Food hangovers are the worst.
Okay, that's a lie. There are worse hangovers. But I really dislike food hangovers. But I should remember that I am a fucking privileged white chick living in a great part of the United States and that I can afford to buy healthy food and eat it whenever I fucking want.
Goodness, the Spike brings out the f-bombs in me, now doesn't it? It does.
Lately I feel like I have been stuck stuck stuck in this cloudiness of me me me. Okay, so there's this mandala. And at the center of this mandala is me. And each circle radiating out is something/someone to protect ME. And the Me Mandala grows and grows and grows and I shrink and shrink and shrink into my own cloudy, critical, contradicting mind.
And that's all. There's probably a "solution" to this, right? I need to replace the "me" at the center with a "you," but also a "me" so that I don't forget about myself and put my own needs last. So does that mean I put an "us" at the center? Or maybe a "jesUS"? It should be me at the center with a perspective switch. I should switch from self-preservation to self-compassion and general compassion for all sentient beings. I really do believe in that shit (by "shit" I mean "compassionate living" - I have such soft language).
But I'll admit it. I'm struggling. I don't think I can feel complete compassion (complete compassion? is that a thing/possible?) where I'm at right now. I am talking about where I am at physically. I believe I need to go out there and experience a non-privileged white chick life where buying and eating healthy food is an extreme luxury and a distant memory. I want to give myself to others and listen. I want to care more than I do now. It's somewhere buried in me - or maybe it has never been planted? No, it has been planted. The seed of compassion is always there. Let's just fucking water that shit, shall we?!