I really meant to post the last two days, but I’ve had a craptastic attitude and didn’t want to spew my ugly feelings out on the interwebs for all to enjoy. Seriously, my U-themed post was going to be “UGH!” – thank me that you were spared!
So, today I play catch-up! Don’t expect greatness and we’ll get along just fine! Also, don’t expect this to flow smoothly; this is three separate posts in one. The only connection is me – and I’m a weirdo whose brain travels paths much like the kids in those Family Circus cartoons used to.
NICORN
Unicorns, the mythical creatures that resemble a horse with a single horn protruding from their forehead.
Wikipedia states that during the Renaissance unicorns were known as “an extremely wild woodland creature, a symbol of purity and grace, which could only be captured by a virgin. In the encyclopedias its horn was said to have the power to render poisoned water potable and to heal sickness.”
Back in the 1980s I was an elementary school aged kid whose parents decided taking my brother and I to the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus to see “the Living Unicorn” was a good idea. I remember being sorely disappointed that it was just a goat with one horn. I’m glad I didn’t know about the
controversy surrounding the ‘creation’ of the unicorn.
All of that aside, when I think of a unicorn an entirely different image pops into my head. I belong to an internet discussion and support group where the term “unicorn” is used as an adjective to describe a person who is convinced (and tries to convince others) that there is good in every person, regardless of their actions that prove otherwise, and that the bad behaviors of relatives should be tolerated simply because they’re faaaaaamily. It is an agreed-upon fact that unicorns shit rainbows (click the photo below for a recipe for unicorn-poop cookies). I used to be a unicorn. No longer; genetics is no longer a free pass into my life. I will not tolerate hurt, betrayal, manipulation and abuse for the sake of genetics.
egetables
“Not until you eat your vegetables!”
Many a mother has threatened her children with growing old at the dining table if they refuse to eat the vegetables they’ve been presented with their meal. I know many people, mostly men, who do not like vegetables and consider eating french fries their attempt at a balanced diet!
I grew up with fresh vegetables out of the garden. I don’t remember ever disliking vegetables; in fact, I love them (with the exception of boiled okra)! The majority of the vegetables I ate as a child came fresh from the garden or were home-canned from the garden. Deliciousness!
There’s really very few vegetables I won’t eat. And I always try them. As a result, my children grew up eating vegetables as well. I have little tolerance for picky eaters. In almost all circumstances, I feel picky eaters are created by their parent’s bad attitudes toward variety in food. To be fair, though, I understand that some children have medical conditions that lead to an aversion to certain texture foods as well as an inability to consume vegetables. These are not picky children; they are children with legitimate health-related dietary restrictions!
If your kid doesn’t have medical reasons to have a limited diet, throw some sweet peas or some green beans on their plate! Smile while you’re eating them! Vegetable consumption, and a healthy attitude toward food, is taught at the family dinner table!
HY?
The question I ask most often – why?
Why did they do that? Why do they think that? Why can’t I? Why me? Why them? Why didn’t they do what was right? Why did they choose that? Why don’t I understand?
My world is full of WHYs. Lack of understanding has impacted my life in immeasurable ways. Wondering WHY has consumed more hours of my life than I would ever want to admit. It’s not always good for you to ask the question. It’s certainly not healthy to dwell in the place of wishing to understand. Some things are so bad and so evil that even if you were told why, the answer would never be sufficient.
The problem with “WHY?”, and the belief that there must surely be a reason behind everything, is that it’s flawed thinking. I know that I don’t always have a reason behind my actions, so why do I think that others must? There I go with the WHYs again! And that’s the other problem with “Why?”: even when an answer is given, the answer seems so insufficient that it is followed by “But, why?”
The WHYs haunt me. As if somehow knowing the reason I would suddenly be free to erase all of the aftermath. It can’t be erased; it needs to be faced. But the WHY is standing in the way like a wall holding me in place.
And really, that’s the biggest problem with WHY: being held back from moving on. And I need to move on. No answer will ever be good enough. So I need to learn how to live beyond the aftermath. I need to leave the WHY behind.
Now that I’ve typed that all out, I feel like I need to apologize for the direction that last section took. Turns out the funk is still lingering. Sorry. I’ll try to get rid of it before my next post!
zzzzzz
