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Single Serving Sterling

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






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.


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