When drinking, I lived in spiritual, emotional, and sometimes,
physical confinement. I had constructed my prison with bars
of self-will and self-indulgence, from which I could not escape.
Occasional dry spells that seemed to promise freedom would
turn out to be little more than hopes of a reprieve. True
escape required a willingness to follow whatever right actions
were needed to turn the lock. With that willingness and action,
both the lock and the bars themselves opened for me. Continued
willingness and action keep me free--in a kind of extended
daily probation--that need never end.