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Come What May

November 10



Come What May


Inevitable things are very much like inedible things; you can’t quite swallow them yet they are hard to throw up.  It can’t seem to get here quick enough to comfort my fear nor will it pass with any speed once it has arrived.  I am like a boa with a hedgehog as my lunch, the shredding is rightfully dreaded and in no way preventable.  Not everything that wings my way is anxiety driven, but I have to admit that some things are.  I cannot spend my days wishing the storm clouds away so I will put on my slicker and hunker down for the drenching. 



The alleys in your mind are for passage not permanence




In truth, pride goes wherever it wants, it’s pride.
Pride wanders alone, for no one enjoys its company.
Pride travels far but gets nowhere.
Pride rises above reality and seeps beneath the surface.
When pride wears out, love and honesty poke holes in it.
Until it is grounded and transforms to humility
Pride’s past is remembered with flush and embarrassment.
Recounting yesterday is pride’s unenviable task.
Keeping it from recreation is mine.



You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault