The moment that you feel, just possibly, you are walking down the street naked, exposing too much of your heart and your mind, and what exists on the inside, showing too much of yourself…That is the moment, you might be starting to get it right.
–Neil Gaiman
I have never known how to stop. I read until it’s pitch dark and my eyes hurt. I eat until I feel sick. I drink more than is perhaps strictly necessary. I watch either no television at all or binge on Real Housewives of New Jersey and True Blood. Left to my own devices, I would live entirely inside my own head and barely talk to anyone– when I’m not oversharing on social media, that is. I spent several years in the 90’s worried vaguely about how many days would go by before my body was found if I died when I got home from work (the answer was 4–that’s how many days until I had to be back at work). For a long time I had more imaginary friends than real ones. I think I’m smarter than most people while simultaneously calling myself a dumbass. I think about shit like this all the fucking time, and then when I’m not thinking about it I’m writing about it. Dude. You should see the stuff that I delete. It would curl your hair. Right now I’m thinking about how what I’m writing doesn’t even match the quote I opened with and that it’s a good thing I don’t have anything real to worry about because I don’t have time for real worries.
I’m too busy talking about myself to have serious concerns about much.
What we have here is a failure to establish balance.
Shit. It’s that word again.
Why is Balance such a hard idea for me to wrap my brain around? Other people seem to do alright with it. Or do they? I suspect that all of the people who seem to have their shit totally together have secret issues. They are insomniacs, secret drunks, cut themselves, abuse their children or have anxiety disorders, but they look great in their yoga pants while buying organic produce and demonstrating for world peace. I wear my imbalances on the outside.
Does that mean I win?
Is there a better or worse way to have disordered qi? What about if you don’t believe in qi?
Is it snobby to spell it qi instead of chi? Or should I go with ki?
Is it weirder that I know so many ways of spelling it, or that now I’m thinking of Les Nessman talking about Chi Chi Rodriguez instead of thinking about how to tell when I’ve gone overboard with something?
The good news is that I realize that I’m doing it right now.
The bad news is that I’m not going to go back to the point at which this whole post derailed and fix it.
Is that cheating or being honest?
I couldn’t even begin to tell you.