Why Is the Answer the Same to So Many Questions?
The questions span the spectrum.
How much tutoring for a focus-challenged eight-year old is too much? Should I get botox? Is it better to try and be balanced or accept being crazy? Why can’t Nike make cool shoes for girls with duck feet? Is shooting anonymous spitballs at people you’re upset with bad form?
The questions vary wildly. The answer, unfortunately, is always the same.
Sometimes with sea salt. Sometimes ginger. Sometimes, even some cayenne pepper. And always with a pint of something vanilla and frozen. Why can’t the answer ever be a nice plate of kale or a small handful of raw unsalted cashews? Or a 5K run in sub-zero temperatures???
Normally, I barely notice the glaring singularity of my answer. But, occasionally, the overindulgence of excuses and blame bulges into muffin-top proportion and I’m forced to pay attention.
BUT, due to my new-found commitment to discipline being the answer to freedom, I am abstaining from the kind of ongoing grazing that results in cow-like consumption.
Don’t get me wrong. I have some form of chocolate everyday. It is essentially a food group for me.
But, one piece (even a fairly generous one) provides no solace or solution.This puts me in the unenviable position of attempting to be truthful with myself about what is really bothering me. Uggghhh and grrrrr. I try to sidestep it at the gym, even run errands around it– extremely effective tactics but annoyingly temporary.
This means no longer feeding into the worry loop of I need to be a better parent or the circular angst of feeling betrayed and abandoned by a friend, the educational system, our contractor, my body… you name it.
I have forbidden myself the luxury of avoiding the issue by complaining to friends or family, (if they don’t pick up after seven to ten tries). And eventually the sadness, rage, self-pity or whatever it is tires itself out. The momentum expires.
And I am left asking a different kind of question.
Not about the other person or the situation. In fact, not about anything external at all. I am left asking the anger or grief or disgust what it wants from me. The emotions differ but the question is always the same. And the answer is always fulfilling. And tastes like truth.
Relax your grip. This is my message today.
It isn’t a new message. But I’m so afraid of not being smart enough, of failing my children in small cumulative ways, of not getting it. Sometimes I grip so hard I lose track of what I’m trying to hold on to and why.
Especially when it comes to those tasty dark chocolate with almonds and sea salt Chocolove bars.