Apologies for the Short Silence (Again)...

For me, writing cursive is like riding a bike. I'm not referring to the skill aspect.
There are deep-rooted childhood memories locked up in both practices.
I should write about them. Not today, though.

Slips, not slides. That is my new mantra. Whenever I come up short, I say this phrase to myself. Spent a day without exercising, or going for a walk? No worries, it's just a slip. Ate a pint of Ben & Jerry's Mint Chocolate Cookie?  Again, a slip up. Consumed twelve Ferrero Rocher Hazelnut chocolates, in addition to the ice cream? Okay, that's more like sliding. Missed a week of blogging? We're back to a s slip. We can recover quickly from slipping, but stopping and recouping from a sliding can be debilitating. 

A couple of months back, I read a memoir--a genre that is unfamiliar to me. Yes, strange for someone who loves history as much as I do. Well, let's face it, modern memoirs have become another means of reinforcing branding for celebrities. Just another source of fame and income. Or, experiments in vanity for the layperson. And for some amateur writers, their first foray into publishing. Whatever the reason for someone producing a memoir, I tend to avoid them. However, while listening to a podcast from a YA author (yet another group of books I don't experience often), who was describing a dozen memoirs she "read" recently (most of the works she listened to through audiobooks--it is not reading, but I that is a discussion for another day), mentioned an interesting titled.

I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy.

She was a former Nickelodeon star. My daughters kind of remember her. I had to Google the name. She had a rough life. From a young age, she wanted to write. Her mom wanted to act. The mother never achieved her goal, so she lived through her daughter. The mom also had an eating disorder, which she directly passed on to her child. Trust me, by the end, you understand the title. 

For me, the memoir was moving and inspiring. There is so much I want to say about it, but this is no that post. Instead, I will focus on a smaller, but just as powerful, scene from the book. Jennette McCurdy is speaking with a counselor about her bulimia. She had just thrown up, after managing a few days (perhaps a week), of not vomiting. She hates herself; she wants to give up. Her counselor, however, reminds her of a rule: slips are okay, it's slides we want to avoid.

Sometimes a habit has been experienced for so long, it becomes second nature, almost like breathing. To not do it, even when it is not warranted, seems more awkward, even dangerous. That vast majority of people will not stop such a habit cold turkey. It will take a lot of time and effort. To know and understand that slip ups are natural, and part of the relearning process, is powerful. Counterintuitively, it can set you free in order work harder at doing better. 

Not blogging last week was a slip. However, I did not hate myself for it. And so, sitting down tonight, after meandering through a lazy Sunday, and typing this up, came easier to me. 

I'll take these little victories.