Why Am I Not Wiser By Now?
You would think after all I’ve been through in my life I’d be smarter, more serene, more “together”. I mean the first book I remember really reading was Don’t Fall Off the Mountain by Shirley MacLaine. I was reading about Buddhism at 7 years old and getting tangled up in my mind with the circular question of “if God made everything who made God?”. What a weird kid!
My cousin taught me Morse code and chess and not to be afraid of snakes and bugs. Even today my husband screams like a little girl over spiders and I sigh, put them in a glass and toss them outside for him. Although to be fair please do not get anywhere near me with a real maggot or even a mention of one. Blech!
At sixteen I dove into all religions and mystical experiences. Not all of them were drug related but let’s be honest – some were. I still study religions, spirituality and all things self-improvement. I miss Oprah. Hell I even miss Phil Donahue! Dr. Phil needs to get over himself, if he’s even still on the air.
So my point is I should know better than to spend a weekend grinding gears in my head over other people’s chaos. I should know better than to sit in a professional meeting today and argue and roll my eyes. To my eternal shame I believe I may have even whined a time or two.
I use all the things I’ve learned to stay peaceful plenty of times on a daily basis. I journal and breathe deep. I read inspiring materials and count to ten and yet when a real sustained stress level comes on for more than a day or two I dissolve into my familiar bad place of flying the self-pity flag and rockin a real bad attitude.
Did I mention the whining?
Like suddenly I’m 5 years old and my mom won’t take me to go see Lady and the Tramp again. Yeah yeah I’m that old. I did see it in the theater.
I’m not sure what my point of this blog is. Maybe seeking to find out if I’m the only one who reverts to snotty toddler-hood under stress (I know I’m not). Maybe I’m looking for validation or some kind of motivation or…dear God…could I just be creatively finding another place to whine?
Saints preserve us! Better go count to ten or maybe eat some ice cream. Maybe both.