Thank You, Linda

I have a personal — and hitherto private — mantra which I will share with you. It consists of two little words which I utilize in their most literal sense whenever I am stuck in place for one reason or another.

In my last column, "The Agony and The Ecstasy" (May 1988), I described my excruciating torment in producing a monthly column as well as the matchless benefits that accrue when the finished work is finally in print.

That was several months ago, and I fully intended to continue with my regular monthly writing. But it was not to be, for reasons I cannot fully fathom.

In setting forth how arduous the writing was for me ("... the most difficult undertaking of my life...."), perhaps I tapped into a vein of painful memory which acted as a deterrent.

Possibly the palpable distress of my friend Stuart at the sudden loss of his father turned my thoughts away from the temporal. His absence to be with his family in their time of bereavement divested me of both my peerless gadfly and emender.

Isn't it also axiomatic that distractions proliferate when a difficult task lies ahead?

Whatever the reason, the weeks and months flew by, column-less. All the while I upbraided myself that I must be getting back to it — ever in a fainter voice, however. I savored the freedom of not tortuously hacking out a monthly column and the attendant benefit of less anxieties and more unfettered time.

Yet there was a gnawing void, a psychic disquietude that informed me that there was something essential missing in my life, and that in my quiescence I was not taking the easy way out but not the most worthy.

But apathy and inertia, though they are words denoting passivity, are nevertheless powerful forces in our lives. I had lost my writing momentum along with the requisite self-discipline it took to extricate myself from the encompassing torpor.

Some people are self-starters. I am not one of them.

Neither was there any point in seeking to be miraculously rescued: No deus ex machina or other divine intervention was on the horizon to write my column for me. There never is.

My dissatisfaction became so unsettling that I finally called upon a personal catalyst to save me. It is something I use sparingly and only when otherwise unable to proceed.

It had its genesis about 15 years ago, during a period when I was in therapy. It was a time in my life when I was no longer faced with overwhelming personal problems and I sought to change and improve on some of my less admirable traits and tendencies. Having won the battle of survival, I wished to reconnoiter the areas of finding the "Better Me."

By chance I was fortunate enough to find a young woman psychologist whom I came to respect and trust. We worked well together and I gained fresh insights during my year with her.

It was she who introduced me to my mantra.

On several occasions when asked by her to try something new, behaviorally, I replied, "I can't." And I truly meant it.

She would smile sweetly and say, "Force yourself."

Reluctantly and fearfully I did, solely on faith and without the stultifying accompanying deliberation which is my wont.

The fears of the unknown which had prevented my trying something different were never realized. Yet, so deeply entrenched were the established behavior patterns that each new step was accomplished only by literally forcing myself to act. On each subsequent occasion I had the same immobilizing fear of consequences — even though they never materialized. Only blind trust in my therapist's wise exhortation propelled me.

It was and still is never easy. When bogged down by inertia or fear while knowing that there is something essential that needs to be done, I conjure up Linda's sweet refrain of "Force yourself," and do just that.

Without it, this column would still be in gestation rather than in print.

Old habits and behavior patterns are unbearably hard to displace. It is distressing to me that each new movement requires such a tremendous inner struggle, and yet I am grateful for those two little words that help me move when stuck in place.

"Force yourself" might be deemed an illegitimate offspring of the self-actualization creed. It is an unconventional mantra as such things go; yet, simple as it sounds, it does work for me.

So few people fulfill their potential. Most of us remain mired in mediocrity though capable of better. The underachievers outnumber the overachievers by far, both in objective accomplishment and in personal growth; and, it is this inability to change, when change unquestionably is called for, which is often the culprit. Whatever can help achieve change and create movement is to be treasured.

For those who acknowledge their lack of fulfillment, are not pleased about it, and aspire to move on though engulfed by fear or inertia, I bequeath my mantra, "Force yourself."

Such a leap of faith may help bridge the distance between where you are and where you want to be.