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Give me serenity or give me death! Or shoes! Or chocolate! Or something sparkly…

Americans are a funny people, and American culture is even more comical.  It is considered bad form to admit personal failure, but television commercials would lead you to believe that the entire country is populated with fat, stupid slobs who can’t use a paper towel without some overly styled soccer mom judging your technique.  If TV is to be believed, Americans homes are so rank and smelly that they need a timer-released automatic freshener in each room, as well as a life supply of Lysol.  We all have bad skin, yellow teeth and sweat profusely.  Wow.  We’re a bunch of WINNERS!  (Please bless you can actually wipe the sarcasm off your screen.)  I don’t get it, we believe admitting failure is the ultimate self-shame, but we are bombarded with High Definition messages that we, as a collective, are the ultimate FAIL.  And here’s the kicker, hundreds of thousands of people buy into this advertising!  It baffles me.

I don’t really want to rant on commercial advertising leading to massive consumerism of product that are, in many ways, redundant and could be eliminated completely with some basic hygiene, physically, domestically and mentally. Moving on…

Experts agree that regular check-ups with a physician are beneficial; wear sunscreen, keep tabs your moles, do monthly self-examinations to detect irregular lumps in your breasts, floss, get a tooth cleaning every six months (and get it from Dr. Mac, he’s fab). Most Americans will agree with these “experts” without putting up too much of a fuss.

Now, in my personal opinion a semi-annual mental health check-up is also necessary.  It’s exactly like a tooth cleaning, or a colon cleanse…only without the Novocaine or messy side effects.  Therapy is like perpetual spring cleaning on your brain, get rid of all the dusty corners, hidden skeletons and nasty gunk that messes with your emotions and slows you down.  I really wonder why more people don’t believe in this; it’s not admitting failure, even the most careful brushing and flossing can still leave you with a cavity, or a soft spot on the way-in-the-back molar.  Messy life stuff can sometimes leave you with some ugly bits lurking in the corners and the way-in-the-back places.

With the several dozen Major Life Changes I’ve had in the last few months I thought it would be beneficial to let my shrink, Dr. Nancy, give me the once over, you know, check me out for gunk and dust.  She says I’m okay; great, even.  I believe the term she used was “serene,” in fact. I don’t think I’ve ever been described as “serene”, nor has my life ever had the overarching feeling of serenity.  The uncanny likeness to a soap opera, sure, but not serenity.  Here’s the kicker, I actually agree with her, and I like it.  I feel it; and it kind of feels like I have somehow arrived as a Real Life Adult or something.  I’ve got all my little pink ducks in a row.

Sure, I’ve still got issues and things to deal with and am in no way perfect–my apartment is cluttered, my bedroom is dusty, the tub hasn’t been scrubbed in more weeks than I will publicly admit and I don’t even own paper towels to clean up the toughest messes, I generally use a rag and generic-issue 409.  I don’t bleach my teeth or dye my hair and yesterday I had brownies for breakfast.  But I am feeling very zen!  I do yoga, I meditate, I have been running again and have been spending some quality time doing things that make me happy.  I have arrived.  And that, folks, is all there is to it.  Serenity is my sparkly little key to happiness.

Boredom is the feeling that everything is a waste of time; serenity, that nothing is.

–Thomas S. Szasz

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