A complaint-free Goddess? Bwahahaaaaa!!!

So at church today, they handed out these magenta rubber bracelets from A Complaint-Free World dot-org with the goal that, every time we bitch about something, we have to move the bracelet to the other wrist.

I’m pretty sure I’d need about a dozen bracelets on each arm like I wore in the ’80s because I am pretty sure I complain more than most. Today’s speaker said the average person complains 15-20 times per day. Amateurs! 🙂

As always, I walk out with more questions that I had going into the service. I was looking forward to today’s lecture because it was all about “containing complaining.” And it kills me that the one thing I excel at, is a mortal sin!

I think the most interesting thing I walked away with was that you’re supposed to tell God everything that’s troubling you, and no one else. With others, the best we’ll get is a little sympathy, and the worst is that we share our cup of bad cheer and bring everybody down with us. Which I disagree with in the fact that therapists would be out of a job, for one, and maybe even the fact that friends would be out of a job, too.

Does that make blogging a sin by proxy, then? That God is hurt when you take your problems to everyone but Him, and when you willingly pay your Web host and your statistics service and not tithe that income to the Lord, are you going to burn in the circle of hell reserved for journalists, paparazzi and Perez Hilton?

I guess I tell my friends some of these things because A) They ask, B) They care and C) They answer me when I talk, even if it’s to say that they don’t know how to help me but that they are willing to help me shoulder the burden because I usually come to my own conclusions after hearing myself talk.

Of course, I could also quote a BarlowGirl song, “I Believe in Love,” to answer that last part:

“I believe in the sun even when it’s not shining
I believe in love even when I don’t feel it
And I believe in God even when He is silent.”

I used to know someone who, when you asked her how she was, she always said, “Can’t complain.” And it wasn’t diluted with a, “No one would listen, anyway.” It was a very simple, effective, even jovial, “Life’s good,” kind of vibe.

I always envied her. I never really knew what she was hiding, if anything at all. I always thought, fuck, I’ll complain on your behalf, then. 🙂

But I try to be careful these days of releasing too much negativity into the world. There’s plenty of that already. On the other hand, lately my calm exterior has started popping some leaks, and vitriol spews from random orifices. (There’s an image. Ew.) And then there’s a part of me who starts to understand those who can’t be happy for anyone else — those who have to try to bring everyone down to their low level. I’m not justifying it, mind you, just saying that sometimes you wish others with happy news would be respectful of the fact that you haven’t had a reason to cheer for quite some time.

But then I have to go all “Law of Attraction” here and remember that goodness begets goodness. Experiencing fun and excitement and joy, even if vicariously, takes root in your mind and brings about more positive things. Instead of complaining about what you don’t have, you focus on what you want and wait for the roots to grow so that the things you want will blossom.

I wholly believe that whatever’s in your mind is what manifests into being, so why waste energy on that which is unworthy? You’ve got to picture what exactly it is that you want so that you’ll know it when it comes your way.

In any event, one thing that was said today was that we should be thankful in — and not always necessarily for — all the situations you find yourself in. On the year anniversary of the end of the world, I don’t know that I could ever find a way to be grateful for/in/whatever that event. My prayers weren’t answered. I don’t have evidence that anyone even heard them.

“Though I can’t see my stories ending
That doesn’t mean the dark night has no end
It’s only here that I find faith
And learn to trust the one who writes my days
So I’ll stand in the pain and silence
And I’ll speak to the dark night. “

When I lost my grandmother, I gave up on faith. But when I lost my grandfather, I wanted to find it again so I could question it. I can accept that things are out of our hands, for the most part. I’m happy to give my burdens up to God so He can point me in the right direction toward solving them. I know I’m only here because He wants me to be — that He put some dreams and purpose in me that I have yet to fully realize. That the relationship I need most is the one with Him before I can get any of the others right.

And that He put a whole lot of hot-looking attendees in the church, I think that was his way of saying hey, here’s your reward for getting up early every Sunday. Maybe He really DOES know what’s best for me, and isn’t above a lil bribery to allow me to keep the faith for another week. 🙂

All right, before this becomes a no-complaint zone (tee hee), I have one last bitch to pitch: arbitrary deadlines. Seriously. *kicks arbitrary deadlines*

*moves bracelet over to other wrist*

This shit is going to get real old, real soon. I might just have to slow down the complaining so I don’t have to stop typing to move my wristband.

Oh well, if wristbands get me to be more thankful, and hot men mean I show up in church more regularly, it doesn’t matter how I’m becoming a better person — just so long as I am. Right?

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