I love my chiropractor, I really do. He helps my back.
Today, however, I went in there for my monthly back crunch, and he was stoked on McDonald's Sweet Iced Tea, by his own admission.
Now, he's usually an obnoxiously upbeat, seven habits kind of guy...very "positive thinking, success is my friend" etc. type of person. I like him, I really do, despite these personal quirks.
But today...Oh....he rubbed me the wrong way. It was the sugar and the caffeine. Scary combination in a person so naturally upbeat and gregarious.
I mean, my husband is also a sugar and caffeine fiend, but in his case, it keeps his pulse going. He's so low key and mellow that I'd hate to see him if he MISSED a fix. (Ok, scratch that...I yell at him when he goes too long without his Mountain Dew...) But Dr. Mike on caffeine and sugar...
Let's just say this gal who has PMS did NOT appreciate it.
First he comes barreling in the room: "How ARE your workouts coming along?!!!?" "Ummmmm, workouts?"..."I walk?".
And then he launched into a speech on how he's getting up at 4:45 am every day to go work out and if HE can do it, so can I!
Oh. Slay me. I'm SO enthused.
4:45 am you say? NOT! (Doesn't this guy remember I have fibro???? Didn't he walk me through over a year of fruitless weight lifting workouts when I got neither thinner, nor (in the end) stronger, thanks to my illness?) Nope, the sugar and caffeine have wiped his memory.
And then the conversation progresses, regresses...something. He ends up saying that he believes that God rewards excellence, ignores mediocrity and smites stupidity.
OK, yeah. Whatever.
Obviously the man is not a theologian.
Or has never met Jesus. Who came to the lame. The sick. The poor. The blind, hungry, maimed, demon possessed. Who came to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the year of the Lord's favor. Never met Jesus who talked about taking up a cross and following Him. Who was crucified. Who died.
Yes, God rewards excellence. But perhaps it is a different kind of excellence than the getting up at 4:45 am to work out and get "body beautiful". And perhaps it is just the sort of excellence that is only one thing: a clarity of vision that enables one to pray with the Publican "Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner!"
Personally, I'd rather call a spade a spade than to force myself to be happy, happy, happy! in order to try and prove something to the rest of the world.
I'm reminded of St. Isaac the Syrian: "This life is given to you for repentance. Do not waste it on vain pursuits."
And of course I can only ever think of the right words in retrospect. Sigh.
Today, however, I went in there for my monthly back crunch, and he was stoked on McDonald's Sweet Iced Tea, by his own admission.
Now, he's usually an obnoxiously upbeat, seven habits kind of guy...very "positive thinking, success is my friend" etc. type of person. I like him, I really do, despite these personal quirks.
But today...Oh....he rubbed me the wrong way. It was the sugar and the caffeine. Scary combination in a person so naturally upbeat and gregarious.
I mean, my husband is also a sugar and caffeine fiend, but in his case, it keeps his pulse going. He's so low key and mellow that I'd hate to see him if he MISSED a fix. (Ok, scratch that...I yell at him when he goes too long without his Mountain Dew...) But Dr. Mike on caffeine and sugar...
Let's just say this gal who has PMS did NOT appreciate it.
First he comes barreling in the room: "How ARE your workouts coming along?!!!?" "Ummmmm, workouts?"..."I walk?".
And then he launched into a speech on how he's getting up at 4:45 am every day to go work out and if HE can do it, so can I!
Oh. Slay me. I'm SO enthused.
4:45 am you say? NOT! (Doesn't this guy remember I have fibro???? Didn't he walk me through over a year of fruitless weight lifting workouts when I got neither thinner, nor (in the end) stronger, thanks to my illness?) Nope, the sugar and caffeine have wiped his memory.
And then the conversation progresses, regresses...something. He ends up saying that he believes that God rewards excellence, ignores mediocrity and smites stupidity.
OK, yeah. Whatever.
Obviously the man is not a theologian.
Or has never met Jesus. Who came to the lame. The sick. The poor. The blind, hungry, maimed, demon possessed. Who came to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the year of the Lord's favor. Never met Jesus who talked about taking up a cross and following Him. Who was crucified. Who died.
Yes, God rewards excellence. But perhaps it is a different kind of excellence than the getting up at 4:45 am to work out and get "body beautiful". And perhaps it is just the sort of excellence that is only one thing: a clarity of vision that enables one to pray with the Publican "Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner!"
Personally, I'd rather call a spade a spade than to force myself to be happy, happy, happy! in order to try and prove something to the rest of the world.
I'm reminded of St. Isaac the Syrian: "This life is given to you for repentance. Do not waste it on vain pursuits."
And of course I can only ever think of the right words in retrospect. Sigh.
Comments
Who defines what happiness or success is? What might make you and I happy and successful, might be way off base for someone else. To each his(or her) own.
PMS or not, you are an amazing and successful woman to me Alana!!!
Joi
Sorry- I'll stop commiserating- it's probably not for your salvation or mine. Rrr...
Maria
I don't think so well on my feet either.
'dja ask if he gets up at 4:45 for his workout and then takes care of his kids, or does his -- WIFE -- do that??
Thinking of you all very often and missing everyone! T'dora
I swear, some chiropractors. I had one who a) allowed a female masseuse to have me strip completely while doing her work, and then came into the room; and b) while working on me, told me I had a "spirit of death" about me. Nice. Too bad there weren't objective witnesses around.
Oh, and who made him the judge of what "mediocrity" is? Sometimes it's a full-on battle to get up, where someone else's full-on battle would be to run that extra half mile. Our struggle is what we're given, you silly man.