It has come to my attention that I can be a bit of an extremist. And by a bit, I mean, I am absolutely an extremist. Ironically I had this very real epiphany when talking to Crystal about moderation. For some things, I balance well but for others…I was telling her about my complete disgust of asking for help. I was talking through the issue when I said, “I have no sense of balance its either I utterly refuse help or I need help in a big way, there’s no in between.” I said it but I hadn’t said it in my head first. It slipped out without going through any sort of filter, which is good but odd.

Later when I was thinking about the conversation, I wondered how many other things I was polarized on. Trust? Joy? Eating? In most cases its not absolute deprivation, its absolute indulgence. I love fully, I surrender completely to a good meal, my joy radiates–I’m like a mini sunshine. But, I can’t say that its all serving my spirit. I’ve often thought I was a bit hedonistic in the sense that I am impulsive and do what feels right, when I feel it. But surely a little consideration and planning never hurt anybody.

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Bench I stumbled across in San Clemente

I’ve been trying to think of what my word is. Before, I said it was “be”–but on revisiting that thought, it is much too passive. And while a novel idea, its really not me. I believe my word might be touch. Its how I make sense of things, through the body. Its what I do, professionally. Its how I operate, by connecting by proximity, by experiencing…fully.

While I guess it cannot hurt to do some things more, and others less…riding the middle just does not appeal to me. I think there’s always a place you get to on the road to self discovery when you say, “you know…arguably this is a flaw but I wouldn’t be me without it.” And maybe its a defense mechanism. Maybe its just a rationalization of overindulgent behaviors.

Liz said…

“in a world of disorder and disaster and fraud, sometimes only beauty can be trusted. Only artistic excellence is incorruptible. Pleasure cannot be bargained down. And sometimes the meal is the only currency that is real…The appreciation of pleasure can be an anchor of one’s humanity”

Perhaps that’s what I’ve been doing. I suppose it makes sense. When you close yourself off to things by building walls, it takes more in order to feel, to experience, to know you’re alive and a very real entity in this world. Can’t I know that without overconsumption? Well, I suppose, not without really making myself available. You gotta open up little lotus. It can’t be about more anymore. It has to be about enough.

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