As I read Steven Pressfield's book, the War of Art, I get this message: Our greatest downfall, the one thing our muse will not tolerate, is our pride.
I look back on my almost 50 years almost with amusement. When I got that feeling in my chest that I was actually somebody, that "People just didn't quite understand how wonderful I was..." feeling - I was headed for a fall. And fall I did. The fall wasn't too bad, but that hard stop at the end of it was rather uncomfortable.
Milton wrote in his book "Paradise Lost" about how Satan fell for 9 days before he and his cohorts hit rock bottom. A nine day fall! The reason? Pride. Somehow, the #2 guy in Heaven didn't think he was getting enough credit. Long way down from there, pal. In some metaphorical ways, I've shared some of that journey to the fiery pits, though not as far, not as deep and not as hot.
So for me, I reflect my falls and the sudden stop of reality often. During one of these falls, my ego was badly bruised, almost killed, but never quite.
So as I look to the future, I will be wise to work hard, think deeply, give all I can, serve God and mankind and remain humble.
If I don't remain humble, then I can look forward to another long fall and another hard very stop at the end.
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