The Water Wagon

I have come to have a more than complex relationship with the wagon. I have walked alongside it, while another was on it, I have helped friends who had fallen off climb back on. I have been driven over by the wagon and put on it to heal. I have myself fallen off and voluntarily climbed back on. I have laid behind the wagon in the dusty road, coaxed of it by love ones and the unmentionables. But most of my time was spent with the wagon safely parked in the garage.

3 years ago I once again mounted the wagon. Determined that my walking (crawling) days where over. That I would move swiftly and with dignity upon the wagon. That I would arrive in life and be happy. But things rarely turn out as I hope. As in drinking, so was it in sobriety. On and off the wagon has been taking it's toll, more so emotionally than physically. The roller coaster highs became lows and the lows went lower to the deepest, darkest bottom of self loathing and resentment. On the wagon I was taunted by guilt. Of the wagon I was taunted by guilt. I lost people dear to me both on and off the wagon. Some joined me on the wagon, just to abandon me at the next corner when the thirst was greater than the water of life could quench.

I have come to hate the wagon, yet I rely on the wagon being there, ever ready for me to climb on it again and ride to my destiny. I have discovered that my wagon has a single seat and the switch to the roller coaster is mounted on the dashboard. The wagon is comfortable and safe. The wagon is also lonely, and envied by those still wagon less.

There will always be a crowd following the wagon, hoping to find a place on it. But we all have our own wagons. We only need to find them and use them. Only then can we draw our wagons together in unity.

I have almost given up on my wagon, when I read these words:

It is common sense to take a method and try it. If it fails, admit it frankly and try another. But above all, try something.

- Franklin D. Roosevelt

My wagon now looks very different.