The line in the sand
Our life is structured by boundaries, both self- and other-imposed, real and imaginary, firm and negotiable. Some boundaries are welcomed, others are reviled and rarely do we collectively feel similarly about the limits set before us. We encounter them from birth to death, learning from a young age to test the waters at the edge. How far can we go and what happens if we cross the line? At age two, our vocabularly shrunk to one word, "no", (or so it seemed) and we'd stubbornly test our parents' resolve. We amped up the struggle through our teen years. We'd dreamed of the day when we'd be adults and we'd be in charge, setting the rules as we saw fit. Ha ha ha ha ha, oh, that's a good one.
But what tests me the most are the arbitrary behavioral rules that aim to dictate my feelings and mood. "You will feel festive on New Year's Eve and be wary on Friday, the 13th." How much do I dislike these attempts to control my attitude? I allowed a friendship to fizzle because I tired of her telling me how I was going to feel about an event or a date, as if she knew me better than I knew myself.
So you can imagine my reaction to the news that a British researcher has deemed January 24th to be the worst day of the year. Okay, I concede that his research may have positive uses in the mental health field but just because he says it is the worst day doesn't mean I'm about to throw up my arms and say "What the hell, why fight it, let's wallow deeply in the blues." Nope. I've picked up the gauntlet and I'm going the opposite way. I am going to do my best to bring on the giggles with healthy doses of silliness and lightheartedness. As I type this, I'm wearing my paper tiara and the plastic glasses from my son's Harry Potter Halloween costume. I look quite ridiculous, I'm sure, but it's making me smile so it's all good.
So I say to this day, "Harumph, you can't make me feel sad if I don't want to!" My inner child - the rebellious one - is making her appearance. Excuse me while I go do a few cartwheels and summersaults to celebrate.
But what tests me the most are the arbitrary behavioral rules that aim to dictate my feelings and mood. "You will feel festive on New Year's Eve and be wary on Friday, the 13th." How much do I dislike these attempts to control my attitude? I allowed a friendship to fizzle because I tired of her telling me how I was going to feel about an event or a date, as if she knew me better than I knew myself.
So you can imagine my reaction to the news that a British researcher has deemed January 24th to be the worst day of the year. Okay, I concede that his research may have positive uses in the mental health field but just because he says it is the worst day doesn't mean I'm about to throw up my arms and say "What the hell, why fight it, let's wallow deeply in the blues." Nope. I've picked up the gauntlet and I'm going the opposite way. I am going to do my best to bring on the giggles with healthy doses of silliness and lightheartedness. As I type this, I'm wearing my paper tiara and the plastic glasses from my son's Harry Potter Halloween costume. I look quite ridiculous, I'm sure, but it's making me smile so it's all good.
So I say to this day, "Harumph, you can't make me feel sad if I don't want to!" My inner child - the rebellious one - is making her appearance. Excuse me while I go do a few cartwheels and summersaults to celebrate.
posted by bemused at 10:39 AM
3 Comments:
You crack me up.
Thanks for visiting our site and placing a link!
Glad I gave you giggles today, Lelo. That makes two of us who didn't buy into the whole Gloomy Gus day then. btw, I had to settle with doing jumping jacks and tamer stuff. My body ain't as young as I feel, dang it all.
female law power, glad you stopped by. You're welcome for link. I love stupid criminal stories! They are always good for laughs plus they make me feel ever so much smarter.
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