Peers at work ask me about my plans,
Anything fun?
Yard work, perhaps some homework,
No doubt my life from the outside probably sounds lame,
Perhaps if I told them the whole truth they’d still think the same,
I drive to a church where strangers meet,
To sit in a circle and reflect,
In this divided society,
We sit and connect,
What my peers don’t know,
Is that I’m in recovery.
It was Saturday, talking to a girl from the other coast,
What’d you do tonight she’d ask after coming home late from a party,
I went to a meeting…
The conversation would shift, eventually we drift,
Clearly her night was better?
That Saturday I listened to someone share about their bottom,
Bringing back memories of the things I did when I was blacked out on alcohol,
I went home feeling lighter,
What were my problems? … I don’t recall,
Just another night of rolling around raw in vulnerability with others,
What a blessing,
Truly humbled,
I’m in recovery.
What is it that you do for fun? I assume normal people wonder,
The answer is anything,
I’m no longer encumbered,
Fear does not hold me back,
My fun no longer requires me to numb,
Most days I am happy with a cup of coffee, two people, and simple talk,
I have peace today in this life I walk,
Early on it was, “why’d I have to be this?”
Now I’m ecstatic that I get to live a life of service,
Continued growth and self-discovery,
Each day I get the opportunity to be a better me,
I’m in recovery.
Shaynanigans 