The progression of this disease catapulted me into outer space. An excess of chemical propellant overworked my sensory mechanism; like the crippled Apollo 13 spacecraft, I was almost stranded on the dark side of the moon. I could not manage the added power; I was not able to control this by myself. I needed a helping Hand, the spiritual reserve of a Higher Power. I felt like a man in a tunnel with no opening at the other end, or like a driver wearing sunglasses at night.
– Came To Believe . . ., p, 49
Thought to Ponder . . . Today, my brain has cleared with the grace of clarity.
AA-related ‘Alconym’ . . . K I S S = Keeping It Simple, Spiritually.
Our drinking fellowship was a substitute one, for lack of something better. At the time, we did not realize what real fellowship could be. Drinking fellowship has a fatal fault. It is not based on a firm foundation. Most of it is on the surface. It is based mostly on the desire to use your companions for your own pleasure, and using others is a false foundation. Drinking fellowship has been praised in song and story. The “cup that cheers” has become famous as a means of companionship. But we realize that the higher centers of our brains are dulled by alcohol and such fellowship cannot be on the highest plane. It is at best only a substitute. Do I see my drinking fellowship in its proper light?