A few years ago, I was given to doing (unsolicited, oddly enough) an incredibly poor take on Yoda dispensing advice. I think the original exhortation was along the lines of “there is no ‘try’; only ‘do’” or something similarly zen-by-way-of-Lucas-like.
Anyway, “no try…do” became my credo for an embarrassingly long time (“embarrassingly” because really, if it’s a Guiding Principle, shouldn’t one make sure it’s elegant as well as succinct?). And now, equally embarrassingly, I am adopting this rather pathetic, semi-pithy anti-consumerist credo. Dorothy Parker, I’m not.
Worse, I will be buying things still: I must eat; my landlord has this thing about rent. But lately I’ve found myself resorting to Retail Therapy a bit too often for my tastes. Sure, it’s all tax-deductible and/or purchased at the local Goodwill, but still — it’s the principle of the thing. I’m running from something and I done give up runnin’, son.
So I’m turning inward. I’m shining that big, fat spotlight on the interior of my soul and scattering the cockroaches. Thank you, my virtual friends. Let the cleansing begin…