The Golden Mean
So I've been contemplating the idea of moderation for a long time now, ...like for at least the past year.
I'm really intrigued by it, these rattly thoughts.
"i wonder IF..."
"can it be done?"
"why does it work for some & not others?"
"maybe I'm not the drinker I once labeled myself as"
..."maybe I was just weaker then" .....
"what if we treat the reasons WHY we pick up a drink, or piece of pie, or whatever it is we self medicate with,...what if the root source can be felt & dealt with....does our compulsion to overindulge move away...?"
Little, but loud thoughts. And when I proverbially connect my hand to my face & wake up from my drift of thought the answer is, Jessica, you just don't know IF.
IF doesn't truly exist, ....does it? You either do something or you don't, it either happens or it doesn't.
I'm either someone who moderates drinking or I am not.
And so here I sit, at my keyboard, after a kinda shitty day, & week, and after a kinda shitty few months actually,
and I wonder.
....and I look out into my yard into the gold of the evening light ....
And my choice is, not today. IF doesn't get to happen today, because if I truly weigh the option between clarity & fuzzy, clarity has always led me to the next right thing, and fuzzy just never does. Feeding the source of what makes me happier vs feeding the source of what cushions me is the way today.
So, ....I'm going to pick up my Fender Strat & take a go at Rocksmith. THAT just might take me to my better places today, ....