Book of Jamez

55 y/o malcontent, something of a writer

Tag: fire

  • The Fire

    On fire with AA.

    I’ve said that about people before, even had it said of me before – usually it’s when they or I am expressing so much gratitude and love for the program that it’s almost too much … like an over sugary dessert, yes it’s sweet but it’s a bit too much almost evangelical. But since the beginning, and I’m taking the liberty of speaking for others here as well (I’ll ask for forgiveness later), there has been some kind of burning since I got to AA.

    At first there was just the spark, a spark of hope – the flimsy reed, that gave us a light to walk towards. “Maybe this AA thing can work for me too”

    that spark ignites the first flames in AA (No, we’re not speaking specifically of gay men… but maybe them too) – we get a sponsor, we start participating in the meeting and maybe start relating to others experience.

    Our sponsors and our group leaders feed that small fire, they put logs and kindling on it – they give us commitments to group and we soon have a hearth, a  place where our fire usually burns – a home if you will.

    When we finally get it, when the solution encompasses us we burn brighter and brighter, hotter and hotter and attract others, they see this roaring fire and are drawn to it, they want the warmth and comfort that we have created.

    Once in a while someone will come along with a poker (mmmmm) and stoke the fire, sending sparks here and there and igniting other flames, a torch has been passed to another who will build their own hearth.

    Yet sometimes we can forget to feed the fire, we can forget to participate and keep it going – maybe think the fire will sustain itself – we aren’t sharing anymore, its ours we want to just sit there in the warmth and be comfortable. No logs and the fire starts to die down. 

    It’s still comforting there, people see the flame and want it, it’s pretty, comforting, attractive – but its slowly becoming smaller and dimmer.

    When the wood is burned up and the red glow of the embers is still there, we can still get a little warmth, we can still see the faint glow of hope – but to share it we really need to stoke the fire – we have to have participation and share our fire to keep it strong.

    I don’t think there are things that can douse an AA flame once its been started – you hear countless people who go out come back and say they remembered the hope they had found in AA and longed for it. I hope you keep your flames bright and comfortable today – and maybe share a spark.

  • Up In Smoke

    Today there was a little mishap with someones lunch and the work microwave and pillars of smoke encompassed our small little office space. It was a terrible tragedy as the lunch didn’t survive

    very well done
    very well done

    The smell in the office was pretty bad though, one of our office mates sneezes around smoke as if someone doused her in sneezing powder, I felt sorry for her. The rest of us just ended up with our clothes, hair and skin smelling like burnt plastic. It was lovely. This wasn’t my first time smelling like burnt something or another…

    Back in 1985 (lets jump in the Way Back Machine Sherman!) I was living with Grandma in Whitehall. Every morning was the same routine with her, she’d wake me up and write in her journal and start singing some song or other and eventually get around to making herself breakfast. I wasn’t much of a breakfast person so I didn’t usually partake on school days, which this was.

    I just happened to be in the kitchen when something on the stove caught fire and there were high flames and billowing black smoke and Grandma yelling…

    “Don’t panic, don’t panic! I know what to do” and she grabbed an oven mitt and the lid to the pot and smothered it.

    Then she went on to explain that pouring water on it would have been a disaster and you should always know how to handle kitchen fires. At this point i would stop and wonder if she purposefully had the fire happen to teach me a lesson about putting them out, she was crafty like that. Nah, she wouldn’t… would she?

    Well the fire was out so I just left for school, never bothering to think that I might smell a little off… hell I was a smoker, didn’t I always smell like smoke?

    Well someone at the school thought it must be something else and before the end of first period I was called to the Principals office and asked if I’d been smoking pot. No really, apparently grease fires smell a lot like pot to people who don’t have a clue what pot smells like.

    At first I was outraged, HOW DARE THEY THINK I MIGHT BE SMOKING POT, I mean sure I might be… but how dare they… I always waited at least until lunch time – actually, I rarely had pot at school, why ruin a good high by being at school? (now if I had know about LSD back then, well … then that would have been a much better story).

    Anyway, I assured him that I hadn’t and explained about the grease fire, it actually took me a minute to remember that that’s what had happened that morning. It seemed insignificant in the grand scope of how to be a miserable teenager.

    So today I was taken for a little trip back to Whitehall WI and Grandma… and memories of stealing doorknobs to sell on the black-market… yeah, those were the good old days. And work, well I’m sure we’ll all be fine but I bet that smell lingers for a day or two.