Friday, August 22, 2008

Ergo Ego Go

My feet are short, wide across the ball and narrow at the heel with really high insteps and arches. Thankfully, I am not really tall or very big boned. My feet do not have to carry too much more than these were intended to carry. Still, because of the size and shape of my feet, I have some painful moments of every day, especially from my left foot. This is all brought clearly home to me when I try to dress "up" for a special occasion, in this case, a funeral. Whoever deemed it a good thing for women to squeeze themselves into the various and sundry types of underpinnings to keep up this fa├žade of a perfect body will one day rot in hell. The same thing goes for whoever decided that a man should wrap a piece of material around his neck and tie it in a knot. Why must beauty be described by some strange code of pain and discomfort? If beauty truly comes at a price, well, all I can say is that I am broke.

I cannot count the inordinate amount of time that I have spent in front of a closet trying to figure out what to wear. It is so extreme as to be truly sinful. Most of the wasted time nowadays is due to the extra meat that seems to have attached itself to my middle and posterior portions of my anatomy. Clothes just don't hang any more…these cling…normally in places I do not wish these to cling.

I like to look nice. I like my clothes to match my shoes (at least a near match) and for those clothes to look as though they belong in this century, style-wise. I like my hair to be as tamed as it can be, but on humid days, I take what I am given and give thanks. Some things I can do something about and some things I can't.


I am tired of wasting this time. I am tired of not being comfortable. I don't want to be in pain inflicted due to ego. Mainly, it is taking time away from the things that are really important.

There is so much work to do and so little time. Having just returned from the funeral of a friend's father, this is so much clearer now than just a while ago. What difference does it make if our clothes match this or that? How can we waste so much of our time messing with our hair, our clothes, our egos…all the while it is never enough, never quite right. (at least for me) Why have I not been able to let go of all of this?

It just doesn't matter.

We labor daily for "the food that perishes". The will of God…that is all there is, seeking that will in the understanding that Jesus is "the Bread of Life", the only bread we need. I do not believe that the suffering that one might have to experience in a lifetime should come from ill-fitting shoes or clothes that are too tight or even the anxiety of trying to look "right".

The anxiety should come from the question – am I doing enough to help the children of God? Am I following God's will for me? Am I an instrument of God's Peace and Love? Do people look at me and see the face of Jesus shining?

Or does my partner have to listen to my ranting, raving and whining about nothing to wear or how crappy this or that looks on me? Or does our son experience the after effects of the crabbiness created in my anxiety over not finding the right fit or the right outfit? These things are not the "Bread of Life". This cannot be the will of God; rather it is the will of me alone.

My ego…my self…putting me before all other things.

As a blessed friend used to tell me…"It ain't always about you, honey." Sometimes it is all about someone else's problems. Sometimes it is ALL about me. But the point is this; it should never be that much about me.

Everliving, everloving God, Creator of all that is, seen and unseen, known and unknown, let me set aside all those things that make it about me as an individual. Let me strive to be a vehicle of peace and love and to let the face of Jesus shine through me. Help me to set aside the small ego-based issues so that I might truly seek to do your will.


Lindy said...

Give that woman a big AMEN!

I have just about had my own fill of trying to look like I am supposed to here lately. Now that a couple of really obligatory things are over -- things I really did have to look like "Linda McMillan" for, I can just go back to being good ol'e Lindy.

Peace baby, and love to your family.


Barbi Click said...

Hey woman, email me!