where the writers are

August 24




Sobriety is the Santa Claus, bringing delightful gifts, which make me smile.  Recovery is the Genie, which comes from staying out of bottles.  This Jin makes treasure possible but doesn’t bring it to my 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 drinking and the thinking.  I don’t need to pin up stockings or rub lamps, just take direction and make willingness my campaign.

  Store thoughts, plant seeds.