linger :: slow and sober (a poem)

The main expression of my spirituality has been this little church that I go to, and my sobriety.  The path of recovery and—I’m a terrible Christian and meditating is very hard for me, and I do it.  I do it badly, like I do a lot of things.  I believe in doing things badly.  I believe in listening to the—what calls you from your heart and your spirit and if you do it badly, like learning to dance, you do it badly or you’re going to kick yourself when you grow old and you meant to do it.  — Anne Lamott.

Listening to my heart, even if done badly

is better than never having done it.  My heart is glad

to be sober.  When I consider how many mornings I woke

with a hangover present

and the headaches. Dread and regret were loudly

pounding on my soul.  God woke me up, as he has done so many times.

Asked me

what was most important.  My hunger.

The black hole of fear and isolation?

I knew I wanted something.  But not this.  Broken-hearts are so unimpressed

with being sober.  But finally

it was, in the end, better to let go.  To know

that I was awake.  Loved.

And I remain with him.  My need.  I give it all.

I look for beauty now and find it.  Some day I will stop

searching.  For now I am just with him.  And it is enough.

to linger.