Sometimes people are just a little too. You know? Just a little too. Too angry, too awesome, too obsessive, too perfect, too clever, too moody, too gorgeous, too eager, too sure, too ridiculous. I think I’d like to be just enough. Of all those things. And all the other things.
I was reading a mass-marketing email message (that I totally signed up to receive, so I can’t actually complain, but hang on — I will) about healthy eating stuff, and the writer of the email was touting the benefits of an all-plant diet, plus the weird protein add-in powders that her company was happy to sell me, in natural protein-powder flavors like strawberry. Because, of course. Strawberry protein. Also chocolate. Right. Anyway, I’m skimming along, smiling to myself, proud to be moderate, when she says something like this: “Green smoothies, blah, blah. And I’m not talking about adding a handful of spinach to a fruit smoothie. That’s not a green smoothie.” Um, lady? YES IT IS. Because, see? It turned GREEN when I added that big handful of spinach to it. Which I chose to do to feel more healthy, and to put more dark green leafies in my body. Not because it tastes good. Because it does not. And you, lady, do not have the power to make me question my food decisions. Feel free to continue on the path of Food Nazi, while I sit here occasionally eating buttered popcorn or — gasp — a cheeseburger. And adding handfuls (that is a word) of spinach to my fruit smoothies. And being enough.
In my head right this minute are a half-dozen thoughts of rants I’ve heard or read lately where people* are Just Too. And I’m not actually up for moderating angry comments or whatever, so I’ll just say that the only Just Too that works for me right now is Just Too Kind. Because things go awry. People disappoint. Life is hard. Money is tight. Flippant remarks hurt. Illness happens (and mental illness is as real as diabetes, my friends), and sometimes people are gay, and innocence is misinterpreted as aimed offense, and we (all of us) constantly disappoint here and there, and guess what? Kindness is the way to react to stuff.
And I’m pretty sure I could be really, really kind and still not qualify as a Kindness Nazi. But if I were one of those, I guess it would be all right.
DISCLAIMER: I am nowhere near qualifying as a Kindness Nazi. Not even a little bit. I KNOW THIS. You don’t need to worry that I’ve forgotten how I snarked, how I snapped, how I rolled my eyes, how I rubbed my forehead in frustration. I know. No one is more aware of my failures than I am. I am so aware that it might surprise even my most-aware acquaintances that I know just how often I fall short. In every way. But I chose, and I choose again today, and I will continue to choose to be kind. And I know it doesn’t always turn out that way. Because I fail. But I will keep trying to choose kindness, and if it turns out that there’s a better way to be happy, I’ll let you know when I find it.
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* Strangers. Not you.
(8) Comments for this blog
I think I might have received the same email you received. And I think I might have thought the same thing. (and with my next sentence I type how I actually bought some of the chocolate protein but haven’t tried it…yikes!).
Thanks for the reminder to choose kindness. It must be winter because I’m feeling acutely aware of all the times I don’t measure up. I needed that reminder to choose kindness for myself as well as others. You’re awesome. I’m glad you don’t want to be a Nazi.
I think I might have received the same email you received. And I think I might have thought the same thing. (and with my next sentence I type how I actually bought some of the chocolate protein but haven’t tried it…yikes!).
Thanks for the reminder to choose kindness. It must be winter because I’m feeling acutely aware of all the times I don’t measure up. I needed that reminder to choose kindness for myself as well as others. You’re awesome. I’m glad you don’t want to be a Nazi.
Becca. Becca. You are kindness. I said of you the other day that I had never seen an unkindness in you. That I had been surprised by others, thrown by the differences I hadn’t seen, and yet in you…you don’t surprise because you *are* just what I’ve always believed you are. Kind. Lovely. Thoughtful. Sweet. Real. Compassionate. Honest. Happy. Funny. Kind. Kind. Kind.
Becca. Becca. You are kindness. I said of you the other day that I had never seen an unkindness in you. That I had been surprised by others, thrown by the differences I hadn’t seen, and yet in you…you don’t surprise because you *are* just what I’ve always believed you are. Kind. Lovely. Thoughtful. Sweet. Real. Compassionate. Honest. Happy. Funny. Kind. Kind. Kind.
Too, too awesome. And strawberry protein is my favorite kind, right after movie theater popcorn protein.
Too, too awesome. And strawberry protein is my favorite kind, right after movie theater popcorn protein.
love. love. love.
love. love. love.