Wine Not?

It is better to be positive. For some people it’s natural, others have to squint real hard to find the silver lining. Positive is paramount. Perspective saves lives. Negativity puts holes in brains. Knowing the right thing does not mean we abide by it. I know all about the positive but my natural lean is toward the dark side of things. That brooding nature, the overly analytical, endless ‘what if’ thinker, that is the worst of me. The best of me, is bright and shiny to a blinding degree. I enjoy positivity. I crave good vibes, soak up vitamin D and thrive off helping people rise. These days I force myself to do the dog-talk because without it my brain would look like Swiss cheese from the countless holes my negative thoughts punched through it. Exceptional existence is a tri-part formula; mind, body and soul. Every so often I get knocked around, a little beat up, a little bruised. I get a little irked, bugged and sad and more emotional than what I consider appropriate about my issues, insecurities and general First World problems. When this happens, I scroll down my mental checklist to see where I need to recalibrate the balance:

1. Mind: dog-talk and prayers, focused on productive things 80% of the time.

2. Body: Crossfit 5 days a week and counting macros, striving toward body goals.

3. Soul: here’s where the problem might lie. I haven’t left God or rather, He has not left me. However, my spirit is lacking things because it’s one thing to involve God in all that I do but it is not the same as sacrificing time just to be with Him. I have a moral responsibility to up my Jesus game. Anyone with the gift of salvation will tell you that is top priority and I’ve been slacking.

Okay, so the problem is most likely in the soul part of my being but what about all this negativity that’s bubbling up around me? Dormant thoughts and fears that linger in the back of mind. The only difference now is my level of activity, it doesn’t really hit me because I don’t have time to dwell but when I do have time. Oh believe me, I dwell. I dwell hard. I flop into the mire of hollow hopes and goals I haven’t reached and I just weep. I don’t know why. It’s pointless and doesn’t help anything but it happens. I am strong but I am weak. Time to switch gears, rather than be constantly evasive with all the feelings that I feel I am just going to flood it out. Plans are my new thing. I like plans and lists because they help me achieve. That’s so weird to say because it’s a complete 180 from how I used to be, I used to hate lists because I never finished everything on them. Thank the Lord, I have finally begun to get stuff done. It’s just so nice to feel accomplished. Laziness can be great but nothing beats the satisfaction of gaining another victory. If I’m going permit myself to complain, if I’m going to attempt to fix this soul issue, if I’m not going to deny myself feelings; I am going to do it right. I heard a pastor say once that he had a set day of the week to worry. On this day, he would read all the worries from the past week that he had written down and put in a box. By the time ‘worry day’ came around he would read his worries and realize they had either worked themselves out or they were never worth worrying about in the first place. Through this discipline he found peace and freedom, I plan on doing something similar. I am going to give myself a worry day as well.

If the worst of me is not quite dead yet and still insists on rushing out at the worst times, more forcefully now that I have less time to throw pity parties, then I guess I’ll just let it rain. I will let it rain one day a week for two hours. After that it’s back to sunshine. One day per week to whine with wine.  I can do that. I know I can. There is psychological relief happening already now that I have the comfort of a time and place to vent. Controlled spouting, like a firehose preventing a giant disaster, instead vomiting the bile of life on everyone and everything like the exorcist, wreaking havoc that reeks more rancid than the poopnado inside of me. This way it won’t happen too often, it won’t ruin my day and I won’t regret talking about it too much to the wrong people. Negativity leaves a deep stain. Worse than red wine on ivory carpet. Putting that out into the atmosphere is destructive. Hopefully by the time my fret time rolls around I will have forgotten what I wanted to yell about. This could work. Until I’m rejoicing always (with the help of God) this could work!

Recipe for Worry Wednesday:


Prep time: 15min.

  • Timer to keep within the two hour time frame.
  • Journal/jar/box of worries.
  • Wine: red or white, treat yourself to a bottle over $20. CAUTION no hard liquor-this results in going over the time limit and participants will pass out in puddles of misery, making Worry Day a worthless day and invalidating the experiment.
  • More than one participant is not recommended. Worry Day is designed for the individual to vent, reflect and evolve; a process that is most efficient when one is alone for a short time.


Cook time: about 90minutes

1. Have all complaints from the past week cataloged in an orderly fashion. Read one by one. Venting out loud is encouraged but not mandatory. 

2. Worry Day encourages detailed tirades but general unhappy, sarcastic remarks will be accepted. 

3. Suggested categories worth whining about:

  • Work
  • Relationships
  • Romance
  • Academics
  • Mouth noises
  • Construction projects 

4. Include God in the griping so as to not get completely derailed by the doomsday experiment.

Simmer before serving:

Chill: 15min.

1. Journal/jar/box of thankfulness 
2. Repeat the process above. Do not exceed two glasses of wine during the total 120 minutes.

3. Spend the remaining time doing the opposite, focus on personal joys. Be grateful, be thankful, smile about whatever you can. Letting things cool is crucial because getting hit with the light after a dark night can hurt.

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