Stuck.

I almost posted this as Lesson #21 [or whatever number we're on] but I decided that it deserved its own space. It's really more of something I've learned, rather than something I should "teach." The lessons are intended to be brief, anyway...

Anyone who lives in an industrial nation can tell the difference between a zipper and Velcro. Anyone. Though they're both hook-and-loop technology, they're so, so very different. To me, though, there's one distinction that stands above the rest.

How you undo them.

With Velcro, you can start anywhere and find a way to separate the two pieces. With a zipper, you're much more limited--a track of hooks guides you back the way you came. Both have their advantages and disadvantages, of course. But I'm not here to discuss the mechanics of the everyday household zipper.

Rational, forward-thinking people have a track. They hook each loop carefully, making sure that they are capable of coping with the consequences before they move on. When someone tries to undo them, it's the most recent actions that get taken apart first, and from there this "zipper" of a person has the opportunity to reflect on each step, each era of their life, to ensure they don't make the same mistake twice. Going forward again isn't difficult, either, because realigning each half is fairly simple.

The only drawback is that you must follow the track. You can't deviate. Not that there's anything wrong with following the course of your goals, but it's difficult at times to keep your eyes facing the future only.

Me? I'm Velcro. I'm haphazardly thrown together, sometimes a little bit unaligned, and able to be torn apart at any time. Any pair of capable hands can pick a part of me to destroy, and without systematically taking me back from whence I've come to allow me some reflection on the bad choices, they can rip me in half.

Is this the price I pay for straying from the path? My track became a crisscrossing pattern of intertwining hooks and loops, all leading in different directions and slowly pulling me to bits.

I used to be rational. I used to make sense when I talked. I also used to be forward-thinking, my focus lying solely on my spectacular future and all the dreams I would achieve.

Now--without any warning--I find myself erratic, scatterbrained, and desperately trying to sever my ridiculous ties to the past. Too many memories for my little mind to handle; too many far-fetched dreams and not enough accomplishment with which to create a future.

This is "me" now, I suppose. A whole lot better--trust me on that--but a little bit worse. Is it possible to be everything and nothing, all at once? Does the human mind possess the capability to think and not think simultaneously?

Either way, the zipper's broken and the Velcro's started to lose its loops. Maybe it's time to pull out the duct tape and patch what can still be patched.