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Please pass the ointment. And that flashlight……

27 Apr

We all have a butt crack. This is the blunt truth. Now, if you are reading on (knowing that my mother has, at this point, clicked the “off” button of her internet and switched to MA-JONG. We, in our house, did NOT speak of such things…) and am wondering why i would bring up the obvious, it is this: although we all have one, most people ACT like we don’t. Some people don’t want any reference to it, and although it serves a very important purpose, some think of it as separate and bad, sick or wrong parts of our bodies.

Again, why would i point out the obvious? Because, life is like the butt crack. I received a sweet gift. I got to hot tub with Dina today, and during that short time we reflected on how, like some parts of our bodies that we may not be happy with, some parts of our past or present may seem distasteful, even if they serve a perfectly functional purpose. And we certainly don’t want to TALK about something distasteful, for chicken sake. Even though it may be obvious to everyone else except us, we don’t want to call attention to it.

Story 1. I spent my growing up years fascinated by the knowledge that Thanksgiving Day would come around every year, and at that point a certain relative would come over. This relative was quite brilliant, loved to chat, and was also (to a 5 year old girl) ENORMOUS. The folds and curves of him were fascinating, but the Butt Crack that he toted over to the only chair that would hold him…. well, that was nothing short of miraculous. It went on and on. My brother and i secretly measured it once. It was exactly 3 blocks and a doll tall. (We were that good.) Now here is the thing. Although i knew it was an enormous butt crack to me, it was just part of our relative. It was ONE PART of this relative. With the same importance tied to it as the game he had so brilliantly taught me. The topics he bantered with me about. The laughs he laughed. It just was. But i did notice that he only made sure the chair was pointed in 1 direction, so his butt crack pointed to the wall at all times. Nor would he leave his post. He had some shame associated with his butt crack, or the fact that it was larger by far than his pants and shirt. Now did it stop us from playing or associating with him? Nope. But it did stop him from hanging out in the kitchen with the rest of the adults, and hey, i got to learn Othello because of it.

Story 2. A man walks into a bar…. Ok, it wasn’t a bar, it was a house. He asks his wife to look at his delicate area because he has some kind of …. fungus on it, and can’t get rid of it. Now this is a man who is straight-laced, very successful socially, and cannot stand the fact that there is a flaw on his otherwise carefully cultivated and manicured image. Nevertheless, his body has made it obvious that there is SOMETHING that needs attending to. His wife, icked out as she is at the idea of the fungus, obliges her husband as he bends over, spreading wide, and shines a bright light in the dark recesses of his crack. The point? She wasn’t icked, necessarily (NECESSARILY) at the bending and cracking, but at the fungus, which had gotten way past the point it needed to, because of his embarrassment of having anything wrong in the first place, let alone the location of the flaw. Needless to say, he did his own application of the ointment, and generously so. (Interestingly, he did not thank his wife for her dedication in partnership, but warned her of ever sharing this story to anyone. And, she doesn’t do threats well, luckily for us πŸ™‚

Story 3. Me: After Dina and I get out of the hot tub, making sure i’ve secured the hot tub lid in place by balancing it on my back as i teeter over the side, climb down the ladder (did i mention they are still building the deck? um, i’m just that dedicated and excited to get in the bubbling mist of pleasure…) and walk through a bit of mud and grass up another deck and back in the house. It’s been a good soak and we have solved all the mysteries of the universe. No, this isn’t Dina’s house. She was up for the adventure though, and let me tell you what. when i called her 3 days later with some news, she was rethinking the brilliance of my wild side. What news??? OHHHH That i had little itchy, red pimply looking dots all over my torso and BUTT! What i thought was hives brought on by a bout of stress at the thought of going back to a life less than ideal, turned out to be FOLICULITIS…… or hot tub rash, caused by not enough chemicals in the tub, mostly by 1st time owners who are newbies at it. hehehe And yes, yes Dina did get her fair share of them, too. πŸ™‚ On her birthday, no less. It’s the gift that keeps on giving…

We just got to own these little dots. with ointment, cream, and patience, letting our bodies tell us what it needed (chocolate, a good book, some sleep, and benadryl) it came to completion on it’s own. And that is how life is also, i’m finding. Life is like a butt crack, or foliculitis, or any other odd fungal oddity. we don’t always like what we find, or what we find that we have. but once we own up to it, and figure out what we can learn from it, we can move on, through, around, and forward. With or without the Othello. I choose just to lean in. I don’t always choose the spiritual, mental, emotional, or physical fungus that comes into m;y life, but i can choose to suffer in silence, or get the best ointment out there, whether it is Othello, benadryl, chocolate, or even ….blogging about butt cracks…. it is what it is.

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Posted by on April 27, 2009 in Life

 

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