Monday, April 20, 2009

Oh, bother...

There are lots of things that bother me: Squirrels. People who eat crunchy food in a quiet room. Scrunchies. Odd numbers. The words 'squat' and 'munch'. The list goes on and if I were to exhaust it, I'd most likely fall into a fit of manic self-analysis. No thanks. Lately, I've only been noticing the things that bother me about myself. Where did all of this super self-criticism come from? That was rhetorical because, believe you me, I know EXACTLY where it came from.

Top 5 Culprits:

1. Mirrors
2. Books on dating advice for women
3. Singleness
4. Men (or my ideas of them)
5. Seeing people I knew in high school

My stupid, freaking, constant inner dialogue takes all of these and uses them to fuel it's bitter tirades. I'm too pale/fat/short/bossy/stupid/overwhelming/annoying et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. This isn't self-deprication - this is honestly what runs through my head on a constant loop. The volume varies depending on where I am, or who I am with. The longer I'm alone, the worse it gets. If there are no distractions or people in my midst, my inner idiot uses these to reinforce all the self blame and hatred. It's really depressing if you think about it. And I know I'm not the only one who does this. And I also know that most of the inner dialogue I entertain is maladaptive, distracting and most importantly, exaggerated. I am aware that I'm not as horrible as my conscious claims. I have my faults of course, but if I truly embodied the traits my mind thinks I have, I'd be living in a remote hermit colony in some distant cave. Or I'd be clinically insane. I'm not sure which would be worse.

Moral of the blog is, don't always trust your inner critic. It usually doesn't have a healthy perspective, nor does it display the real truth. It serves a purpose on some level, but unless it's helping you be a better person to yourself and those around you, it should be listened to with uber massive filters.

"The Bible tells us to love our neighbors, and also to love our enemies; probably because they are generally the same people." ~G.K. Chesterton

Monday, April 6, 2009

Bunnies and Loneliness.

I have never made the connection between bunnies and loneliness until today...

Today at work I processed a book called 'Emmaline' or something. It was a kid's book about a little girl who finds a gray bunny and tries to keep him. She tells him, "If you let me, I'll take care of you and protect you forever." This girl doesn't have any friends - at least no human ones. After looking at that I laughed, then immediately thought of John Steinbeck's 'Of Mice and Men' which then made me think of the Bugs Bunny cartoon where he meets the Abominable Snowman (that was a long-ass sentence). In both the book and cartoon, there is a lonely, unique creature who finds comfort in a furry companion. They both make promises to take care of them... if only the little bunnies don't leave them all alone.

Are bunnies drawn to lonely people?

If that wasn't enough weirdness, I recently read a book that has bunnies, the Abominable Snowman, loneliness, and Jesus. It was a fictional comedy by Christopher Moore about the part of Jesus' life that's not in the Bible (i.e. his teenage, young adult years). Jesus goes to train with some Buddhist monks in India (did I say this was fiction?) when he encounters the Abominable Snowman. Jesus takes an instant liking to the lonely guy, and befriends him. He keeps him company until the creature dies. The book highlighted the idea that both Jesus and the Snowman were experiencing the loneliness that comes with being one-of-a-kind. Where are the bunnies, you ask? Just wait. Later on in the book, Jesus is chillin' after turning water into wine, when this little girl hands him a fluffy white rabbit. Jesus gently takes the animal and is fascinated with its vulnerability and softness. He carries it around for awhile, being comforted by it and keeping it safe.

What is with the bunnies and the loneliness??? Bunnies represent new life and springtime, but how does that connect with lonely people? I can't figure it out! It's so weird.

Perhaps I'll just chalk it up to coincidence and go back to reading my 'Neverwhere' book. Because that makes total sense (not).