Arms Raised, I Say "Victory!"

I have admitted on this blog that I can not work most electronic equipment nor many appliances. Since my current life has been ordered to soul searching, here is the truth of the matter: I am not interested. There are probably about fifteen thousand other things I am not interested in. But I am interested in this:

I have a more than adequate supply of what is called smart clothing. However, the intelligence promised by this labeling is only acquired when this clothing is worn together, one piece with another. That is when you get smart, and stay warm. And this fact is not mentioned on any label. Layering up is what makes this clothing work.
Today I was required to fulfill the exact recipe of the exact clothing. Clothing IQ called to the forefront. Zero degrees, and a flexible wind chill. Early this morning the wind chill was -18 degrees. Early this afternoon, it was -30.

We took to a two mile trail, down and up, around a point, down and up again. I have to say, I was actually enjoying my walk. What I had selected was working. The snow was crunching, the trail was packed. The sun was shining. I was looking around at the treescape. Usually, on a day like today, the dogs are burying me. It was quiet. It was still.

It was too quiet. It was too still. I turned around. Back a significant distance, were my dogs.

Sitting.

Each holding a paw in the air.

"YES!!" I yelled.

Linda: 1

Dogs: 3005

Finally, I won one in the game of "Who Can Last The Longest?"

Helped along by a scathing and breath-taking performance during Saturday afternoon opera, I
have decided to quit playing this game. Even on the heels of winning one.
I have played it my entire life. I'm sick of playing it, now that I won one.

No one thought it possible that I would last twenty years as the drug testing manager of the Iowa Hawkeyes. If I had to list every technique tried to break me, stop me, turn me, confuse me, undermine me, devalue me, the text would be four inches, in thickness. Finally, I quit. Did I say you broke me? No, I didn't. What I did was show a rage that has lasted a long time. I am done with that. Here it is: you broke me. You broke me along time ago, but I wouldn't admit it, or show it. You win. Game over.

I played this game with my father. Did anyone in my family ever think I would quit? No they didn't. I would never tell anyone in my family that piece of news. Today I would like to say: Dad, I quit. Did you break me? Yes, you did, a long time ago. But all I would show was my rage. You broke me. You win. Game over.

I have played this game in the past with friends, lovers, and siblings. Currently, there are people from these groups who are playing this game with me. I would like to tell them: I quit. Did you know I quit a long time ago? No, you didn't, because all I showed was my rage. You won a long time ago. You broke me. A long time ago. You win. Game over.

Here is the truth of the matter: I am not interested in hiding or deferring my hopes and wishes, my need for love and acceptance, my hurt and vulnerability. I am not interested in my hurt, being expressed by anger. Not interested anymore. I have always viewed anger as more empowering and productive than hurt. I am not interested in this view anymore. I think it is possible for me to tie hurt to something else, if need be. Like crying.
I am not interested in grudges, resentments, having my view of the situation, or getting my message through. Not interested. I am the hurt, faulted and less than perfect person. I admit it. That is what my smart clothing layered over my smart self, is telling me to say. And we will take it from there, I guess.

As Professor Dunn said last week in class: "How easy is that?" For some reason, Professor, today...post brain freezing walk...pretty easy.

And that is what is called grace.

Arms raised, again I say, "Victory!"