There are things that you know you shouldn’t do, that you pretend to resist doing, but that you know you’re going to do anyway. Like opening a bag of chocolate chips with no intention of baking. On a day when you’ve already eaten frozen yogurt and an almond croissant.
Or sliding oh so casually from semi-upright to horizontal on the couch instead of going upstairs and brushing your teeth when it’s very near bedtime. Or clicking on Facebook in the middle of writing a blog post. Not this blog post, no, surely not.
Our resistance, though futile, is well-intentioned. We might not enjoy the results of these things. Our pants might be a little tighter or our work a little sloppier for lack of sleep, but sometimes, I think, it’s OK. In fact, a little celebration may be in order.
We have an unending litany of things to get right in this culture—health, career, appearance, family, house, garden, etc.—and we need to take it easy on ourselves once in a while. Letting something mostly harmless shift from not OK to OK now and then could help us realize that life might actually be OK much more of the time than we think.
I don’t mean eat the entire bag of chocolate chips—unless it’s the day you really need to—or give up on flossing all together. I think this is another area where David Roche’s Church of 80% Sincerity has the right idea. Being human, we can only strive for self improvement about eighty percent of the time. For the other twenty, pass the chocolate chips.
4 thoughts on “Letting Things Slide”
LOL! Yup, pass the chocolate chips and the Ben and Jerry’s. Let’s buy the book! Thank you for knowing about it. : )
I’m really struggling with this right now. My best intentions keep getting moved to tomorrow, next monday, next month, next quarter. And I can’t figure out if I should just go with it (the time isn’t right!) or muscle through.
I know what you mean. That happens to me all the time. Here’s my most recent experience in that realm, for what it’s worth. A couple of years ago, I could not get myself to write more than once or twice a week, even though I knew it was what I really wanted to do, maybe needed to do. So I said to God, “I can’t do this. I’m going to meditate for 15 min. every morning and wait for you to tell me what to do.”
I’m still only writing a couple of days a week, but other opportunities have opened up that I really value. I still think the writing will come back around but not until I’ve shifted the ground I move from. Meanwhile, I’m beating myself up less, which I think is really important.
I know God isn’t everybody’s thing. If S/he isn’t yours, you could talk to the universe or the Earth or a departed spirit or a wise tree.
Great advice. I think I needed a new perspective. Thanks for sharing that.