Acceptance

Meadow once said we should write our fears to the point of completion.  In all my writing, all my obsessing, all my worry over weight, what if my fear is that I will never solve it?  What if I die still worried and obsessing over the ice cream, the pizza, the cookie, the jeans I can no longer wear and the jeans I need to buy to fit my new weight? What if it will not be solved and is instead my faithful companion for life - this frustration between restriction and gluttony? What if I never find the completion of balance? What if I am supposed to make friends with the dilemma? What if I am supposed to make friends with the struggle?  What if I am supposed to accept this voice in my head as my best friend for life? What if this is what makes me human? What if I let go of the need to solve, the need to fix, the need to no longer hear the debate in my mind?

I wrote all of the words above and had a thought that this may be acceptance.  Not acceptance that I should just eat what I want when I want.  Not acceptance that I keep to a very strict regiment, abandoning all the evils of sugar and flour and larger portion sizes.  But acceptance that I will always battle between the two.  I will always look for the middle way, the balance, and I may never find it.  The acceptance lies somewhere in the knowing that the battle of extremes will always be with me, and that my resistance to accepting that is where the struggle lies.