Years ago, when I was going through a major life change, I went to a seminar. The presenter used an analogy that always stuck with me. He asked us to imagine an old hound dog lying on a wooden porch. The dog's chin lies directly over a worn place in the planks, and a rusty nail is poking through the wood--right into the dog's tender flesh. It hurts. The old dog whimpers and whines and longs for the pain to subside. But the dog continues to lie in the same place, and the nail continues to cause him pain. Why doesn't the dog move?
Because it's easier not to.
The presenter of the seminar explained that so often, we are like the old hound dog. We are not happy with where we are. It is causing us discomfort or pain. But instead of doing something about it, we stay in the same place, doing what we have always done. And nothing changes.
Lately, I guess I've turned into an old hound dog. I have been bemoaning the fact that I never have time to write, that my life is too crazy, that some day when things calm down, I will start writing again. I've been lying on the porch, miserable about my fate, wondering why my life doesn't get better.
Well, it's time to get off the rusty nail.
For as long as I can remember, writing has been a passion of mind. I have always thought of myself as a writer. So it's time for this writer to start writing.
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