I eat some things that are bad for me because they taste good, like Jeni’s ice cream (for crissakes!).
I eat other things that are bad for me and taste bad. Like the weekly email newsletter that I receive from a communication consultant in whose musings Smarmy battles Smug 52 times a year—and what a slugfest it is!
I read these emails slavishly, just as Stephen Crane’s desert creature eats his own heart, explaining, “It is bitter—bitter … But I like it, because it is bitter, and because it is my heart.”
It’s a little snack, before my Sunday dinner, this newsletter—my bitter heart.
The other day, this consultant finally wrote one email that represented all the other emails—that said everything she has ever said and ever will say, and said it in only three short paragraphs. (RESPECT.)
This morning I woke up in the mountains with the snow coming down. As I walked into the living room with the fire already blazing, it sure looked comfy! “Maybe it is snowing too much to go skiing,” I thought to myself. I could just hang out by the fire, read and relax.
Luckily, I had a reservation for a group lesson so not going out into that snow really wasn’t an option. I’m so glad I did! It was energizing, exciting and exhausting. I am now ready for a nap by that blazing fire, so I’ll keep this newsletter brief.
It did make me think about how hard it can be to push ourselves outside of our physical comfort zones ….
Yes, sequestered from the pandemic and its economic ravages in her cozy mountain home, M’Lady briefly postponed her afternoon nap to tell us what lessons about grit and courage we might all draw from the lionhearted will she showed in attending the morning’s $100/hr ski lesson.
I’m absolutely sure I have sounded like this to someone and I thank them for forgiving me at least to the extent of not writing a column like this about me.
Meanwhile, I will continue to subscribe to this consultant’s email. (I like it, because it is bitter, and because it is my heart.)
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