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Crooked Handlebars

MEMOIR PROJECT ROUGH DRAFT

At this point, it is good to build a foundation for the ultimate conclusion that, while for a short time I lived in the house of my dreams, my lot in life would not be to live my dream, but to live with what life handed me, and that would always change from one year to another. And with the pattern, I would learn, or internally decide being happy and pursuing what made me happy would be futile because life would not give this to me. Life would hand me what it wanted to hand me and I would either deal with it, or let it destroy me. And because of this pattern, any motion in a direction taking control of my life, taking control of my happiness, taking control of my peace of mind, taking control of my fate, and demanding of life what I wanted and not what it wanted to give of me, bordered on insubordination and also created a sense of discomfort. Much like the analogy Dr. Wierwille used in PFAL class of a man who rides a bike with crooked handlebars all his life will have a difficult time steering the bike if you straighten the handlebars for him, my handlebars would eventually become completely turned around. And righting them, or even attempting to right them, to align them properly would cause discomfort and discord to the point of near cataclysmic proportions.

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© 2006 Christian Cloud Abraham

Posted on June 21, 2006 in
Emotion: Disgust, Type: Creative Nonfiction