Happy Sunday! What if I was a preacher? I'm currently not a preacher, but there are surprises in life that we never see coming. Other possible Meg careers that one would never suspect me to have: car salesman, infomercial person, CEO, judge.
Happy Meg has been a constant for awhile now. "Awhile" might only be a week, but that week seems like an eternity. I feel myself, however, slipping back into Grumpy Meg. I should remind myself that it's normal for humans to go through valleys and peaks with emotions. As the ancient Arabs said, "Sunshine all the time makes a desert." True, true. Rain brings growth, storms make roots deepen, la la la la la. We've heard this before. But it just feels so gooooood to ride on that happy wave.
Do not get me wrong, buttercups. I am not sad sad. I just catch myself falling back into unhealthy patterns. "Oh, so remember that big salad with the liberal amount of dressing you had for lunch? What if you just run, say, an extra ten minutes today? Come on. You used to run way more than that..." "Hmmm. Your pants are fitting a bit tighter. Maybe you should skip breakfast tomorrow? You probably won't be hungry anyway." "You know you are probably more creative when not full, right? Think of what you could accomplish as a 'starving artist'!"
THAT'S Ed's voice, folks. Subtle. Hinting. Nudging. Often I don't even recognize he is talking. But that bastard talks. Constantly. And I listen. Attentively. I become submissive and obedient. I hardly question what is suggested. It's imperative, however, that I begin questioning. I need to raise my voice above a whisper. I need to be assertive -- although with Ed I might have to become aggressive. Li'l Hippie Meg is a pacifist, sure, but she is also a fighter. She is a contradiction! She contains multitudes! She also contains that damn voice that tells her to do damn stupid stuff. Don't listen to it, Meggie. Go listen to some Native American flute music instead! That always calms those sweet nerves of yours.
"Nerves of yours" is a challenging phrase to say. Is it? Or is my tongue just swollen because of my anemia? Anemia! Eating disorder! Emotions! I want to step very far away from these subjects for a bit. I want to go, like, work in a soup kitchen or play pinochle with the elderly. (I spelled it "peeknuckle" on my first try. Is this an appropriate time to use "LOL"?) In other words, it would be wise for me to balance out the time I spend trapped in my head/issues with some good old fashioned service.
Let me serve you! Let me serve you some sunshine with that desert you're having. Let me serve you some rain, some roots, and then a healthy dose of relaxation. You deserve the service. You deserve to raise your voice if you happen to find a fly in your soup. Give yourself a break -- and I'll do the same.