Some door in me has closed
When mother was taken away.
Some deep doubt in believing overcomes me
When my woman goes through pain.
Some part of me died
When my brother left this earth.
Some tissue in my core rattles
When I think of my father grieving, living alone from all.
Some bird screams in my head as if in terror
When I recall all this.
It screams constantly.
He is a shadowed star child
He is the pale light piercing atmosphere
Looking for life to care for him
Breathing poisoned air
When the womb wants him no longer.
Time comes when bones bend bizarre
And mind goes sideways
His living becomes torture to others
Caring smiles turns to sardonic grins
Helping hands grow short and cold.
He is no longer life cherished in their heads
But a strange alien not belonging to living
Once wanted color becomes a burden
Desired touch retreats beyond horizon.
His breath is shortened with time
Yet his light not all gone
Once extinguished, energy come back
In another field, another womb.
He keeps reappearing,
Broken body and mangled mind
Reborn until we understand
His spirit keeps looking for care unconditional.
the image was copied from https://phys.org/news/2014-09-cosmic-dark-clouds-sunshine.html and shadow-mangled by me. thank you.
I suppose there cannot be true recovery and progress without gratitude for what have happened outside of one’s personal efforts. Changes roll along the horizon and the wind of difference blows in many ways that are sometimes in alignment of what we hope for, and sometimes not.
I was lucky. When I came to an AA meeting 16 years back, I had no idea what to expect, and yet the wind did blow in alignment to what my tortured mind and spirit were calling for. I kept revisiting the meeting and kept listening and sharing. The social factor united with the spiritual worked wonders for my recovery. Combination of all the right things, even though sometimes looking scary and not something I wanted to do the work in, brought me to the places where I felt and home and had support I never hoped for.
I still look back once in a while and think “Hell, I haven’t really did much, have I?” The Steps work was not like a coal mine work. It was a cozy time with a book and a conversation with a person who walked in my shoes. But it was still hard at times, because I had to look deep inside at things I said and did, things that were not nice, things I wasn’t proud of, and some that I was ashamed of. Strength with which I addressed those issues and confusions paid for success in continued abstinence and more joyful living, enjoying sobriety.
How? I had poured those efforts and hopes into the recovery that I believed in, and what came out, as reflected light, with the support of the AA community and the spirit of healing was a light of ten-fold strength. That thought kind of lived with me for years, but I’ve never put into words until recently I looked up yet again at the Pink Floyd poster in my room and realized that the “Dark Side of the Moon” cover art reflected those thoughts exactly. The Promises of AA worked for me so greatly. I’ve received in sobriety so much more than I’ve put in.
Thank you again, Dave T., fellow in recovery, who gifted me that poster and thank you to those that supported me all these years. It is my thinking of you and I, that keeps me together. May we all last joyous and free in mind, body, and spirit!
———–
the image was copied from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Dark_Side_of_the_Moon and sand-blasted by me. there is also some interesting info on that page how the artwork came about. thank ya!
I know the Force may be with me, but I think it is important to let it be with me. In other words, I need to allow myself to accept change, just as allowing myself to learn of it, or the lessons that come my way.
Over 15 years ago, I saw the signs that there were negative events happening in my life regarding alcohol consumption, and yet I’ve chosen to disregard them until they stared me right in the face.
I had to make myself teachable in order to learn. I could’ve been taught by the most brilliant minds, and still receive nothing. So often when been talked to as a kid and youth, I blocked it all, staring into the space of the floor. Why? Perhaps I knew not how to react, how to say what I was really thinking. Perhaps there was pride involved. Perhaps I didn’t understand why I wouldn’t be just left alone in serenity of my own devices. The point is, I blocked what was said, and made the people who were trying to break out to me disgruntled.
Disgruntlement kept blooming where I went from there on, and sometimes I had no idea I’ve caused it. Also very important, I wasn’t learning, be it from school classes, or people, or environment. Thus, naturally, I kept making mistakes, usually the same ones.
It took dire circumstance such as realization of being enslaved by alcoholism and asking strangers of AA for help to allow myself to learn. I had to recognize personal mental deterioration to invite positive change. I had to allow myself to learn to get better, because, again, no success of recovery could be instilled if I refused accepting help.
From the day of my allowing myself to accept change, my life started to spring in positive direction. So far it has been 16 years of it, and many things were accomplished, mostly because learning from the initial experience of acceptance, I’ve practiced embracing openness to change on a daily basis, whether I liked it or not. When you ask the cosmos for assistance or somewhat re-assurance, you recognize personal vulnerability and become open to suggestion. Among other things, it’s called a prayer. I prayed a lot in the last decade and a half, simply because there were so many things out of my control, and because by then time I knew of my powerlessness AND accepted that vulnerability was not always being a negative thing.
Let the Force be with you. Allow it.
the image was copied from https://giphy.com/explore/may-the-force-be-with-you. thank you.
Most of us
Are lucky
To have scars
Form over wounds.
We may forget,
Or not even know
That there are some
In their hemophilic body and spirit
That keeps bleeding.
I’d rather have
Actual scars in my skin
Than scabs of old carnage
Over my soul.
Reality whispers into my ear
That doesn’t work like that.
People’s energy keeps being bled
And the wise ones call it
“Experience.”
Sometimes I wonder
If I can pass that knowledge
For, clearly,
I wouldn’t need it
Like some subjects
I wasted years on in school.
But I guess
Some crap still manages
To fly into your life
Even if you shut the windows well.
The fortunate ones live with scars
And over time
They become a part of our skin
To the point
We often don’t notice them
For what they are,
Or remember
What they represented.
We live on and care for our skin.
With creams and oils.
I do remember what they came from, though
That’s why I am still here –
My scars became part of my body
In a healthy way
Because my pain
From obtaining those wounds
Made me stronger.
I remember what I cannot do
And why.
Experience is no longer
Such a negative word
In my vocabulary.
the image was copied from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WpFulmjknb4 Funny enough, this video demonstrates how to removes scars with the use of Photoshop program.
Sometimes I must be blind to life itself,
And being deaf to reasoning
For me is no stranger.
My excuse is the pulse of existence so mercilessly fast,
And rules that seem to change every hour.
I swim in the river,
Paying attention to direction,
Not surroundings.
That’s when the view comes through
In times and places unexpected.
The shock, though subtle,
Is still strong.
Such is the time –
I’ve looked at this photo for years
Vainly,
Bothering my mind not,
And still I saw just branches and an occasional face.
It was when questioning came –
Of the fairness of reality,
Of the sense of trying hard,
That I saw them,
The runes of abundance.
Just trees they were,
And just trees I always seen in them
Yet when I needed to know it,
Their growing grace came through
With me least expecting it,
Filling my mind with knowing
And my spirit with feeling cared
For many a time.
Plentifulness is not always noticed,
But it is present,
Just like the earth keeps springing with life,
Unseen, uncared for by our ever-busy minds,
Yet it’s always pulsing in its own steady dance,
Ignoring my impatience
And short belief circuits failures.
Trezvennost II 