Scott says I need to lighten up, but I just can’t

You know me. I’m about as upbeat as they come. Once, when I perkily approached a somber teenaged peer sitting on the steps outside the auxiliary building during a break from youth group activities, he glumly turned towards me to ask, “Are you ever NOT happy?” It’s in my bones.

But Scott informed me that, in the blog, I’ve sorta been a downer lately.

Nothing has changed about my optimistic wiring, I assure him (and you). It’s just that I find myself yearning to get messy and uncomfortable in the murky depths of junk. ALL SORTS OF JUNK. Bring it, Junk!

Injustice, bring it.
Racism, bring it.
Violence in young people, bring it.
Social isolation, bring it.
Opioid epidemic in this country, bring it.
Mental health, bring it.
Technology addictions and imbalance, bring it.
Homelessness, bring it.
Bullying, bring it.
Suicide, bring it.

I’m not scared and I’m not in denial about You which impair us and pose obstacles for us, Junk. I won’t be off-the-grid Pollyanna. I will be in-the-weeds Wonder Woman - looking at you in the eyeball head-on (with my dreamy voluptuous breast plate on, too).

This does not mean I won’t go out for a think-free night from time to time with friends and talk about sitcoms and home decor and Spring fashion.

It does mean, Junk, that you are tucked in my cranial recesses pretty much all the time, and I refuse to ignore, keep quiet, or numb myself to you.

I also refuse to vilify You; You don’t deserve that kind of power. 

You, Junk, are simply a Road Block. And all of us Wonder Women and Wonder Men are strong. We’ll simply get you out of our way.

Last I checked, a smile on the face was not a requirement for super-hero strength.