King of Guilt

photo by Jeff Crump

I felt guilty all day yesterday about shirking my blogging responsibilities (a phrase I know is ridiculous in its conception).  It doesn’t take much to make me feel guilt.  I pretty much walk around in a constant state of contrition.  It’s exhausting.

Oddly enough, the guilt I felt about blogging was brought on by guilt I was trying to avoid.  I chose to go running instead of write so that I could listen to some new music I had downloaded.  Really listen.  The idea of lounging on my couch and listening made guilty shivers run up my arms.  If I tried to listen while cleaning, I’d be distracted by the multitude of chores, armfuls of misplaced items, entire warrens of dust bunnies burrowing in the corners, and how on earth did someone manage to get oatmeal on the ceiling!  Is the music over, already?  Running was my only guilt-free option. 

So, I ran.  And, you know what?  It was a great run.  The sun was shining brightly, and the cool autumn air hung like spun gold in the tree branches making the just-about-to-turn leaves sparkle.  I like sparkly things!  It was the greatest run I’ve had since I was in the second grade when I finally beat this girl we all called Goose in the schoolyard dash.  When she ran, she leaned forward and stretched her neck out long like a goose about to take flight.  I can’t remember her real name, but, man, could she run.

I think the reason the run was amazing was that it wasn’t actually about the exercise, it was all about the music.  Each song moved my legs forward without my tired brain willing them.  I swear I was running, but it felt more like dancing.  Okay, except that once when I stopped running for just a second to do a little hip shimmy thing, but when the music moves you . . . right?  The elderly couple walking their dog was kind enough to pretend I was just having a seizure and did I need medical assistance?  No, thanks, it has passed.  I’ll just run now. 

I’m kind of wishing I could have that sort of single-mindedness more often.  Like when I’m supposed to be listening to my son explain the intricate details of his new Lego set.  Somewhere after hearing about the block that connects to the other block that makes the next block do something, I’m off in my own world wondering what to make for dinner, don’t forget to call the pediatrician, where did I leave that permission slip, and why is it that my left foot is bigger than my right, but my right boob is bigger than the left?  Is that for balance?  Odd . . . oh, yes, Legos are fascinating.  Mommy is definitely listening.

If you were wondering, I do spend a great deal of effort feeling very guilty that I don’t share my son’s zeal for Legos.  I can’t even fake it anymore.  Bad mommy.  Very guilty. 

Just think how many things I could accomplish in a day if I was as focused as I was on that run.  Normally I’m buried in various thoughts on a run, but I swear I heard only the music.  My only thoughts were those of the musicians singing.   Eminem (his music is a very guilty pleasure for me) said it was okay to Lose Yourself in the Music.  He’s very persuasive.  Who am I to argue?  Maroon 5 crooned, “I am in misery.  There ain’t nobody that can comfort me,” as I headed up a most dreadful hill (yes, with a headwind, there’s always a headwind).  I had to laugh because there is nothing misery loves more than company.  In the end, as the finish was in sight, Sarah Bareillas offered to hold my martyr’s crown and wondered aloud, “Who died and made you king of anything.”

Yeah, who did die and crown me king of anything?  I don’t want to be the king?  All that responsibility.  Responsibility I’ll never live up to and then feel guilty about.  Obligations I can never keep.  And don’t get me started on the Jester.  I hate clowns. 

Without that crown, I felt a lot lighter.  I covered the distance from my neighborhood’s entrance to my front porch feeling so free of remorse, free of self-reproach, free to just enjoy the few things I had accomplished and not fret the thousands I may never get to.  The next thing I knew I was staring at my front door.

I sat at my computer still free from the weight of my guilt and enjoyed catching up with all the blogs I love to read but have no time for.  Next thing I knew I had run out of time to properly write and had to go for the punt.  Hold up.  Let me go get my crown back.