Living in NEPA as I do, I’ve had the occasion to step in a cow pie or two in my time. Truth be told, I have not only stepped in pooh, I have slid through it, had it squish through my bare toes, and flung it at others in some crazy kids game of keep-away that included dried and hardened meadow muffins. People who don’t farm will recoil at the idea of it all, but for us, it was just another day…another trip to the lower forty…another distraction from the mundane life of herding cows. Besides, cow pooh isn’t all bad. It’s organic and it’s recyclable, plus I’ve seen folks sell this stuff as pricey trinkets and garden fodder, so its very adaptable, too.
Hey, don’t judge me until you’ve lived ten miles outta town and had a whole summer to do absolutely nothing but farm chores.
But I digress…
I stepped in it yesterday.
Not literally, mind you, but figuratively. I did something with the best of intentions, but it didn’t turn out so well. In the end, I felt like I had gone swimming in crap. As horrible as that sounds, it felt worse.
Can I say that I hate my overdeveloped sense of conscience sometimes?
I also hate it that somewhere along the line to adulthood I got the impression that I’m supposed to be perfect.
I am not perfect!
I’m far from perfect, but my expectations for perfection are definitely out of whack. They are out of sync with reality. This causes me pain, and pain urges me to look for comfort, and too many times in the past that comfort was found in food.
Today, I choose not to be comforted by food, and so I am left to deal with feelings that don’t feel all that good without being able to eat to sooth them. Drats!
What do I do in these times, when food is not a comfortable option?
I pray: for me, for them, for all of us.
I try to envision forgiveness waiting for me on the other end of a crappy occurrence.
I remind myself that my intent was not to harm but help, and that maybe, just maybe, it is the third party in this equation that is overreacting.
I press on, not eating over the awful sinking feelings I have.
I remember that my time here is not about perfection, but doing the very best I can today and opening myself up to the wisdom of others that can help me do better tomorrow.
I wait for the awful feelings to go away.
“This, too, shall pass,” I tell myself.
I remind myself I’m human and fallible, and fragile.
I apologize if I can, and I begin the work of letting it go.
I sense the urge to eat, but instead I wait, because eating will only add to the problem, not erase it.
Thankfully, crappy days do not extend into eternity. They have a beginning and they will have an end. Mine ended at 11:00pm last night.
Ah, the chance to begin again, and this time I will watch where I’m walking!