Granola, Oatmeal, And Forgiveness

I’m trying to learn how to be okay with who I am, to sit down with myself and look at all my flaws, all my quirks and weirdness and to honestly really like me anyway. Not so much in spite of, but because of. I’m trying to learn how to be gentle with myself. I’m trying to let go of the shoulds. I’m trying to give myself as much respect and kindness and honesty and care as I can. Because I have SO! MUCH! of that stuff, and I love to give it to as many people as I can. I just sort of looked around recently and was amazed that I wasn’t giving that same courtesy to me. I guess it just never occurred to me to do so. Which seems silly to do, until you realize you need to and then it seems really silly not to.  I don’t want to be one of those chicks that carry around baggage for the rest of my life, for my past, and for the stuff that others have pushed onto me. Because that stuff is heavy.

It’s funny, sometimes I like to look at photoshop pictures, of before and after, of people and places and things. And 98 % of the time, I really like the way they are BEFORE the touch-ups. To me all those little flaws and imperfections are more beautiful than the smoothest skin and the most perfect hair and everything else that is “beautiful” and “sexy”.  I’m not sure why in my mind, those same rules don’t apply to me. Not just physically, but in the way I act and feel and move and breathe. I understand that not everyone thinks the same way as I do, otherwise they wouldn’t have to photoshop and airbrush and makeup so much. But if I want to meet my Right People? Those other people that are quirky and weird and also sort of dig flaws? If I want to really and truly surround myself with people that I need to be around, then I need to be honest with who I am and who I want to be. Otherwise, how will they find me?

OATMEAL


I got my dog Oatmeal in I think 1998 or 1999, she was a Corgi that I picked out from the humane society. I named her Oatmeal because she was sort of the khaki creamy oatmealy color. When she played outside and got dirty, my brother kenny called her Malt -o- Meal, and she was a wonderful companion. She was one of the most intelligent dogs I’ve ever seen, and she was bright and fun and loved to snuggle. She would let me fall asleep hugging her like a teddy bear, and she had the fuzziest ears in the history of dogs. J’s parents live in the country, and they were keeping Oatmeal for me while I was away. Yesterday she got out and ran off and got the highway, where she was hit by a car and killed. I will miss her very much, she was an awesome friend, and a great soul.

My heart aches for my Oat-doggie. Being angry will not bring her back. It won’t fix things.

Just remain calm. Lay quiet a while.I swear there will be funnier things to talk about in the future.

It’s just a phase,

Kim

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