I have a weakness for certain treats. Ice cream and chocolate are among them. Benjamin too will take out three trash cans and fold two loads of laundry for a bag of chips. So I buy them, and the bins get emptied. Personally I have been employing a steady supply of chocolate to bribe myself to work on a quilt I agreed to create. I don't like the project any more now than I did when I started. Nothing personal, but it is a collection of memory fabrics, which includes towels, Disney pjs and sports jerseys. Not my first choice for quilting. But chocolate is bridging the gap between stuck and unstuck. The top is almost done. When I get more fabric for the border and another bar of fair trade caramel with sea salt I will proceed. 

 

Although I indulge in non nutritious foods I do not pretend they are lunch. Popcicles are no substitute for a stir fry. 

 

This morning I was consuming, or consumed by, mental junk food. I kept stewing about someone I feel hurt by and practiced the jagged remarks I would say given a chance. It was as addictive as potato chips. Then I clicked on an online bible study, to listen while I sewed. The speaker talked about the two components of our spiritual army, the one doing the fighting and the one guarding the supplies. He wove together the circumstances of several battles in the Bible, such as Gideon's war with the Midianites. He explained that there was a large component of the army that was allowed to simply go home if they were afraid. Then another group was singled out because of the way they drank from the stream. As I listened I felt lifted up into a place of compassion, where snarly words are as appealing as stale popcorn. 

 

When I feed my relationships a diet of complaints, they gradually starve. But if I can muster the IQ to seek out mental broccoli I stand a chance of thriving. 

 

 

 

Photo by Joy Feerrar

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