[The following is a excerpt from Life is Too Short for One Hair Color, purchase links below]
“I was at Barnes and Noble studying, re-searching, minding my own business. After a brief walk around the store, looking at new titles, I returned to my original table loaded with my own books brought from home to read when I saw an employee picking up extra books on various tables. Immediately, I wondered about my own texts—would the employee understand that these stacked books were mine, previously bought right here at Barnes and Noble, and not ones I was trying to pilfer? Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with guilt. Even though I had truly purchased those books—the receipt was somewhere at home or in the dog’s kennel—this did not matter. I was flooded with anxiety: “She’s going to think I didn’t buy them and now she’s going to say THIEF in front of everyone in this store and they will stone me with thick biographies.”
Continuing in this ridiculous paranoia I walked to the front counter to pay for two books I was now purchasing—not from guilt of course. I hesitantly asked the cashier, what if, say, I really had bought some books before tonight but didn’t have my receipt and had brought them with me right now, but I thought the store people, she, might think I had really stolen them. She blinked. I took it to mean she thought I was a thief. She slowly said to just relax, as if I had an Uzi in my purse, and suggested I keep future receipts in the books.
It was 45 minutes of total stress, on MY NIGHT OUT, about something that wasn’t true but that I felt guilty for.
Ever felt that?
My guilt wasn’t related to non-stolen books but to all things I have done and not ‘fessed up to. Criminal things, like retelling a story and saying it was Elm Street and later realizing it was Pine Street or parking in front of the Do Not Park sign to return a video.
There are two types of people in this world (“Those who like Neil Diamond and those who don’t”) and there are two types of guilt: healthy and pointless. Healthy guilt prompts you to change wrong behavior. Pointless guilt prompts you to eat a box of Ho-Hos. With pointless guilt, you say one thing but think another and mentally carry on several guilt-chats while having a real-life conversation, which, incidentally, annoys real people involved in the real conversation).
It’s time to squeeze the guilt sponge and let the guilt drain out. To do this, try one thing: say to yourself, “I am not perfect.” It sounds simple, even brainless, (“Well, of course I’m not perfect”). Simple things are usually the hardest to practice because of the apparent ease of the process; things like, eat well, exercise regularly, and get adequate rest. No-brainers, guaranteed success, and yet still we say “Oh yes, I should really do that.”
This week try this no-brainer: when you lock yourself out, burn the lasagna or forget your son’s appointment, stop before launching the guilt-attack. Laugh and say “I’m not perfect!” and give the guilt sponge a satisfying squeeze.
Life Tip:
When feeling overwhelmed with guilt, stop and enjoy saying “I’m not perfect!”
Book Pick:
I’m a Day Late and a Dollar Shortby JoAnn Larsen”
[This was an excerpt from Life is Too Short for One Hair Color, 