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Once a certain scribe stood up and said, “Rabbi, what must I do to gain eternal life?”
By Stephen MitchellLife is just a short walk from the cradle to the grave — and it sure behooves us to be kind to one another along the way.
Alice Childress
As I said, maintenance treatment cuts the death rate for opioid addiction in half, which is better than any other method that’s been studied. If you went to a cancer center and weren’t even offered the treatment that reduced your risk of death the most, you would have grounds for a malpractice case. Yet most residential addiction-treatment centers do not offer maintenance treatment and, in fact, oppose it, saying it’s not “real” recovery.
By Arnie CooperThe goat became my charge during my third week in rehab. My counselor, Victoria, suggested I browse the stuffed-animal collection at the clinic gift shop and select one to represent my inner child. “Care for it,” she told me. “Keep it safe. Treat your inner child as you would a baby bird that’s fallen out of its nest.” She cupped her hands, as if to cradle a tiny chick.
By Brooke FergusonIt’s 7 AM, and I’ve finally come back to my car. I force myself to check my phone and assess the damage: four missed calls — three from Rebecca, my girlfriend, and one from my father. I’m parked at a Pavilions grocery store on Melrose in Hollywood, a few blocks from the gay bathhouse where I’ve been since yesterday evening.
By Robert BitskoPeople have started offering you desserts in a way they think is casual, saying, “It’s just one bite. It won’t make a difference!” But it does. You can eat certain foods and you cannot eat others, and this is the only way you can feel OK. Losing weight is not the point.
By Kathryn PhelanSo many times I would take risks that should have scared me but didn’t. When you grow up in a big city with hands-off parents, you become accustomed to harrowing situations. You may even come to feel that the wet plum of fear living permanently in your gut is essential to your being.
By Frances LefkowitzJeff is getting ready to start the meeting, pretending since I walked in that he hasn’t seen me. I don’t blame him for that, but I feel like telling everyone that most of the shit they spout in these places isn’t true. If it were, Jeff wouldn’t be ducking me; he’d be taking me on in front of everyone and forcing the Truth. Where’s your Fearless and Searching Moral Inventory, Jeff?
By Jessica HallidayIn his version the river had practically dried up. / No way, I said. I was there not long ago. / The river looked fine.
By Catherine FreelingWhen I drank, many people / tried to get me to quit. / When I drank, I drank the way / this cardinal is smashing into / our living-room window again / and again
By Lisa BellamyI walk past the Kwik Trip where you found me / in the dumpster, tunneling for canned food. / Past the VFW where you bought us burgers, / newspaper now taped over the windows.
By Anders Carlson-WeeOur high-school principal wagged his finger / over two manila folders / lying on his desk, labeled with our names — / my boyfriend and me, / called to his office for skipping school.
By Margaret Hasse