A hole again

Over the weekend I had an interesting experience with a person who I had never met before. We began a conversation and as time went on I began to feel uneasy about some of the things he was saying to me. This morning it finally dawned on me why. This person was simply a repeat, in different clothes, of what I thought I had eliminated from my life. There is a saying about not getting the message that involves moving from a pebble to a boulder that is aimed at ones head. By this morning I could clearly see my guide waving a large bright red flag in front of my eyes as I thought, wait a minute, I have been here before and I have no desire to return. So I pulled the plug on the person with no explanation.

This situation reminded me of a wonderful poem by Portia Nelson titled, There's a Hole in My Sidewalk. It goes like this.

Chapter One 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.

Chapter Two I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can not believe I am in the same place. But, it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter Three 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.

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

Chapter Five I walk down another street.

And so it is- no more holes for me!