Why doesn't he move? It doesn't hurt enough yet.
I recently read The Art of Asking: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let People Help by Amanda Palmer.
You may know Amanda Palmer from her roll in the Dresdon Dolls, her amazingly successful Ted Talk The Art of Asking, or any of her other myriad of creative outlets. Personally, I was introduced to her musical work at an early age from my rebellious older sister.
The Art of Asking is full of fascinating stories from Amanda's life but a single tale has stuck with me so much so that I have repeatedly found myself poorly recounting the dog on a nail story over the past couple of weeks.
Here it is verbatim:
A farmer is sitting on his porch in a chair, hanging out. A friend walks up to the porch to say hello, and hears an awful yelping, squealing sound coming from inside the house.
"What's that terrifyin' sound?" asks the friend. "It's my dog," said the farmer. "He's sittin' on a nail." "Why doesn't he just sit up and get off it?" asks the friend. The farmer deliberates on this and replies:
"Doesn't hurt enough yet.”
How often have you been every character in this story? From the all knowing farmer looking onto a situation to the dog precariously perched on the nail.
More often than I would like to admit I am simultaneously all three characters in the story;
- I have the farmers knowledge that of why I am "in pain" but the wisdom to realise that I don't have enough motivation to change it yet.
- I am also the dog who foolishly plants my butt on the only nail protruding from the otherwise comfortable floorboards.
- And I am the friend who looks on the situation with an earnest misunderstanding of the whole thing.
What nails are you sitting on?
All of the images used in this blog post are from Unsplash. This is an awesome resource for finding free, high resolution image - check it out.