Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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0 Comments:Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Wednesday, February 18, 2004 We didn’t get the snow. We were gypped. We were robbed! We have to go to work today. The entire staff was utterly eight years old all day yesterday. This is why I hate weather reports. They’re so couched in disasterese everybody gets twisted into knots, oh - say - about every half hour. ”The storm of the century is on the way and wind-chill factors will assure that you will die within 47 seconds if you haven’t stocked up on toilet paper and flashlight batteries.” Prefaced by ”there’s a 40% chance that this will happen” So there we were, three women who will never see 50 again, staring out the window at pretty white flurries, our hearts longing for the inter-com to come on, with the principal’s voice telling us that busses will begin loading at quarter after. All for naught, too. The flurries flurried, the kids got out about an hour early, and I did get in the grocery shopping at lunch, at the cost of my gym workout. I warned the knitting students that if it was snowing I’d postpone the class. Of course, it snowed all day. But in the end, there’s only the lightest dusting on the ground, the forecast for today is sunshine and 40's and tomorrow, sunshine and 50's. And as I got more and more twisted and disappointed that I wasn’t going to get to go home early - it hit me that if we hadn’t had the forecast of snow and the possibility of goofing off a bit - I’d have been thrilled that it was Tuesday and knitting lesson day and WW meeting. Man - we can sure act stupid sometimes. So I did go to the WW meeting and did go by the school where I’m teaching - and everyone was there, but nobody had her knitting so we rescheduled for tonight. But I feel really silly for wasting a perfectly happy day longing for something that I didn’t really care if I got. What is it about wanting things - why do we lust for stuff we don’t really want? What makes us shop when our closets are full, eat when are tummies are stuffed, sit through bad television shows? Why is it so easy to give my life away to things that don’t feed my soul. Worse yet - why do I starve myself of the very things that transport me to a spiritual paradise? I know what those things are. I love doing them - they’re not just things that will make me feel good later - when I look back on having done them. ImportantInformation is seriously knocking on the old brain here. It is all of a piece with something that happened on Monday when I was having lunch with Jen and two other knitting women. We’d eaten a delicious meal and I was absolutely perfectly content with exactly what I’d eaten. And then we bought deserts. Now - I like deserts as well as the next person. I like to have what I like. But where is it carved into the stone of my brain that every meal has to be followed by desert? Because I ate one along with everyone else, even though I was absolutely not either hungry nor desirous of the sugar fix. I just ate desert because I did. Because it was there. Because other people were having desert. And not only did I not particularly enjoy it - not to say that it was a bad experience - just - “eh” - but also later I did feel sort of crummy because then I was stuffed and had too much sugar coursing through the old blood veins. I mean - Why couldn’t I have just stopped when I was just right? Hellowoh? Isn’t it time to start living my life? I’m thinking here that I really could enjoy just doing those things the body tells me it wants to do. Not just the body, either. The spirit, the intellect, the soul all deserve to be listened to, responded to, even obeyed. Perhaps it’s time to commit to the daily life I want to live - time to be present, instead of buzzing out of the present with some silly longing for something I never really wanted. To slow down, listen to the truth I know is within me, and then act from that truth. Hmmm. Feels like a watershed moment. posted by Bess | 5:44 AM |
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