Home of the Reluctant Midlifer. This is where I rant, rave, reflect, and ROFLMAO. Feel free to do the same. Let's be clear: I am irreverent, and I like me that way. Grab a libation, kick back, and share your thoughts -- and don't lie, cuz I'll know.
I'm listening to myself. It's not as easy as one might think, since the gray matter is more of a verdant sage and regularly gallivants all over the place. I'm a gregarious sort—kind of odd for a writer, I guess, but I balance my solitary and social lives. Yet even when I insist my mind be contemplative, the verdant sage can shush me in deference to her interest du jour. That can be anything from "Where do I fit in the universe?" to "What will that hunky guy on Grey's Anatomy do next?" Plenty to visualize and distract there!
Where was I, McSteamy? Oh, yeah, my mind and my heart are in touch and in sync, so my soul is happy. They know what I need and what I don't. Occasionally the two tussle over something that looks more appetizing than it is, but only to the degree that each wants to be heard and held in equal esteem—not unlike a romantic relationship. Mind and Heart trust each other—advantageous since they plan on sinking as one with the ship. Body is cool, but she's pissed that Mind and Heart are giggling at her muffin top. They're trying to include her more, but she's a groaner and they'd rather she take it to the gym. Soul is turning a blind eye on that one.
So, I've been listening to Mind and Heart especially closely the last few days. Listening for cracks in logic, for whispers of disquietude, for magical thinking or rebellion without cause. I'm reaffirmed that I'm clear on who I am, where I've been, and, insofar as one can predict the future, where I'm headed—with or without another life partner. For that is the issue. Needing a partner is different from just wanting one; and the fact is I've been on my own enough to know I sometimes don’t want one, and I definitely don't need one.
In the last week I've realized that some people who really do love me are nevertheless looking at me through a lens that shows all my exes hanging like 50-pound dumbbells around my neck. They have lost sight of me and seem to see my experiences as the encapsulation of me. They are fearful of my decisions, which speaks to a lack of faith in me. And that sucks. Heart is in a tizzy over it, so Mind is doing all the heavy lifting right now, reminding me that these loved ones just want the best for me. Soul is incredibly grateful that they care, but then she retreats to a neutral corner to find zen and says, Whatever.
By the standards of the culture I was born into, the rule is one cake per person. A second, maybe. But going back for thirds? Are you kidding? Think of what you're putting your body through and, gosh, there must be something deeply wrong if you couldn't even finish the first two! Don't dare broach a fourth because that's just like hanging out at the all-you-can-eat-buffet and wouldn't you rather just not eat for awhile? Learn to be happy and content without cake?
I've had three cakes and a few cookies over the years. They were all delish but in the end gave me excruciating heartburn for which there was no cure. For a variety of reasons that only someone who has walked in my shoes and ingested the kind of cakes I have could understand, I chose to give them up. Cue disposal. Still with me in this metaphorical batter? Some day, I'd like a new cake, extra creamy and with nuts. But my life will be complete without cake because I am indeed happy with myself by myself. Loved ones across the planet may now rest.
Ah geez, Body is making a big stink about getting something to eat—for reals. Mind and Heart are way ahead of her, so off we go with Soul's blessing. Naturally, they giggle mercilessly cuz Body is bringing up the rear. Shhh, she'll hear you!