black folk have always mused that the shortest month of the year is the one they were given to celebrate their history, and there they are, sharing it with a groundhog and a a couple of dead presidents...
February is the coldest month of the year on average. It is the definition of bleak and throughout its days it holds all of us captive to its malaise. We've fully digressed from our holiday high, hitting bottom and reaching for anything that will give us hope, like, say, a groundhog's skill of prognostication...
i, instead, am reminded of one Ned Ryerson. The annoying ghost of times past that Phil Connors meets over and over again in the film Groundhog Day. Ned is representative of the fears, and hurdles we face. For me, February is one big hurdle. Annually i sink further inward. Cold, and disaffected by the barren wasteland before me. Creatively i shut down...
this page has sat silent for the better part of the year. This is how it starts, an unwillingness to see things to their end, that's January, until a slow, dull stagger comes to a full stop. Ned Ryerson, rearing his ugly head...
Phil, after several replays of the meeting with Ned, finally seems to master the event with aplomb, even employing Ned to his advantage. The lesson is clear, after years of falling prey to the claws of February, to Ned, the time has come to use it to my advantage...
meet the new Ned, here's to making sure he isn't the same as the old Ned...
1 comment:
Watch out for that first step. It's a doozy!
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