. . . a blessing was lost!
I call it “the horrible sinking feeling.” It occurs when I get hungry, even though my blood sugar may be perfectly normal. (I’ve checked it at times, including this morning.) I get fuzzy-headed and have this empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Sometimes I feel sleepy. This morning it happened again as I sat in the lecture of the Bible study group I attend. The teaching director is a wonderful woman who always has great insights; I enjoy and profit from her very much. But I was struggling to stay alert.
What on earth was wrong? It was the horrible sinking feeling, I realized. Half of my mind was on what the speaker was saying; half was on myself and how much I’d like a snack. I managed to listen, take notes and gain some real insights. How much more I would have gotten out of it, though, if I’d just had a small bag of almonds or a granola bar with me. I could have eaten it during the break and been able to concentrate much more fully.
There have been many times when the HSF has struck. I can remember especially a beautiful hike that we took on a vacation many years ago. We were heading to a waterfall, having checked the hiking map at the trailhead, and thought we’d be able to complete the round trip in plenty of time before dinner. But the trail went on and on. We hated to give up and so we kept going, but I was having a very hard time. I was actually reduced to asking several people we passed if by any chance they had a granola bar to spare; no one did. They looked at me pityingly; it’s very embarrassing to admit to this story now! Finally we got to the falls, which were pretty, and headed back. At some point I recovered a bit, my theory being that my body had finally given up on getting any food and had started dipping into fat reserves. I guess I made the hike memorable, but not in a good way!
So why on earth don’t I make sure that I have something to eat every time I head out the door? Lack of foresight, lack of planning, lack of memory. A terrible tendency to think, “Oh, it’ll be okay,” or “I don’t want to bother.” Why did I end up getting caught in a heavy rainstorm at the Grand Canyon without a jacket? I didn’t bother to pack one; I didn’t remember all the times I’ve been caught unawares in the past. Or why did I have to limp to the rec center recently to call Jim to come pick me up when I tripped and fell on my walk? I didn’t have my cell phone with me. I say that I should remember to carry it with me; it’s been a real problem any number of times for me not to have it. But I don’t learn from the past very well at all.
So maybe I should grow up a little. The classic definition of maturity is “taking the long view.” I would also add, “thinking ahead.” Here I am, well into middle age, and I’m still behaving like a child much of the time. Part of this behavior may be some unconscious rebellion against my mother, who, as I used to say, packed as if she were Admiral Peary conquering the North Pole. Every possible contingency had to be provided for. There’s a happy medium somewhere in there between her and me, though, and it’s kind of silly for me to shoot myself in the foot just because I don’t want to be like my mom!
Well, it’s a process. So much of success in life lies in those small actions that I find so irksome. Hey, I need to tell myself, just deal with it!