natural selection/monkeys with typewriters edition

Implied in the bones of trees collected in water underground in the soil in the latent sky in the still holding together of nature despite our every abuse to its liver Implied in the rolling bending sixths of Misterioso in the chills one gets watching someone nail it on dumbass American Idol maybe even in indie rock or the avant garde Implied in evolution in the profusion and elegance of species in physics in the ineffable multiplicity of the universe Implied in babies, kids, in the light that lights the dying eyes of elders, the love and care people show each other when push meets shove So if all of this is (infinite) monkeys with (infinite) typewriters all the more it’s worth wonder and admiration scratching one’s head/hanging onto one’s hat Worth reverence and attempts at grace and honoring the singularity of the now its unbreakable tie to past sacrifice and future possibility the sheer stupid luck of existence by any reckoning Written on the cusp of spring, from a fucking Greyhound bus

replacements

The other night I received my four year sobriety coin. I was smiling, and I told my home group that while I first thought I could do this by myself, I knew now that that was wrong. I wasn't just saying shit I thought they wanted to hear. It was also what I really felt, or at least wanted to be truly what I did feel. In 2009 I knew I needed to stop drinking--the warning signs were myriad, bright and garish-but I was naive about what it would mean to go without medication I'd relied on for my entire adult life. The question for me has been about replacements. When I make progress it's because I'm being conscious about replacing alcohol with things that are actually good for a person: exercise, therapy, meditation, acupuncture, music, literature, being there for my family of choice and my family of origin, connecting with new friends and reconnecting with my old ones, seeking to reconnect with my sense of creativity, purpose, and destiny. When I falter it's by passive aggressively embracing death, isolating, hiding, falling into fear of a past I've never outrun, by overeating, by misgauging and poorly modulating my emotional, spiritual, and professional responsibilities on any given day, by looking at smoking as a solid alternative. In any moment I have a choice about which route to take, about which tendency to feed and push along. And if I sought your advice on the subject, which would you suggest.