by Fitz M. who was AA #3 in NY) first appeared in the first edition of the Big Book in 1939 and has continued to be included in all of the four editions. For some unknown reason, when the Big Book transitioned in 1955 from the first edition to the second edition, the last three paragraphs of this story were removed. These last three paragraphs are quite beautiful and are included below:

Sensuality, drunkenness, and worldliness satisfy a man for a time, but their power is a decreasing one. God produces harmony in those who receive His Spirit and follow Its dictates.
Today as I become more harmonized within, I become more in tune with all of God's wonderful creation. The singing of the birds, the sighing of the wind, the patter of raindrops, the roll of thunder, the laughter of happy children, add to the symphony with which I am in tune. The heaving ocean, the driving rain, autumn leaves, the stars of heaven, the perfume of flowers, music, a smile, and a host of other things tell me of the glory of God.
There are periods of darkness, but the stars are shining, no matter how black the night. There are disturbances, but I have learned that if I seek patience and open-mindedness, understanding will come. And with it, direction by the Spirit of God. The dawn comes and with it more understanding, the peace that passes understanding, and the joy of living that is not disturbed by the wildness of circumstances or people around me. Fears, resentments, pride, worldly desires, worry, and self-pity no longer possess me. Ever-increasing are the number of true friends, ever-growing is the capacity for love, ever-widening is the horizon of understanding. And above all else comes a greater thankfulness to, and a greater love for Our Father in heaven.