Not Your Hostess Cupcake

Some days are ugly. Not because of the weather. or something anyone else does. Not because I've come down with a cold. Just because, on that day, for some reason, my inner ugliness decides to have a public stroll. Usually, I do something that is, shall we say, self-destructive to launch the whole affair. When the launch is completed and I have landed squarely in the valley of self-loathing, its all over for anyone who comes into my path.

To keep things in perspective, I'm not cutting myself or going on drinking binges, or anything. I'm not punching anyone or screaming expletives. So, why am I writing about this here? Because my life is a bit public and my ugly days are, perhaps, more public than some. I am the hostess of a community. I espouse to want to generate connection. I seek even the faintest bit of grace in life. So, my ugly days are framed squarely on the wall of the community experience as the epitome of what I hope to reduce in the world. My hyprocisy is there for the viewing. My feelings of shame are magnified.

Grace isn't something you build up a savings of and draw upon until you can make another deposit. It is fleeting. You are blessed with a moment of it and you can only hope to see another. You can't rest on your laurels. The fact that we had a day full of grace on a Saturday, didn't have any bearing on the following Thursday. You might be asking yourself, "So, what happened? Spill it already!"

Last Thursday I drove my daughter to school and witnessed another child being mean to her. She was confused and hurt and I scooted her on by and ushered her into her classroom. In the time that it took to get her to her locker, hand her off to the teacher and run into the other child again, the protective Mother Lion in me had risen. I quietly, but intensely told that child that my daughter didn't understand what was going and that it would be best if he would be nice about it.

Probably just should have spoken to the teachers. My daughter reported to me later that day that the same child chased her around the playground screaming, "I hate you", until she cried.

Meanwhile, I ran a few errands and was stopping to get some lunch. My intention upon entering the food establishment - which was an ice cream parlour - was to get soup. I left with a decaf chai and a chocolate dipped peanut butter cookie. (Could I be poisoning myself as punishment for approaching that child?) Needless to say, my behavior did not improve as the day went on. I was wired for sound. Lots of it pouring out of my non-stop mouth.

Being a Thursday, we had our Thursday night Social Circle. I probably shouldn't have socialized. Because I wasn't that sociable, really. I was edgy. Nothing but sugar and caffeine since about 7am. It wasn't pretty. I wasn't gracious. I was tenaciously righteous with a dose of not-so-passive aggressiveness. Ellen, please forgive me.

Ellen, rather innocently mentioned that she had visited a yoga retreat center and that she felt it improved by the fact that they now serve coffee.

Imagine. Here I am wired on sugar and caffeine, having aimed a little power display at a 6 year-old earlier in the day and now, as a hostess, I'm going to stick my claws into the hypocrisy of coffee at a yoga retreat. And stick, and stick and stick. Oh, the layers...

Its not that there isn't validity to questioning coffee at a yoga retreat. Its that I couldn't keep my mouth shut, or just say me peace and let it go. Saying your peace means being at peace. I guess its obvious that I wasn't.

Even if there is merit in debating the presence of coffee at a yoga retreat, there is a way to do that which is neutral. I feel in retrospect that my continual return the topic wasn't just about the retreat center. After all, Ellen doesn't control their policies. She simply stated her opinion of them. So, was I really attacking her opinion? More layers.

It is clear that my behavior was not warranted and that I owe Ellen and the Thursday night circle an apology. Its also clear that I might want to avoid sugar/caffeine lunches and get some real nourishment in my system. This little act of self-destruction isn't new, though and it will probably take years more introspection to eliminate it from my personality.

In the meantime, I'm public. These transgressions are public. I'm scrutinized. Sometimes harshly. Does my inability to be the perfect Hostess Cupcake on a daily basis mean that I shouldn't host a community? Is it simply too hyprocritical to promote the idea of connection to one another if I'm capable of moments where I'm more connected to my inner demons than the people I'm supposedly communing with? Is it unpardonable that I would cause discomfort to another in a group setting?

I wrestle with these questions all the time. While I strive to improve my behaviors, I know that being in the public eye pushes me along. Also, I tell myself that my imperfection lets others know that they can be embraced without being perfect. I recite to myself my favorite Rumi poem:

Come, come whoever you are
Wanderer, worshipper, lover of leaving
Ours is not a caravan of despair
Though you have broken your vows a thousand times
Come, come again.

I'll continue to wrestle and hope that I'm an acceptable hostess as I continue to receive admonitions and even rejections. And in my better moments, I'll look around and receive the virtual embraces of the wonderful people who grace the doorstep at Circles.