I want a donut.

I just watched Sarah Silverman and Jerry Seinfeld eat donuts.

And, now I want one, too.

Donuts are not really a food that you eat alone.

I think that’s partially why they are symbolic of joy and why they are so desirable.

I do have a problem with donuts, though.

It’s the same problem that I have with pizza.

It goes like this…

It’s a treat.

I get excited about the idea of it.

Then I remember the past.

I avoid it.

Then, one day, I decide it’s the day OR...someone else decides it’s the day.

Either way, it’s kind of exciting, but I also have a little bit of underground anxiety and shame. I kind of just want to be alone with the donuts or the pizza.

I like the community aspect that gets me what I want and allows me to feel as though I’m part of a special and joyous occasion or a part of a mischievous gang.

But then I must face the truth, and the truth is, I just don’t want or need any witnesses. Also, I don’t really need or want the competition either. I dislike the feeling of being so hyper aware and observant of myself observing myself observe others observing themselves and covertly observing me also; and vice versa.

Although, the truth is, almost everyone else is playing the same “me vs” game. It’s very much like life. Exposed. Or, maybe like what democracy feels like in a capitalist society. (Upper middle class + “Fight Club” mentality.)

Round 1 approach: trying to respectfully indulge, using a plate and remembering people can see me and the way I interact with my food (and the way I interact them as a means to an end, and also because I’m grateful — we’re in this together. It’s  all authentic as it is obligatory, we all get it.) Two halves of different donuts seems more polite than one whole donut and it’s also a good set up strategy for the inevitable additional rounds ahead. For pizza, two slices, maybe the same flavor, maybe different, but no matter what they must fit side-by-side on the plate (a stack of slices seems greedy for round 1).

Round 2 approach: no plate, just walking by looking like I’m on my way to somewhere else, but it appears necessary to pull over. It looks like too many or barely any leftovers and that seems impolite, or like I haven’t really indulged enough to truly celebrate this joyous occasion. This is the “napkin + thoughtful face” round...slowly, grabs a napkin.with or without words, my face says, “Hmm...now which one of these haven’t I tried?” Or, “Mmm…I just have to try one more bite of this because it was sooo delicious.” (I do not look up. Remember our silent agreement — don’t look at me, don’t look at me, I’m don’t see what you’re doing, I’m not watching you either.)

Round 3 approach: same as Round 2, as long as no one who witnessed Round 2 is around.

Round 4 approach: this is where it all changes, no real feeling of shame, but enough shared out loud  to make it sound like I’m remorseful with a sense of humor. I am not. I’ve reached the tipping point and I actually feel real joy, no more competition, it’s just me and not “me vs”. If I don’t make it to round 4, which I rarely do, then I generally have guilt and shame, but not in an accountable, non-detrimental way.

This is the reason I gave up pizza and chips until my next birthday and maybe longer — it’s exhausting. Now, what to do about donuts…

Thank you for following @blueprintwellness.life to see my #writing #alltheloveandnoexcuses #120daysadhana unfold.

Brightly,
Laura Peppin