sarahcentric

For those of us who practice Maximum Comfort, we know it’s a powerful life tool. But if you aren’t intimately familiar with the subtleties of the art as described in my previous entry, you may be confused.

“Ummmm, cool Sarah. It’s so great you’re writing now. But, this kind of sounds like depression…maybe? I don’t know…”

The mistake is common and completely understandable. The traditional dress and cuisine for both is basically identical! But I ain’t all sweetness and light, unicorns and rainbows, hoodies and sneakers. I’m not always the brawd at the end of the self-help book who takes a meaningful breath, leaks jeweled tears and proclaims, “I get it now…I love ME more!”

Life is so beautiful sometimes it can hurt your eyes. Amazing things happen all of the time. They have actually happened to me. BUT I also know for a fact that things fall apart, all the time. That’s happened to me, too.

Sometimes life just freaking whomps.

It is nothing but insane opposites we’re expected to somehow process; all ups and downs, sweet and sour. You can be all breezy-town, enjoying a nice summer day. And then, OW! The other shoe drops. Out of nowhere… on your big toe…when you’re wearing sandals.

So, for real! Why bother picking out an outfit to go back out into the emotional booby trap of a world when there is a perfectly soft and worn in pair of yoga pants and t-shirt for you to live in? Safe on your couch with your DVR. Forever.

Aaaaaaand right HERE, is where luminous Maximum Comfort morphs into its dark and evil sister…The Pits.

Do not panic. Do not tweek. Totally fixable.

The key to discerning Maximum Comfort from The Pits is to locate an object in the vicinity to use as an emotional compass. It should be one of the accessories from your MC/Pits day. Take a deep breath and see how you are relating to said item to get a reading. My emotional compass is the Oreo Cakester.

My love of Oreo Cakesters came from one the Pits-iest moments of them all…a break-up. It was the kind of upset that goes beyond sad. I was closed for freaking business. During that sinkhole of a state, I saw a commercial for this delicious new treat. I swear to you, this was the only thing I could eat for a week. Was it because there’s no dangerous cookie crunch to upset your teeth and push you into a further depression? Maybe it’s because they’re just so dang cute; adorable cartoon versions of real Oreos ready to entertain and keep you company.

“Oh hahaha, Mr. Cakester, I love that song! You’re so funny and you’re my best friend! I shouldn’t call him, right?”

After about a week on this diet, I had a moment of clarity. I was a 31 year old woman eating two Oreo Cakesters for dinner. Something wasn’t right. I wasn’t eating this out of fun just hanging out with myself, a rare Maximum Comfort treat. I was eating them because I was hiding out from the reality of what was really going on. I was nauseously sad. Or maybe that nausea was from the Cakesters? Either way, after about a week, I put them down and then the real feelings came up. Like crazy.

I said this. He said that. My teacher in 5th grade said this, that’s why I said that. It took some time, but I finally realized I was throwing whatever story I could on the walls; desperate for any reason to stick as to why everything felt so painfully wrong. What I really needed was to stop throwing nonsense at the walls and just stand where it’s quiet and still; in the center of the room.

I was sad still, no doubt. But at least I was finally available to make a safe space to take good care of myself. And that, my friends, I know how to do! Comfy pants, ratty t-shirt, and the OCCASIONAL Oreo cakester. I successfully returned from The Pits to safe Maximum Comfort levels.

The Great Cakester incident was about nine months ago and I am happy to report this is one of the happiest, most fulfilled times of my life. So much so that I can’t believe I actually just wrote “happiest, most fulfilled times of my life”! Ewwww…It’s a pretty strange feeling for me to get used to. But remember, I’m not all hoodies and sneakers. The clouds still roll in and right over my face. But now I think the trick to handling all of the conflicting moments that life is made up of, is to not handle them at all! Let the bad stuff come, and then let it pass. Let the beautiful stuff come and let that pass, too. There is room for it all in the center of the room…

…With an appropriate portion of Cakesters.