The Buffet



On our way to a Saturday morning breakfast at Communal I felt sour. Here it was the precious weekend, having two hours alone with my husband to eat and relax, and I was irritable. Negativity presents itself as vanity in my life, if I don't explore my mood, it will translate into disparaging thoughts about my looks.

My hair, body, skin, clothes . . .

I prayed as we drove downtown--a gray, cold morning with ticker-tape type snow. I looked in the car mirror to assess the situation. A white, colorless face stared back at me.

I don't want to feel this way. Please help.

The response to my prayer was immediate, Your head is empty of thoughts. When you starve your intelligence there is nothing to digest but the empty space. Fill your head again.

This answer wasn't something new, but something I routinely forget. If I don't feed my spirit, I start to feed on my looks and those thoughts are a feeding frenzy of imperfection. Those thoughts are empty calories and low fuel. My greatest beauty hope is a head full of new thoughts, a cache of exploration, a pallet of new ideas.

After a slow meal of scones and eggs, Chup took me to the bookstore to sample some words. I tasted travel books, cook books, narratives and some really horrible diet guides. Finally, I decided on a book about clearing the mind and allowing for positivity and peace.

It was like I had fueled up my brain on premium. We were good to go.

"Hey there woman," Chup called out to me as I found him reading about cars in the magazine section,"can I take you home?"

"Alright," I blushed.

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