Corking the Bottle

Today's dark present will be tomorrow's dark past. Someone said that at a recent A.A. meeting. That's good to think about on these dark, dreary, winter days. It seems like it rains eight days a week, and thick, dark clouds shroud us all the time. I can't wait for spring weather! When spring arrives with sunshine and warm days and baseball season, this dark day will be nothing more than a dark past. Budding trees and daffodils will actually make that dark past seem not so bad, because without the darkness, I would take the light for granted. Do you recognize the metafor? I don't like my dark drinking days. They make me embarrassed and ashamed. But without them, what would my life be like today? The sun would shine less brightly. I try not to mourn my past, but I don't shut the door on it, either. Those dark drinking days weren't wasted. They got me here. And "here" is a joyful place to be.

I don't like this time of year. We are well into winter and far from warm springtime temperatures. Most of the country, including here, is shrouded in a gloomy covering of gray that seemingly never lifts. Days such as these are when my depression used to peak. So far, I seem to be handling dim days better than I used to, for several possible reasons. I bought a Happy Light that is supposed to lift one's spirits when dullness dominates. I have it turned on me as I write this. My relationship with my wife is better than it has been in recent years. I aim to watch funny movies and TV shows. I keep myself busy in my days of retirement. On top of all that, I am not drinking -- not filling my brain with that overwhelming depressant. I feel God inside me all the time. It isn't my imagination. I know God and feel His presence whatever I am doing. I talk out loud to Him throughout the day, as if He is a buddy that stopped by for a chat. And then there is what Dottie said at ...