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Sometimes there is a fourth monkey depicted with the three others; the last one symbolizes the principle of “do no evil”. He may be shown crossing his arms.

It’s strange that this monkey isn’t standard issue, considering I use the other three to prep for it.

My left hand didn’t know what my right hand was doing. My right hand didn’t know what my left hand was doing. And I didn’t know what either of them were up to. They would simply present things for me to ingest. Close my eyes, plug my ears and drink this. Now supposedly, when I open my eyes, things will be better. At least that was the bill of goods my hands were selling.

Also, my hands were never idle. Little good that proverb did me. What needed to happen was a rechannelling of my quiet eyes, quiet ears, quiet mouth into a quiet heart, which in turn allowed for quiet hands. If quiet hands are what’s required, and when it comes to my alcoholism they are, I deflate and wait until moving forward.

However, hyperactivity rules my world. Remaining 24/7 mellow is just not possible. It was a goal that I kept failing at and beating myself up over. Now, thanks to a program that guides me and people who get me, I can go a hundred miles a minute, as long as the focus and the energy are directed positively.

And though that’s not always easy to recognize, I’m now aware to be aware.

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