AUTOBIOGRAPHY IN FIVE SHORT CHAPTERS
by Portia Nelson
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 me forever to find a way out.
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 the same place
but, 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 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.
IV
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
V
I walk down another street.
I can't tell if T was a "I walk around it" pothole situation, or a "I fell in because it's a habit" pothole. Either way, I think I'm progressing toward walking down another street.
In the back of my mind, I still harbor the illusion that all this self reflection and personal work will yield an easier life. I'm starting to see how that isn't true, and how, instead, it's yielding a more flexible me to respond to an unpredictable and unstable life that is not always bad or good or easy or safe or hard or scary. It really just...*is*...and all this work is changing my responsibility toward it, in that it is changing my ability to respond.
Or something like that. :) Here's to eventually walking down a new street.
