The Winter of Our Discontent

Shakespeare wrote:

Now is the winter of our discontent

made glorious summer...

and was looking past the winter of discontent, which was in the past, and the "now" was made glorious. It certainly is winter, now. From Texas to New England, we've been socked in by snow since Monday night - well more than 48 hours now. And at least in my corner of Texas, the snow has nowhere near melted, the temperature now, 18F, is about as high as it's gotten, and being alone or - worse? - with family is rubbing raw. I've gotten out twice already for pure stir-craziness. Why would being in the same place since Monday evening seem so confining?

It's not, of course. My home is comfortable, warm enough with plenty of things to do - everything I might need. Well, perhaps I need program people. Certainly I need program people, but they're on my computer screen and the telephone works just fine. So why stir crazy?

They call it a geographic - the impression that just being in another place makes you more content, better into recovery, cures all the problems. It doesn't, of course. Now, changing places or jobs or other aspects of your life can make sense, as long as it's not running away, but my real problem - myself - goes with me everywhere.

The apostle Paul said, "I have learned to be content anywhere I am." I realized a long time ago - in the early 1970s - that I'm basically happy in any town, in any job. But even with that, I'm not happy with me, not with no interaction with anybody but me except through the computer. So, what do I have? I have the tools:

• a plan of eating
• sponsorship
• meetings
• telephone
• writing
• literature
• anonymity
• service
• action plan

I'm using the writing tool now, have already used literature and a plan of eating today, and have the ability to attend a meeting online or by telephone almost any time. Service and sponsorship I'll be doing later in the day. I've got all kinds of tools waiting for me to use. There's no reason for me to stop at "Now is the winter of our discontent" but I can move on to what it is that does make it glorious today, each day, one day at a time.