LIFE IS TOO GOOD
I know it sounds crazy. Is crazy. But I hate having the fear, the gnawing gut of “what if I can’t maintain this”? The sober life I live, what if I get struck unable to connect to my Higher Power? I had a spiritual awakening; what if I get spiritual narcolepsy? My spiritual cord was cut when I was young, not by my choosing. What if it’s cut again?
“What if this line of thinking cuts it?” asks my sponsor
I hate when she’s right. What if this is the test? Be like them or not. Follow the path of the twelve steps when there is no weight of need pushing me. I have to keep my eye on the ball for myself when everything is going in my direction. I’m still not God. This is the lesson the abusers never learned. The one I have to.
“This has been a prelude to a decision,” says she.
“What went wrong was not bad people making bad choices in bad circumstances. It was disconnected people making decisions without help.”
I have to stay in your pocket. Never be a free bird. I have to remember what true freedom is. It’s not being cut loose. I had that and it never felt free.
“Keep your eye on the ball; hold onto my hand.”
Read a children’s book to yourself.
Is being a taunt to others really a life?
Dangling as the cover for a hook,
luring intended and unintended to their deaths,
is that living?
Or if I draw you with my attack
rather than my appeal
is that a worthwhile existence?
If I carry myself filled with poison
praying for a strike is that anything
other than a march to an unhappy grave
for two, or more?
Hidden under an avalanche of harassment
strips me of my vital quality
and my soul loses its true nature.
I am allowed to transcend
the setup of competition and social strife.
It’s alright to be tempting with no agenda.
I could be an appetizer
if only I removed the barbs
or better yet I could be dessert.