Clever Me

Reads 6
Votes 1
Parts 1
Time <5 mins

Reads 6
Votes 1
Parts 1
Time <5 mins

March 22
    
    Clever Me
    
    I am clever, I am so clever, everyone knows it and I know it, too.  So, why do I get slam stuck on the very simple things required to keep my life running smoothly?  I know what needs to be done, yet have no clue as to how to accomplish these threads of minutia.  I stall; panic, plod, pout.  When I do force myself to do it I end up creating either a new pile of impossible incidentals or some anticlimactic end, but secret solutions are as of yet undiscovered.  The whip, the lash and the club avail nothing though sweet enticements do no better.  I pray, “Dear G-d please help me!” but this has no point, I don’t want the help, I am afraid of the help, I am afraid of the change and of course who wouldn’t be?   Beyond here lay someone I don’t know, someone I only fear, beyond here lay the fearless me and I am clever enough to be afraid of her.
    
    Fill the potholes in your thinking
    
    *
    You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
    http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane
    http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriaultAll Rights Reserved

clever courage drama humor poetry potholes process recovery step

Table of contents

the process
Sun, Mar 22, 2015

March 22
    
    Clever Me
    
    I am clever, I am so clever, everyone knows it and I know it, too.  So, why do I get slam stuck on the very simple things required to keep my life running smoothly?  I know what needs to be done, yet have no clue as to how to accomplish these threads of minutia.  I stall; panic, plod, pout.  When I do force myself to do it I end up creating either a new pile of impossible incidentals or some anticlimactic end, but secret solutions are as of yet undiscovered.  The whip, the lash and the club avail nothing though sweet enticements do no better.  I pray, “Dear G-d please help me!” but this has no point, I don’t want the help, I am afraid of the help, I am afraid of the change and of course who wouldn’t be?   Beyond here lay someone I don’t know, someone I only fear, beyond here lay the fearless me and I am clever enough to be afraid of her.
    
    Fill the potholes in your thinking
    
    *
    You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
    http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane
    http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

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