Loving the mush...
I am not even sure I can write that and leave that as a title! Me, the life long sarcastic, bitchy and quick with a not so nice retort? Have I really fallen so far that I have become mushy?
I was sitting in a meeting the other day and everyone was sharing from the heart. They were talking about what gets to them, what makes them cry, what makes them love, what hurts them. In turn, each person broke down...a little. And the instant they broke down, so did I. Tears rolled down my cheeks because their pain was palatable to me. I could feel it like it was my own...
My life could be best described as chips and guacamole...(I know this is random and weird but anyone who knows me, knows this is my most perfect food lover and so should not be surprised by this analogy). Historically in this analogy, I have been the chips - hard exterior, easily cracked and broken. Delicate and delicious but precarious. I did not resemble the guac at all. However, today, I am totally the guac. It is like the universe has scooped me out of my skin and dumped me into the bowl with the rest of humanity and laid bare all my mushy insides for you to taste for yourself...
There are days when I would really like to go back to being the chips...
So as often happens, I am removed from the situation as my head takes over and I have a weird conversation with myself...
Old Me:
Guac! REALLY? You are crying? Come on! What has become of you?
New Me:
Don't call me Guac, Chips! Yes, did you see the pain flash across her face as she shared about her family? Did you see it? It was visible and she is so strong! Do you know how much strength it takes to show pain????
Old Me:
I would argue that it takes more strength to NOT show pain...
New Me:
Of course you would say that! Let’s look at that for a moment (new me is always wanting to look at things for a moment...old me hates this about me). We walked around for years and years, feeling tons and tons of pain and showed no one. Did you feel strong? Did it make the pain better?
Old Me:
No, I felt like the fact that I was feeling anything at all made me weak...so I was kind of a failure on the whole badass thing. Badasses just don’t feel...period.
New Me:
I remember feeling exactly like that...but I don’t anymore. In fact, I feel the complete opposite! My feelings are opportunities to get to know myself better and to see where I am in my life. They are not factual, they are informational. I can use them to help me and they are not something to run from and they make me feel stronger because I can own them as my own...they are me and I am them. We are one.
Old Me:
Yes I have been watching this happening to you over the past few years. And I have to say that I don’t like it or approve...
New Me:
Good thing it isn’t up to you! When you were in the driver's seat, you had us completely cordoned off from others as well as from ourselves. I couldn’t feel anything...well except anger and rage. Those I could still feel. The rest of the emotional rainbow completely out of my reach. When you are angry and pissed off all the time the only people that want to hang out with you are equally angry...so that was fun.
Old Me:
But we were safe. No one knew how soft and mushy we were on the inside!
New Me:
Was that the goal? To prove that we didn’t care, that others didn’t matter, People and feelings were unimportant...
Old Me:
Yes. That was entirely the fucking point!
New Me:
But haven't we always been mushy on the inside? Nothing is different today...we are still mushy on the inside, the difference is that we can let others see the mush.
Old Me:
While I hate to admit it, that is true...
New Me:
I can review our history together and see why you think that pretending not to feel seems safer than actually feeling. However, the reasons we began to hide the feelings have long since vanished...we just kept using it even though it prevented us from being able to have a decent, loving life.
Old Me:
Well, one never knows when some abusive asshole is going to show up and cause all kinds of bad shit to rain down...better safe than sorry.
New Me:
I think that I would rather be sorry than safe. Our kind of safe is really very lonely...
Old Me:
I really don’t like you anymore.
New Me:
It is ok. I like me and I even like you though I don’t agree with most of what you have to say these days. I can see why you are the way you are and I get it.
Old Me:
Of course you do! UGH! I can’t take much more of this dialog...it is making me feel a bit sick.
New Me:
I will stop then. I do not want the hardened unfeeling bitch to be pushed to vomit city.
Old Me:
Thanks! You are sweet.
New Me:
No problem...
So today's goal is to be both the chips and the guac and to savor the very amazing life that is happening to me everyday. Sometimes, I need the brittleness of the chips. Sometimes, I need the mushiness of the guac. Owning it in me, makes me love us both more and makes your life relatable to my life.
Now that my inner bitch has moved on, I can honestly tell you that I love the mush! I love it in you. Your internal mushy place showed me that I had one too. It was watching you that I learned about me. I learned to love you for your broken, scared and lost parts which in turn allowed me to care and love those same parts in myself! Please don’t tell the old me, if you see her, she can still pack quite a punch!
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