So my self-help podcast guy has been teaching me to practice greatitude. [Shakespearean aside: Isn't it ironic that you have to go to someone else for self-help?] You may be wondering what greatitude is. You may also be wondering why you're still reading this. I can only answer the first. Greatitude is an attitude of self-appreciation for being grrrreat...it was invented by Tony the Tiger. Obviously, his positive mental attitude took him places. Maybe I should be a cartoon mascot. Boogie the Brown. I would be an anthropomorphasized color swatch from Home Depot with sparkly eyes and big goofy hands in white gloves. Have you ever noticed that Mickey has really swollen hands? Get that mouse a Benadryl and a straw.
I digress. [Aside #2: Why do we say "I digress?" Why assert what we are doing exactly at that moment? That's like saying, "I am moving my mouth in concert with my vocal cords and brain to formulate words." "I am breathing air." "I am blinking while trying not to stare at your cleavage."] I am continuing my initial train of thought now. In practicing greatitude, one meditates statements that declare one's own greatness. Knowing how humble and modest I am (my friends call me Father Theresa), this was obviously a challenge for me. So I've started a carefully planned regimen to follow. Every 11 past the hour, I pull from my Bag of Greatitude (a velvet drawstring purse with scrap of paper fastened to it that says "Greatitude") a single slip of paper from the bushel within and read aloud from it. Each paper contains a statement of Greatitude. Some examples:
I am a unique snowflake landing atop the tongue of life.
I am a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar.
I am a butterfuly emerging from its cocoon.
I am the wind beneath my wings.
I am the extra cherry on an ice cream sundae.
I am the clean pair of underwear you find at the back of your drawer that enables you to hold off on doing laundry for one more day.
I am the two by four hoisted into the air by Hacksaw Jim Duggan.
I am the maple syrup that makes pancakes delicious.
I am the flame that illuminates a birthday cake.
I am an endangered animal but in a positive way.
I am the gloss on a woman's lips.
I am an oasis of awesome...an awe-asis.
And so on and so forth. You get the idea. I really think this exercise of greatitude holds much promise. I think it would work wonders for me. But unfortunatley, everytime I draw a slip of greatitude from the Bag of Greatitude and hold it up to my face, I am only filled with anguish and frustration at the awful reminder that I can't read.
I am a perfect example of illiteracy.
[Aside #3: This The Get Down entry is brought to you by Dragon NaturallySpeaking dictation software from Nuance.]
Friday, December 11, 2009
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1 comment:
i'm pretty sure at least one of your great-itudes is taken from a sociopath serial killer who keeps breaking in and escaping a dollhouse.
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