Vanity

Ive been waiting for this all my life–to arrive at the loss of vanity. I see that even as I am so is it coming through to my mother and dad.

I looked at my new shoes yesterday and didn’t get a gestalt and didn’t resist this, and felt funny all day wearing them but the Lord clearly showed it to me: the end of vanity. And at the pharmacy where I was waiting for my flu shot I recognized a moment that paralleled the faulty logic in a paper I wrote during my senior yeawr in college. I knew it was wrong, but I clung to it because the section leader was fooled by it and I thought because it showed I was bright there was some special merit in it. It was a paper for a class on religion and I didnt even believe yet. Same for a philosophy paper that I wrote against abortion, it had a glaring logical area that undercut my pro-life stance and I cling to it because it was so clerverly argued. even though it gave a major push to the pro-choice argument. So at last I have shed this detritus. And I know that my father does the same thing. He thinks things are meritorious just because they are the product of his “bright” mind, instead of because they have merit.

Similarly with my mother merit is in beauty, and for this any sin can be forgiven. Even my therapist said that we have a beautiful family, I beg to differ. Its just because we go around complimenting ourselves on our looks all day long and dont reflect anything other than physical beauty. I don’t look so good in those photos my mother is giving me from the past–she is going through them. In most of them I look like I am either sick or high or drunk. In one I am blowing out cigarette smoke. I didnt wash enough and it shows. Before I used to look at those photos to search out the unimaginable beauty I thought I possessedm alas, never to be caught. I finally met my need at the psych ward in California when I was pregnant with Liam. The psychiatrist called me gorgeous. I needed that.

So vanity is a deeplyl ingrained habit in my family, reflexive, and it is the crux of my disability it is so bad. I am constantly checking for my looks, my “cool.” Now its all coming apart, the British “elan.” And I can feel and I can see.

Awesome. Allelujah! Amen Prayers for the rest of my family. As I am truly the designated hitter now, this will pass through to them. Thank God.

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