Have you ever found yourself stuck in somewhere you don’t want to be stuck, and thought: how am I here again?

Maybe you told yourself it wasn’t your fault, and maybe it wasn’t. But still, there you were, back in that place you didn’t want to be, fighting feelings of frustration or shame. We often fall into unhelpful patterns over time. Sometimes we defend these patterns because the alternative, which is seeing our own role in it, feels harder.

In therapy, and in life, there’s a turning point that often begins not with action, but with honesty. With saying: ‘I’m in a hole again, and part of me knew I would be’.
There’s a short poem, often used in therapeutic settings, that captures this idea. Called Autobiography in Five Short Chapters by Portia Nelson, it outlines the journey of a person repeatedly encountering the same obstacle: a deep hole in
the footpath.

Now, I know poetry isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but please stick with me. It’s a short, simple poem and one that often moves people who don’t usually read poetry.

In chapter one, the person is overwhelmed and unaware. She falls into a deep hole in the footpath and feels powerless. It ‘isn’t my fault’. At this stage, falling into the hole seems like something that just happens to her. She gets out, but it takes ‘forever’.
In chapter two, she walks down the same street and says she still doesn’t see the hole. She falls in again. The frustration and disbelief (‘I can’t believe I am in the same place!’) is familiar to anyone who’s tried to change and found themselves falling into old, familiar patterns. 

Again, it ‘isn’t my fault’. There is a change in chapter three. She sees the hole on the same street, and falls in anyway. It’s an all-too-human thing: you know you shouldn’t fall in, but you still do. However, this time she takes responsibility, saying it’s ‘habit’ and ‘my fault’. Not in a self-blaming way, but there is a tone of recognition. She knows where she is, and because of that, she gets out quickly. This is where change begins, with awareness and honesty.

By chapter four, she has learned how to step around the hole. She still walks down the same street, living the same life, experiencing the same pressures, but no longer falls in. She knows the terrain, knows the holes she must avoid. It doesn’t mean the temptation or the pain is gone, but the pattern no longer controls her.

New street

The last chapter is very brief, just one single line: ‘I walk down a different street’. A new street, a different path. By now, not only does she know where the hole is, she no longer needs to walk that street at all. 

As mentioned earlier, this poem is widely used by therapists because it captures the slow, imperfect nature of real change, and the self-awareness that comes with it. It helps us see our patterns without judgment, reminding us that even repeated mistakes can be part of progress.

Many people find something personal in this story and relate to it. It may resonate with people who have struggled with addiction, but it can also be about self-sabotage, how we handle conflict, the roles we play in relationships, or even how we talk to ourselves when things go wrong.

There’s no moralising, no sentimentality, no triumphant claim that change is easy. Instead, the poem offers a quieter kind of hope: that even if you fall in again and again, even if you don’t see the hole coming until you’re already halfway down, you can still get out. And eventually, you can walk a different way.
Maybe today you’re in chapter two, or maybe you’re climbing out quicker than you used to. Wherever you are, it’s part of the story, not the end of it.