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All Things in Moderation

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Jayne Dullahan


The theme-cum-strange phenomenon of the day. And perhaps something worth keeping in mind embarking on a blog.

Inspired by so many others, particularly here, to make the blog whatever one wants, encouraged by the common link we share, to be read or not to be read and anyway perceived by a kind, intelligent, international community. A sentence that isn't a sentence; hardly a suitable beginning. I will keep them, as all things should be, in moderation.

I miss moderation. I long for a period in which moderation is abundant, is all things, in which all things might dwell. I have too much: time. sun. heat. thought. worry. debt. saturated fats. fruits. pasta. of a lot of things. I do not have enough: differentiation. rain. cold. distraction. confidence. money. general fats. vegetables (especially potatoes!). pancakes. of a lot of things. ['a lot of things,' the common denominator and foundation of moderation, and yet...]

I contemplated all this, and the fact that it all descended upon me at once into my life of dark moderation, as I sat among too many cars on a road that was too small in the inescapable sun listening to the motor whirrrr, inching forward toward the next extreme. The ultimate. The top ten. Fifteen. If you only discover it all, eat only the right things, extremity of moderation, all will be well, all will be well, no disease, no depression, wellness, that -(n)ess emphasizing the unattainable essence good humanity is expected to strive for, and slyly-semantically implying that women are slightly more likely to buy it. And two articles that addressed the point from other angles, perhaps advocating moderation, but advocating a less exhaustive drive to achieve it. In diet and psychotherapy. The two topics most frequently visible in women's magazines, always (it seems, here) addressed to women. I never wanted to believe that. And it depends on the source. But there's a way in which those your-easily-accessible-life-coach people stand, talk, smile, touch their fingers together, narrate their stories, it's clear who their audience is. Must it always be so? Where is the moderation they want us to achieve?

There is a shift afoot, oh yes, and I hope it's headed toward me, too; rather than partitioning neurosis into files of memories to be understood in their entirety, or divided into healthy food groups that will lead to the ultimate wellness, it does not seek an answer which will emerge if only we look hard enough (and then we have found answers no doubt, but they turn out to be insufficient, and we feel robbed) but rather suggests that we accept a certain lack of control while recognizing a certain amount of it. A different moderation. You can't stop some things. And you don't always deserve better. And to my utter surprise, I heard it all succinctly stated by a radio talk show host, who said [i paraphrase, of course]: attempt to insert yourself in your way, where you find a spot. But don't muscle for the top spot--you'll lose. Well, here I am. Waiting out the tidal wave of excess, not fighting, not muscling.

A little more moderation in waiting wouldn't hurt, though.

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