On My Back

August 28, 2011

Custer said it first, then Lombardi. It’s not how many times you get knocked down, but get back up.

But, it gets tiring. It’s also starts to make you wonder. Why?
Why do I keep getting knocked down?
I wouldn’t ask the question if I got knocked down in different ways, for different reasons, or with the same results, but to find myself gasping, trying to catch my breath, flat on my back, again. Each time the duration in the supine position lasts a bit longer.

There’s this nagging sequence of thoughts.
What just happened? Holy cow, I didn’t see that one coming.
This hurts. Worse than ever.
I can’t believe I’m in this position again.
I’m not sure I want to get back up. If I could just figure out how to not get hit again.
Maybe if I stay here a little longer…
Boy, the sky is pretty.

I’m fairly self-aware. I’m not so blind, arrogant, or belligerent that I can’t admit if I blatantly keep running headlong into amok-ness every time and silently know exactly why I’m in the position I’m in yet again.

I’m thinking that there’s some great big, mysterious reason. “There’s a reason for everything” right?!

WTF? I just wish I knew.

It’s the repetitive nature of my sky view that has me hitting the pause button; pulling the plug on the energetic spring upward to start plowing forward yet again.

The round and round cycle obviously means something, otherwise I wouldn’t be here again.

I keep thinking I learn, grow, change. But here I am again. Clearly, there’s something I’m not seeing. Some turn-off I’m missing.

And I’m tired. So tired.

I think I’ll look at the clouds awhile.

Note to self: Things will be the same if I don’t change something. (Haha, so simple, yet…couldn’t be more gigantic.)