Forget the Last Thing I Said (self)
I’m not a genius. I’m not the cutest person on the planet. I might be really good for you, but you’re going to have to overlook my buddha belly. I know, I try. But I was born with it. Yep, love handles too. I know. I hear you.
Sure, I exercise a lot, actually. It’s the queso and margaritas. And dessert. That’s two scoops for dessert and only one for desert.
I’ve been trying to love myself anyway. I’m younger than I’m ever going to be again at this moment. And those pictures from college, when my band was playing weekends on 6th street. I recall thinking I was fat. Those pictures remind me, I just am. I was sort of born with this body. This actual body. From time to time I’ve starved myself. And in one photo from about five years ago, I was standing on a tennis court with my daughter and I didn’t like the skinny me. I mean, would we still love a thin Jack Black, John Belushi, or Robin Williams? You know that weather guy that goes so thin, Al Roker, or Al Sharpton? Do we think they look awesome? Yes, I’m sure they are healthier. But…
Okay, I’m not trying to talk myself out of my no-dessert resolution. And I’m not trying to talk myself into a frappuccino. What I’m trying to understand is this: now, exactly how I am, is my most loveable self. Yes, I could be thinner. I’m sure my tennis would improve. But my love life? Well, I’ve got that handled. And love handles were never my best quality anyway.
I think it’s my ability to live according to the principles of Bill W that makes me a good human. Don’t take others’ inventory. Don’t give advice. Listen. Let go. Focus on what I can change and let go of all the rest. I think that’s my superpower. Letting go of bad shit, others’ shit. I’m working on how to let go of my own, but aren’t we all?
*image from felix culpa 4.8.86 – video
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