Tag Archives: portia nelson

Choosing Joy

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Things don’t flow easily for me and joy doesn’t come naturally. And so I have to make choices and work at making them come true. I have never sung in the shower. It’s hard to bounce out of bed in the morning. I felt stuck to the mattress. I didn’t want to stay there all day so I had to choose to unstick and hoist myself out. I didn’t really want to go to the gym either. But I knew it was good for what’s ailing me. I chose not to dwell on my ‘feelings’ and went.

In the past, I have allowed my emotions to rule the roost. Now having lived through many ups, downs and sideways, I have more experience and better control. I am in the driver’s seat and can decide whither I shall go – most of the time. I don’t want to keep falling into Portia Nelson’s hole in the street. I walk down another street called joy.

“I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost… I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

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 the same place.
But, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in. It’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.

walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

I walk down another street.”

SELF PEP TALK

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March 17th, Wednesday morning. It’s almost 9 am. The sun is weak like tepid tea. I am, too. No get up and go. I sit, sip and tap. There’s no need to rush off to anything. I used to like to sew my quilt blocks in the early morning. It was still in the winter dark. I would turn on my feel good bright lamp, the radio and the fireplace. It was cosy and comforting, stitching up, cutting and ironing. All the while I’m listening to what is happening in Saskatchewan.

Now that the sun is rising earlier I rather sit and bask in its bright or not so bright light. I’ve had my fill of listening to the radio, especially the news. It’s all about the Covid, the vaccines and side effects. Have you noticed that all conversations are about that? It is all so very heavy and fatiguing. And yet we can’t seem to talk about anything else. Our National news is the same. The whole hour mostly focused on that, night after night for a whole year now. Oh, Donald Trump and the U. S. election did break through. But what about the rest of the world, the rest of life?

I am getting rather comfortable in my little bubble. I am happy with sewing my quilt squares, starting seedlings and messing and checking up in the greenhouse. I am reluctant to venture out. A trip to Costco was a major deal in my head. I had to take the guy with me. When we got there, it was no big deal. He was handy in pushing the cart and unloading things into the car. I feel I always struggled with bulky and weighty packages. Even visits with my parents feels big and problematic. I would have to do some head and mind clearing first. What a sad sack I am, heh?

My first vaccine shot is about 2 weeks away. I think I will head back to the gym and pool a couple of weeks after that. I miss the challenge of physical activity. It is the best medicine for my physical and mental health. It’s a-get-out-of-the-house prod. Being dour by nature, I have to work very hard to be in a good mental space. It’s a good thing. I have something to do all the time. I could not very well stay in a puddle or down the rabbit hole. I’m a very slow learner. I’m slow at everything but like the tortoise I can win some races.

Here’s my autobiography by Portia Nelson:

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters
I.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in. I am lost. I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
II.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I still don’t see it. I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in the same place.
It isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
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 habit. It’s my fault. I know where I am.
I get out immediately.
IV.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
V.
I walk down a different street.

TOMORROW

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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.

I’VE FALLEN INTO THAT DAMN HOLE AGAIN

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I’m repeating myself, but February is heart month. To have heart is to have courage. Sometimes Many times I feel such a lacking in myself. I have not taken the helm. I’m blown hither and thither in the winds of life. I have been so disengaged, living in my head mostly. I haven’t even noticed. I’ve said so many “it doesn’t matter” and “good enough”. Suddenly I woke up today to find that it does matter. I matter and I won’t settle for good enough. Things have to be better or I will not be able to move forward. I shall be forever walking down the same f**ing street in Portia Nelson’s poem.

“I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost… I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

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 the same place.
But, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in. It’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

I walk down another street.”

I am very disappointed and angry with myself. I have been lazy. There’s no other reason. It’s hard work to have a life. I have gotten up, dressed up and shown up every day. But I have not put in the effort to do the hard work. I thought I have but I hadn’t. How the view changes as I wake up from my sleep. I have found some courage on the Yellow Brick Road to the Emerald City. I have to work and strengthen my heart and keep my brain clear not to regress and fall into the same frigging hole. I will avoid those 2 idiot phrases from my speech as much as possible. No, I must delete them completely.

Now if I was to fall into the rabbit hole with Alice, it might be more fun, revealing and helpful.

 

 

BUT IT ISN’T MY FAULT

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I can’t believe I’m in the same place. But it isn’t my fault. How often have I felt and said that? The other day cleaning out stuff, I found some scribbling dated 1988.

  1. I have trouble cleaning my house. I accumulate too many things
  2. I have trouble trusting other people with my feelings
  3. Right now I have a negative image with my head nurse which stems from the past
  4. I find it hard to take care of my car properly
  5. I can’t cook
  6. I need more time to pursue my goals

The list was from a course called Adventures in Attitude. From where I am sitting now, I can’t really say that I was successful or adventurous. I am mostly talk. I am very good at taking courses and reading self-help books. As for applying the principles, I’m not so sure.  I’m still talking the same lingo. I still have that same problem of keeping my place tidy. I still have piles of clutter. I can’t seem get pass GO.

I am not a total failure. I have rid a few items on the list. I can cook now. I don’t worry about the car anymore. I take it in for servicing. I no longer worry about head nurses. I’m free of working and answering to authority figures. I have time and yet still not enough. As for trusting others with my feelings, I’m here talking, aren’t I?

Where to go from here? Seems like I need to work on #1. So simple and yet so hard.  29 years later, I’m still crying and whining about the same damn things.  I better read Portia Nelson’s poem again. Better yet, if only I could DO the clearing and cleaning.

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost… I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

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 the same place.
But, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in. It’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

I walk down another street.

 

 

 

NEEDS – Day 273 in a year of…

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Day 273 – April 27, 2017 @9:55 am

Now that I have made the return to my words, I need to heed them as well. I need to do as I say else they would be empty words. They would be like the emperor without clothes.

273 days in my journey of change, it is still easy to fall into the same faulty behavioral patterns that Portia Nelson talks about. It’s good to review her words again.

“I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost… I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

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 the same place.
But, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in. It’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.

walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

I walk down another street.”

I’m not as helpless and lost as I was at the beginning of the journey. I’ve been lost and had fallen into the same hole quite a few times. This morning I was right on the edge, teetered and stood my ground. Nope! I’m not falling in this time.

Practice. Keep on trying. Let go. Love. Be kind. These are some of the things I need to do over and over. It’s a meditation. It’s living. It is.