The Heat Wave In and Out of D.C.

I sit down to write and my mind is blank.  Suddenly I remember all those night-before-major-paper-is-due panic moments in college.

Oh yeah, this isn’t college, no one is grading me (except in comments!) and the topic is one I love so writing this blog is heart work rather than head work.  I get to write about being present and practicing mindfulness and walking steadily through emotions and . . .

(Anyone feel a big ‘ole “yes, but,” coming on?)

Yes, it’s true that I love writing about all those things; but I sure don’t feel like I’ve been practicing what I preach lately.  I haven’t been all that present; I haven’t necessarily been practicing mindfulness and I have been stumbling like a drunken sailor through my emotions.

If you want the unabashed truth, I’ve pushed myself the entire month of July to just get these posts written.  And I do mean pushed.  It’s a good thing I committed last month to writing two posts per week:  Mindful Monday and Thursday Thread.  Without that commitment to you, you may not have heard a peep from me all month.

Today is the 27th consecutive day of 100+ degree heat in the Dallas metroplex so I’m hot and I’m irritable.

At this writing, the Washington politicos are spitting in their colleague’s Wheaties (cleaned that one up, didn’t I?) over whether my dad will receive his Social Security check next week.  Messing with my father makes me hot and irritable too.

Add to both those insults a broken toilet handle, $50 to fill my 13-gallon gas tank and doctor’s office staff who don’t return phone calls and my hot and irritable meter keeps rising.

Oh please.  Cue the tiny violins.

People are dying in this heat wave, for goodness sake.   I was out this afternoon picking up a few things, dropping off others, and letting my car run to stay cool while I dashed in and out. I came home, lessened the amount of clothing on my body, turned the AC down and sprawled in front of an oscillating fan (I own seven or eight) while I called my dad.

Excuse me, do I have the right to complain about the heat?

Let’s put this issue in perspective, shall we?

I am darned lucky–scratch that, to read BLESSED–to have a cool home, money to pay the AC and gasoline bills and a landlord who fixed the toilet handle within 24 hours (and I do have another toilet).

Furthermore, I am BLESSED that there are men and women, regardless of party affiliation, who serve this country as elected officials willing to make decisions that are–let’s face it–way above my pay grade and ability to figure out.

Finally, I am BLESSED by the abilities to both sit and write this message to you.  Many people suffer pain when trying to do either of those two physical necessities which I too often take for granted.

So, I am now officially over my hot and cranky self.  In the words of the great Andy Rooney, “What do you say to that?”

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