Some of my wisest and weightiest thoughts occur to me when I’m naked and wet.
Did I grab your attention? Nah, don’t get too excited, I get some kaboom brainstorms in the shower. So many of us do.
Brainstorm In Shower Moment:
Last week was no exception. This particular brainstorm in the shower moment came at the end of a long, cold run and I was energetically in a very peaceful place. The exercise endorphins still making their way around my body and brain, I found myself daydreaming a bit longer than usual.
Typically, I am not one to take long showers. That pleasurable habit abruptly ended with motherhood and I usually still shower like a toddler is standing next to my shower, screaming/crying uncontrollably, with a broken toy in his hand.
They say endorphins simulate the effects of morphine in our body (without the addiction part). Although some may argue that addiction to exercise is a real thing.
So while I don’t recall the exact impetus of the the ping-pong-like thread of observations that poured over me in this particular shower, I can tell you that it boiled down to a hardcore realization that I am at the beginning and end of ALL of the things — the good the bad, the neutral.
What does that even mean? Did I become delusional? Maybe endorphins are a bit more morphine-like than they are given credit for.
Our Own Choice:
“That is singularly the most frightening and beautiful thought.”
The reality is we own all the good and bad stuff that happens to us. Ultimately, how we show up is our own choice. No one else’s. No one. Everything begins and ends with us. That is singularly the most frightening and beautiful thought.
What brought me to this realization? As so many other occurrences in my life, glimmers of brilliance are uncovered within the mundane and the ordinary. That’s nothing to write home about… maybe even, nothing to write Smack about, either. But here goes anyway.
My partner and I had gone to brunch the day before. Neither of us are nighttime people — heck we are barely evening people anymore. So we enjoy the brunch scene fairly frequently. Usually it comes as a reward for exercise and getting our chores done.
One of our favorite places, Mercato, is a locally owned pizza establishment whose pizza is the best, bar none. We frequent this place enough that the chef-owner knows us by site. (I don’t believe I can be cocky enough to say by name. Maybe I’ll test that out on our next visit.)
This particular brunch was not much different than all its predecessors except my boyfriend decided not to participate in the wine portion of brunch. Me? Yeah, who is kidding whom?
After our meal, my sole intention for the rest of the afternoon was to enjoy the post-brunch wine buzz and pleasantly full belly while binge-watching Amazon Prime’s best-ever production, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.
Moments Of Clarity:
“How did I not know this about myself? How did I not see years of behavioral patterns?”
The next morning, it hit me in the shower that when I got home after the brunch and changed out of my “leaving the house” clothes, I had opted for one of my boyfriend’s sweatshirts. Then it equally hit me – the significance of my desire to change out of my current shirt/sweater combination into something of his. There it is – I desired to wear something of his.
How did I not know this about myself? How did I not see years of behavioral patterns? Why this brainstorm in shower moment? Never too late, right?
When I am “into” someone (in this case, my boyfriend), I desire to wear their shirt, sweatshirt or their alma mater sweater — it brings me a feeling of closeness or belonging. This predilection is nothing new — somewhere in my house I have a collection of once-cherished shirts from previous lovers. But when I am “not feeling it,” not feeling connected to my boyfriend… well, good thing I have a closet full of alternative clothing options.
So after a collection of apparel and years, it finally dawned on me. Ultimately whether or not I’m “into” that person, on a daily basis, is my choice. Sure, everyone’s emotions fluctuate – of course. But that brainstorm in the shower moment washed away years of passive acceptance. Now does that mean my entire wardrobe consists only of over-sized men’s shirts and jeans? Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Maybe I need to reconsider the garment choice? My boyfriend does have a drawer full of socks and underwear.
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