I can talk myself out of almost anything.  The main exception is of course snacks.  Several years ago I was on Weight Watchers, and while working at Duck’s Soup, this actual conversation took place between myself and I.

me: “Mmmm. . .I want one of those vegan cookies!”

self: “That’s not a very good idea. . .”

me:  “Mmmm. . .cookie. . .”

self: “You will feel sick to your stomach and guilty if you eat that cookie!”

me:  “Mmmm. . .cookie. . .”

self: (exasperated) “You can’t have the cookie if you want to be skinny!”

me:  “I don’t want to be skinny!!!!!”

The part of me that was observing this truly bizarre conversation was equally concerned and amused, at the end of the day I did in fact have the cookie.  So while the cookie often wins, the other stuff gets pushed to the side.

I drove 45 minutes this morning to take a yoga class at the studio where I did my 200 hour teacher training.  I really like it up there.  I usually see a few friendly faces and I always get the yoga class I am looking for.  I go maybe twice year.  Why?  Because I talk myself out if it.  It is a three to four hour time commitment, and I never feel like I should spend that much time just on myself.  It costs more than I like to spend on myself on any given day, and I mean the cost of class alone, never mind the expense of gas and whatever else comes up.

I have these little conversations with myself, to convince myself that my good impulses for self care are not worthwhile.  I don’t call the friend because I don’t want to be a bother.  I don’t ask for time alone because it might hurt somebody’s feelings.  I don’t take the class or go on the day trip because it costs too much money.  It seems like I might need to hire a second moose (as described in my last post).

When I talk myself out of these things I feel a little sadder and emptier than before.  When I manage to beat the Negative Nellie that usually wins the battle I feel so much happier than before, not only because I got to do what I really wanted to do, but my quieter true self gets a say for once. Where does it say we can’t be nice to ourselves?  Some where along the line I got the memo that I was supposed to suffer and have spent a lot of time trying to make that happen.  Maybe a third moose is in order.

On the theme of following joyful impulses, this is Boy getting high on a Mystic Mud ice cream cone. Happy impulse, leads to happy action, leads to happy boy.  Let’s see if I can get that habit going in my life, in the non-cookie sense of course


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