Yes, I titled this with “down, down”. Yes I am hearing “Rock Lobster” in my head, right at the part where Fred Schneider is singing “down, down” and picturing people at one of my high school dances sinking to the floor.
How? Why? What? Yes, well, perhaps it has something to do a certain Nutella and pretzel scoops incident this week. Yes, I cheated on Lent. I made a promise to God and broke it. Does it really get much worse?
Actually, yes, it does. It does get worse. It happened more than once. But, it also gets worse than cheating on God. In fact, I did not cheat on God. I did not cheat on Lent. I simply cheated myself. I broke a promise. I am not hurting God. I hurt me.
While I explore all of the underlying meanings of this violation, I can laugh at myself.
Suddenly, it all makes sense to me.
My first thought was to pretend I never even started this stupid blog and just quit updating it.
“No,” I thought, “you have done that a bunch of times. You always come back to this, so some part of you wants to do this.”
Having established that I would, in fact, update this thing, I had to figure out how to finesse this whole “cheating” thing. My knee-jerk solution: just leave it out. Yes, a nice lie by omission. Nothing screams, “spiritual growth” like dishonesty.
So, here I am, telling on myself. I am getting back on the bike and pedaling. It is not exactly the first time in my life that I have started something, and gone off course, and simply swerved back on.
Something about not doing it perfectly makes it all sort of dirty in my mind- like a dress with a spot right in the middle of it. My first reaction is that my Lent is ruined.
Actually, it is not ruined at all. It is better because I get to look at why I went there- to Nutellaville. This is a time of renewal and growth. If everything moves along placidly until Easter Sunday, then I pound down an industrial sized jar of Nutella, what have I gained?
If I find out why I tend to listen to the voice that says, “c’mon, it’s just one time. It’s Nutella, it’s like a nut-butter really”, then what have I really lost?
I will take the counsel of that self-defeating voice, even when my higher inspiration is screaming to my psyche, “hey, what are you doing? You are just going to feel bad about this right after it happens- probably even while it is happening.”
Meanwhile, I am sticking to and thriving with the “spending time with God” part of my Lenten journey. I kind of think this Nutella incident is just part of my spiritual growth.
It made its point. Now, I am here, telling the truth. I am not little Miss Lent 2014, Chaste Princess of Virtue. I am just a chick, trying to connect to God, and to grow. That is all still happening.
Until next time.