Not For Sissies/my first and only concussion

Today, I took a long, hard look at the flaws in my character that I want to change.
Then, I took a long, hard look at when exactly I became aware of these flaws.
Then, I took a long, hard look at what progress I have or haven't made, since becoming aware of each of them.
Then, I admitted to myself all of the excuse-labels I give my flaws, how I explain away their continued existence. 
Then, I vividly imagined what my life, my marriage, my relationship with my future children, and my contribution to the world will look like if I never fix these flaws. 
And then I realized that exercises like the one above, that I did today, are not for sissies. They are almost unbearably painful and humiliating. It reminded me of my first, and only, concussion.


My elementary school had great monkey bars that were high, wide, and far apart from each other. From a raised wooden platform, one could jump to the even-higher bars and monkey-swing one's way across. 


I lived nearby and used to play there at every recess with my friends, and then after school with my older brother and his friends. From the high wooden platform, I watched as my brother and his friends would jump to the farthest monkey bars they could reach- sometimes the 3rd, rarely the 4th, and once I even saw Juan (this was so remarkable in my eyes that I remember his name, 14 years later) jump to the 5th. 


At recess one day, long since having mastered the 3rd monkey-bar jump, I resolved that today was the day I would reach the 4th. I gathered my courage, quieted my doubts, crouched on the platform, extended my arms, and flew out across the wood-chipped playground, towards the 4th bar. 


The cool iron of the 4th bar brushing my fingertips was one of the last sensations I remember. 


The momentum of my jump caused my body to flip- in other words, my flight began with my legs behind me, but they gradually had moved below me, in front of me, and then above my head, for my final descent, head-first, into the wood-chips. It was a minor concussion. I woke up seconds later to the playground monitor, Mrs. Weatherbee, saying 'Are you awake?! Are you okay?!' And I laid in the nurse's office for the remainder of the school day. 


Today, I took a very long, hard look at my shortcomings. This sort of long, hard looking will, with G-d's help,bring me closer to becoming who I am meant to become, but-


I know that if I am not careful, the pain and shame that can come out of this long, hard looking could work against me to block my growth, which is like falling face-first into the wood-chips in the process of leaping for the bar...