I’m gung-ho like the Ultimate Warrior when he runs into the side rope and bounces off of it and brings an upper arm clothesline to anyone who crosses his path.
Do you ever feel that invigorated? Well, I do, and it’s a dangerous space for me.
It’s here I dream the big dreams. And where I shoot the most enormous rockets into the depths of the universe. And expand my heart to the people in my life and shoot cupid love hearts in their direction.
Did you receive one? If you didn’t, here ya go. Ka-powski!
I struggle with wanting to be better than others. Like there’s a little stretch-Armstrong bully inside me (I haven’t a clue why I picked Stretch, but still, watch this) that brings its bushwhacker arms across the wrestling mat and bowls over any left-standing human pins.
That’s no way to be, is it?
This uber-competitive aspect inside me fears falling behind. But, behind in what? What does behind even mean?
It seems like the competition has something to do with control. In my relationship with Dave, I’m tracking the times I want to control a situation. This morning, for example, I felt frustrated with him for not putting sunscreen on Evelyn then I told him he shouldn’t get a backpack he wanted to carry Eveyn’s things when they’re out and about.
The rats making a nest in my chest tells me I feel embarrassed at such a stupid tit-for-tat. But not to worry I’m on it, acknowledging it, and planting little love flower seeds in its place.
Well, it’s the second to last sleep before “I’m leaving on a jetplane..” sing it with me now. “Don’t know when I’ll be back again. Oh, babe, I hate to go…..
Cuz I’m LEEAAAVVVV-IN on a jet plane.”