I had the sweetest experience coming down the ramp to board the first plane home from Texas. It’s hard to describe. It was a sense of being one hundred per cent with myself. With no consciousness or care of what others may think of me. I walked happily, wishing the feeling never to leave. I …
I want to stay focused on loving closeness with my higher power. If I do, I know I’ll relax into the deeper understanding of how love works and how it’s okay to let go of petty concerns. My partner thinks I’m crazy saying my higher power talks to me, but I know I’ve never been …
This morning I take my computer to Ventura and face the findings – my documents are gone or not gone. I haven’t inventoried what I may have lost yet. I’ll wait for the verdict. I feel so much in acceptance now, that I’m calm. That’s God working in me because I keep talking to God. …
I’m having fun here and there throughout the day, in spite of having flares from rheumatoid arthritis. I have a very mild case. I feel as though I have nothing to work out, I’m not conflicted. It feels as though God is glad I’m here. The pain of missing people is acute sometimes, but I …
This is exactly what I needed. Thanks God. You’ve been with me giving me peace through everything, every hurt, sorrow, roadblock, frustration. Now I see the point of all the challenges. I grew a sense of calm acceptance. Of course. You don’t grow strength by going to the gym and standing there. You need resistance. …
Therapy (1978) by Cheryl Armstrong My friend Don Crain said, “How can I help you, Cheryl, what do you want from me?” (He sits in his chair facing me, smiling, patient, waiting.) What I want from you, I said in my mind, is a prescription. Rx: A day of San Francisco wind and mist, a …
LION TAMER Chapter 2 You’ve Got Mail April, 1993. The next morning. At 6 a.m., I sit at my sobriety meeting in a large chilly hall with wooden plank floors. The several lights of large windows let in the blue dawn. It’s a large hall, but it feels cozy with the wood and the windows …
Chapter 3 Baby Steps May, 1993. Two weeks later. At four o’clock in the morning, I hop on my kitchen stool to write on my computer, as usual. Writing’s the only thing that connects me to myself. Well, painting, does it too. But my place is too small to set up oil paints. I love …
Chapter 4 Cigarette-Ember Campfire May, 1993. The following morning. In the morning, daylight wakes me. Seven o’clock. I slept ten hours. l feel great. What happened last night? A part of me I didn’t recognize didn’t want me to nurture myself. Who was it? I have no idea. I feel strong. Refreshed. It doesn’t matter …