
I have fallen off the writing track. It was once my addiction, my meditation and my lifeline. Now it is a strenuous exercise, a has been and a difficult thing to resume. Tomorrow, I say. I will get back to it tomorrow. I have finally mustered enough will power to come to my keyboard. I’m tinkering with the letters and words. Can I make a sentence? Can I form a thought? Will my fingers find the magic and fly over the keys? Or will I fall back into my lament of another tomorrow?
Funny how easy it is to ‘being human’ and so difficult to ‘rise above it’. We use our humanness as an excuse. It is a good word. I’m only human. It is not my fault. It is all very true but how is it working for me? I’m reminded of Portia Nelson’s poem Autobiography in Five Short Chapters.
Chapter I
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost… I am hopeless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
Chapter II
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in this same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
Chapter III
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it there.
I still fall in… it’s a habit… but,
my eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
Chapter IV
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
Chapter V
I walk down another street.
I’m walking down Chapter 3 today. I can be grateful on seeing the hole. Habits are powerful and I am who I am. Falling is not a bad thing. It is the refusal to get up and out that is bad. Life is a long street. It’s not all a smooth walk. There’s holes in the sidewalk. It’s good to read all the chapters and learn the lessons. I hope this is another beginning of another long writing affair. Till tomorrow.
