once upon a time, in an old and creaking house lived a limping, lumbering, mysterious creature. the creature's feet hurt from carrying the weight of five 25 pound sacks of flour under her skin. she lumbered across the cold wood, her joints echoing the creaks of the floor beneath her painful feet.
sometimes, the mysterious creature opened the flimsy windows of the shadowy house; those times the wind blew the curtains back, blew the cobwebs off the walls, and blew a bit of golden sun across the chilly rooms. the wind invited the beast outdoors, and there, one autumn afternoon, the shadows fell away from the creatures brow. she chased the little urchins back and forth the length of the lot of land (the little urchins that squeaked and squawked and whose noses oozed a clear, slippery substance, demanding to be fed and watered at all hours of the day and night, the little urchins who stole the sleep from under the creature's head, who put sand in her eyes, then leaped and bounced and bounded across the creature's stack of yellow pillows). as she chased, the pain dropped of first the right foot, and then, eased off of the left foot. her limp was lopped off with the giggles and squeals of the littlest of the urchins. the chubbiest and screechiest and softest and smoochiest of the urchins swallowed the mystery of the creature. that urchin's feast revealed a whole lot of mother, grinning ear.to.ear.
and she forgot about being so irritated at the smallest things un-urchins do or don't do.
so my story is, i have some emotion wrapped up in food that is as of yet, not clear to me. i am eating for comfort right up the scale and out of my comfort and into a scary world of hugeness that doesn't suit me in the slightest. and so, i'm cranky. and it's exhausting to beat myself up all the time. yes, i let other little irritations become more powerful than i ought. all.for.naught. what i'm trying to say is, being outside is good for me, getting crabby with someone who is operating on a different field is pointless, i don't want to get mad about food, as food is sustenance, not love. this nice crap takes practice. oh yeah, i am living in the practice ofbitchiness love.
aaaanyhoo, have a good weekend. i'm off to work. driving in the sunshine, thankyouverymuch. and, for what it's worth, if i buy spinach and chickpea patty things with you in mind, just eat the dang thing. don't eat everything else on your plate, i mean EVERY grain of rice, leaving this special thing i found just for you untouched. even though i know it doesn't mean you are being mean, i am kind of nutser than you'd first think, and it's going to BUG me. okay then.
peace, joy, and LOVE!!!!
sometimes, the mysterious creature opened the flimsy windows of the shadowy house; those times the wind blew the curtains back, blew the cobwebs off the walls, and blew a bit of golden sun across the chilly rooms. the wind invited the beast outdoors, and there, one autumn afternoon, the shadows fell away from the creatures brow. she chased the little urchins back and forth the length of the lot of land (the little urchins that squeaked and squawked and whose noses oozed a clear, slippery substance, demanding to be fed and watered at all hours of the day and night, the little urchins who stole the sleep from under the creature's head, who put sand in her eyes, then leaped and bounced and bounded across the creature's stack of yellow pillows). as she chased, the pain dropped of first the right foot, and then, eased off of the left foot. her limp was lopped off with the giggles and squeals of the littlest of the urchins. the chubbiest and screechiest and softest and smoochiest of the urchins swallowed the mystery of the creature. that urchin's feast revealed a whole lot of mother, grinning ear.to.ear.
and she forgot about being so irritated at the smallest things un-urchins do or don't do.
so my story is, i have some emotion wrapped up in food that is as of yet, not clear to me. i am eating for comfort right up the scale and out of my comfort and into a scary world of hugeness that doesn't suit me in the slightest. and so, i'm cranky. and it's exhausting to beat myself up all the time. yes, i let other little irritations become more powerful than i ought. all.for.naught. what i'm trying to say is, being outside is good for me, getting crabby with someone who is operating on a different field is pointless, i don't want to get mad about food, as food is sustenance, not love. this nice crap takes practice. oh yeah, i am living in the practice of
aaaanyhoo, have a good weekend. i'm off to work. driving in the sunshine, thankyouverymuch. and, for what it's worth, if i buy spinach and chickpea patty things with you in mind, just eat the dang thing. don't eat everything else on your plate, i mean EVERY grain of rice, leaving this special thing i found just for you untouched. even though i know it doesn't mean you are being mean, i am kind of nutser than you'd first think, and it's going to BUG me. okay then.
peace, joy, and LOVE!!!!
5 comments:
what do you think of this quote, "One of the things that is so charming about children is that they know they are powerless. They know they have no choices, so they are defenseless. It is only when we start believing in our own power and feeling we are in charge that we need to protect ourselves, that we need to be cautious and smart. And then we lose the innocence."
- Cheri Huber
Love you! Hope I get to see you soon, we can have a lively and loving nutser-off ;)
got it -jr
You, you, you. I wish you could see yourself as I do. Which is quite beautious.
*hand on heart sigh for you and your story*
You are such a storyteller. I feel like I am sitting at your feet. (Also, clearly great minds think alike. ;)
hope the mama is still grinning ear.to.ear
~ann b.
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