I'm reading this awesome book by SARK called Transformation Soup. All her books are generous with respect to human nature, but this one has really charmed me.

She reminds me of my own frailty, and long-standing habit of covering it up. I have a habit of wanting to look composed at any cost; when my father died, for instance, I was mashing potatoes, and later I was embarassed because I started stamping the masher into the bowl. This is silly. Like many people, I tend to compartmentalize which emotions are appropriate where, and to what extent, and I'm not very generous with myself.

I used to get really drunk and erupt bottled emotions everywhere. It was messy as hell, uncalled-for, inappropriate and yet strangely healthy. At least I was expressing myself. A disadvantage of sobriety is that I can get away with keeping my surfaces clean. If I want to conceal my rage or grief or terror, I can do it; this was not possible when I was eight beers in.

But God, it takes a lot of guts to show yourself when you don't have to do it. Concealing my true feelings is just another way of hiding. Even a smile is a mask when there's turbulence beneath it.

So SARK reminds me: cry more often. Take more naps. Be less perfect. When I'm scared, lonely, bored, pissed off, annoyed, frenzied, ashamed of myself or just plain tired, I can admit it. She reminds me that I don't have to be put together.

Thanks SARK. I'm succulent and turbulent and transformative all at once.

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