The Rewind Button

by Tristi Pinkston

I was boppin' along tonight, working on my current project, when I hit up against a wall. I couldn't figure out how to describe where my character was standing. She's hiding behind the curtains, but she's not really in the window well, because that's outside, and I couldn't pull out any words that seemed right. I stared at the screen for a minute, then typed(reword this later) and went on. I finished the scene and kept going. I'll come back to that spot tomorrow and phrase it the way I want to, and then it will flow. Tonight, I'm tired, and the language isn't happening for me.

I dislike to edit my own work, but this is one way in which editing is da bomb. You can go back as many times as you like and fix what you said. If it sounds unkind, or if it didn't come across as professionally as you would have liked, or if it didn't carry enough power, you can go back and make it work. I sure wish real life worked that way.

I can't tell you how many times I've wished for a rewind button or a delete key on my mouth. Sometimes things come out and are received in a way I never intended, and I want to crawl under a rock. The main problem with that - there aren't a lot of rocks just lying around that are large enough for a person to crawl under, and if I could find one, I'm pretty sure someone would already be under it.

It's human nature to make mistakes, and it's also human nature to want to hide from them. But we've also been given two wonderful gifts - repentance and forgiveness. We can make things right, and we can move forward. Sometimes a scar will remain, a memory of something that took place, but we can choose whether or not to pick at the scab. Life might not come with a rewind button, but it does come with never-ending chances to try again.