“It’s good to be able to name the pooch.”

I’d just shared a situation with my friend. Rambling on, trying to explain how I’d been caught—alone and afraid—in a circumstance and I could find a way out.

She is brilliant. It was a military saying: to screw the pooch. It’s a way to describe things gone wrong—disgraceful and mortifying—maybe even with good intentions but seriously wrong.

I am wrestling with a new circumstance—the hits keep on coming—and I’m working through the layers.

SOMETHING is wrong. I am getting the clues and forming suspicions but it’s foggy and not in my control.

I can feel the wrongness, and I’m not sure if I can stop it. Am I screwing up? Or if I flip it over, am I witnessing something being screwed?

Feeling gross and uncomfortable, I am not sure.

I find comfort in being the one to blame. Yes, the mortification would land on me. But if I’m the problem, I can start on the solution right now. I am in control and my actions could fix the problem., I can shift and get things moving the way I want.

I wrote about the trouble I was having with math last week. Last week’s pooch was math. I wrestled that one into control and another pooch showed up.

I am working through the layers of figuring things out. I know it’s not right and I’m still not sure how to get through to the core of the issue. I am trying, and I am not sure the problem is me. I’ve been playing with that idea and it doesn’t seem to fit.

Once I decide the trouble isn’t me, I could release the idea that I have to grapple it into submission. If the problem isn’t for me to fight, it could be something that will change without as much effort. It could change like the weather, The wind could die down and the sun come shining through.

That happens. And if I were still stuck trying to understand the nature of the pooch I might miss that the struggle—the pooch—had moved on. What exactly would be screwed then?

Me, probably.

Things do change. The sooner I figure out what call that pooch and how to stop the screwing the better for me.