livin' la vida Thumper

I was pretty quiet last week. I'd been on a real blogging streak for a while, words and words and words, but suddenly just fell dumb, didn't write much at all, didn't post.

I was livin' la vida Thumper.

That's right: sometimes when I can't say somethin' nice, I don't say nothin' at all.

This is the funny flip-side of being a committed Pollyanna, I suppose. I'm so hell-bent on not being negative that when I hit those snags, those periods when all I want to do is bitch and moan, instead I hit the mute.

And in that silencing of my own voice, I sit back and think about whatever it is. 

Until I can find a better way than bitching and moaning, to express the thing that's bothering me. I keep it under wraps, though. You might not know I'm doing it, actually, since even so, I try to keep the sun shining in my own sky.

Sometimes I'm livin' la vida Thumper for an hour, sometimes months. Sometimes I'm livin' it for years.

The thing about this silent treatment is that I know it's a withdrawal, a contraction. That's how it feels, a sea star pulling my legs in closer, turtle pulling back into her shell. Because it's a contraction, I am wary, watchful. And yet I no longer resist it. I know that without this contraction, this inward-turn while I figure myself out, I won't get the big expansion from that stronger, clearer core that inevitably comes from the quiet. I won't learn everything I possibly can, if I miss this opportunity to take it in, take that irritating sand, turn it, turn it, and emerge with a pearl.

And with nicer words on my tongue.

I used to feel bad about this quiet. I'm sure it's can be puzzling, how I can be all jumping-around-clapping one second and then disappear the next, selectively. But I know it's right, since on the other side of it, I'm always happier, always better, always stronger.

Who knew this gorgeous gem of a Disney movie would live in me for all of my life in this particular way, giving me this little refuge of la vida Thumper? Inspiration comes from unlikely sources. Lessons, too.

Oh, and you can call me Flower if you want to. ;>

xo