Suppose one is thrown from one’s horse. There is a period, perhaps, of being dragged behind the horse, with one foot stuck in the stirrup. Then, a period of sitting on the ground in a cloud of dust, feeling dazed and disoriented. Then, perhaps, a period of feeling one’s head, and moving each finger and toe to make sure they are still attached, in preparation for standing up, with a grunt. Then one must look for ones horse, shielding the eyes from the sun, and squinting into the distance. There. The pursuit of the horse begins. Once the saddle is regained, there may be a period where the rider is clinging on, canted slightly to one side, but hardly in control: wide-eyed and galloping, it may occur to the rider that the scene is ridiculous, and, specifically, that the scene makes them look ridiculous, and, in the interest of propriety, it would be best to let go of the whole idea of getting back in the saddle, and instead, to accept defeat, and walk, but walk in dignity.

My point is: dignity, at times, is less important than clinging on, and continuing to go in the direction you were heading, even it creates, briefly, a source of amusement for passers-by. Re-starting a habit feels a bit like trying to get back on a horse that’s run away from under you. It’s an awkward process. To succeed, you must try, and trying doesn’t always look hip.

Fortunately, looking hip is optional.