Good LORD, what the hell was that? I have absolutely no excuse for that last blog post. Or, at least for not putting ***TMI WARNING*** in the header. Sheesh.
Well, if you read all of that and are still coming back... congratulations, you ARE a masochist. Literarily speaking, at least. But, hopefully today's (and future ones) won't be as fraught if they aren't actually helpful for a change.
Writing that... well, it took me a long time. Over twenty-four hours, to tell the truth. Some of that is I have all the blazing speed at the keyboard of a herd of snails. Ten words per minute is a good day. Some of it was that I would have to stop and give my hands and arms a break and try to get the feeling back in them.
And some of it was that I would get interrupted with side discussions from time to time. Which, don't get me wrong, was awesome! Always, always, always glad to hear from someone that thinks I'm worth spending the time to chat with. Unfortunately not enough went on to completely distract me and stop me from inflicting that ream of...er... stuff on the world, or at least readers of my blog, yesterday.
But, there was something odd that kept coming back around that I thought maybe I might could do a little something with. Actually, the idea, the concept had been circling the drain of my mind for a long, long time. But, it was just weird how often it came up during the twenty-four hours I was typing on that... that... thing that posted yesterday. ***shudder***
Well, maybe it's time to flush.
So, a while back, I remember reading in someone's blog, "real men make your panties wet, not your eyes." (Sorry. I would credit you, if you're seeing this, but I can't remember where, and can't find it again.)
At the time I read it, I smiled. I thought it was funny, but also a goal worth shooting for. However, I also know enough to know that just being open enough to care about someone is going to open us up to pain. In my own case, I know that Love never meant to hurt me. But, she did. Several times. Dying was only the most recent. When she was sick, it hurt me. When she was hurting, it hurt me. When she was just having a bad day. When she was cut, I bled.
And I think that is how it should be. If you really love somebody.
But!
But, yeah. I think the sentiment expressed by the humorous quote was spot on.
Or, as I put it to someone during a conversation... People and our interactions with them are food for our mind and our soul. If the banquet only ever makes you spiritually sick, then you need to back away from that particular dish. Maybe they aren't rotten or poisonous. Maybe they are just a sugary confection that doesn't nourish you.
I don't know. That's probably pretty simplistic. Or maybe even... eh... somewhat demanding of me. I mean, to the best of my knowledge, no one was put on this ball of rock with the specific intent that they will entertain and instruct me. Of course, no one was put on this ball of rock with the specific intent that they will entertain and instruct you either.
No. I readily acknowledge that there are other purposes, other reasons for anyone to move about their day and do the things that they do. And, quite often, interactions are incidental and irrelevant until and unless one or the other specifically searches out that interaction with the other.
To continue the food analogy, our mind, our heart or our spirit is hungry for the nourishment that only interacting with another person can provide.
And... well, just like food for our plate, sometimes we pick someone to interact with because we think they'll "taste good." Other times, we're starving and stand in the pantry shoveling anything available in our mouth.
And, still other times we KNOW that it isn't good for us, but we just don't know what else to eat.
And then there's the meals that we eat and two hours later, we're hungry again.
I don't know. I truly don't. But, it just seems to me that if talking with someone, interacting with them, makes you feel worse afterwards, no matter how much you might have enjoyed it while you were at the table... then, that's not a healthy diet for you to subject yourself to.
I totally get the excitement in sitting down to feed your mind, heart, and soul with interacting with someone. But, afterwards, I think you should feel better. Calmer. More centered, not less. Stronger. Fit. More capable. Able to do. Replete.
If you don't feel those things... if instead you feel consistently empty and sick in your soul... then perhaps it's time to stop ordering off that menu?
Meh. Why do I feel like this blog has turned into an asparagus dish smothered in too much cheese? (With maybe a little too much salt.)
Ah, well. Here's to hoping you can find something nourishing to your head, heart, and soul.
Or perhaps just "something that will make your panties wet instead of your eyes."
And, wow. Is it just me or did that get awkward at the end there?
