The hole in the sidewalk

Adapted from a text by Portia Nelson (in Stories for the Heart): 

â–  I walk along the street. There is a hole in the sidewalk. I am distracted, thinking about myself, and fall inside. I feel lost, unhappy and incapable of asking for help. It wasn’t my fault, but the ones who dug that hole there. I feel disgusted, I am a victim of the irresponsibility of others, and I spend a great amount of time in there.

â–  I walk along the street. There is a hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don’t see it, that’s not my problem. I fall in there again. I can’t believe that happened once again, I should have learnt the lesson and sent someone to close the hole. It takes a long time for me to get out of there.

â–  I walk along the street. There is a hole in the sidewalk. I see it. I know it is there because I fell in there twice. However, I am someone used to always take the same path. Due to that, I fall into the hole for the third time; it’s the habit.

â–  I walk along the street. There is a hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it. Soon after I pass the hole, I hear someone yelling “” he must have fallen into the hole. The street is closed and I can’t go on.

â–  I walk along the street. There is a hole in the sidewalk. I put a fence around it. I can go on my way and no one will fall in there again.