I was struck by an image that populated my Facebook feed today:
(Apparently I have a lot of friends with “pants” issues.)
My first thought to be honest?
….Said No Missy EVER.
It was humbling. Though I have talked the talk and walked minuscule steps of that walk, today it occurs to me that this is exactly what I am doing.
That word was striking.
War? Really? Me?
I’m a lover! Not a fighter.
Of course, my logophiliac self then focused on the word PEACE.
Yes, peace with myself would be the answer…the dream.
How am I to find peace, though, amongst so much incredible bodily discomfort? (My issues, again, are mostly visceral and not visual).
To be honest…I’m concluding I can’t right now.
However. I will have faith that this will go away, as I am told it does.
….I choose to disengage.
I try. I wait. I behave.
After all …. I’m not a fighter BUT
I love myself.
So why not try and find peace for the time being with all the yucks …. because if I try and fix them my way, on my own terms, I LOSE.