Saturday, February 29, 2020

The Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Thirty-seven

The Lighter Side of Weight Loss
By Sandra Warholic Seeley

Wanted: Sandy's Mojo
Chapter Thirty-seven

Local, state and federal (I’ve crossed a few lines) authorities have issued an APB for my mojo. She was last seen wearing an ear to ear smile and bell bottoms. No, I did not leave her behind at Woodstock, bury her beneath the moguls on the Avalanche Trail at Seven Springs Ski Resort or sink her (along with one $85 Scuba Pro Jet Fin) on my first open water dive as part of my NASDS (National Association of Scuba Diving Schools) certification test. For the record, I passed this very difficult test. Nor did she disappear as I was posting at a trot, cantering or jumping over Rocky Mountain high hurdles (one foot high). Actually, she could have gone missing in 3 out of the 4 scenarios listed above. I’ll let you decide which one was not true for me.

So where is Ms. Mojo? Apparently she has been lying dormant within me for quite a few years. Years that have added weight, arthritis, glasses, diminished finances, loss of beloved family members, etc. In other words, life happened. It’s hard enough to tug on a wetsuit on a normal size body (think neck to ankle girdle/spanx) let alone trying to stuff the current model of you into foamed neoprene on a sweltering summer day. It may take two of your diving buddies to dress you, like stuffing a queen size pillow into a twin size pillow case. You could get the bends just from all the hyperventilating involved, but still earn some activity points!

However, I am determined to release my mojo from her inner confinement. I want to regain my 21 year old self’s enthusiasm for life. In this season of Lent, I’ve promised to feed my soul more than my stomach. I’m going to take John Greenleaf Whittier’s advice to buy hyacinths to nourish my soul. I’m going to accept that I have physical limitations for some of my previous activities, but be open to new possibilities. I’m going to sew my mojo back on like Peter Pan’s shadow. As Wendy told Peter, “After all, one can’t leave his shadow (mojo) lying about and not miss it sooner or later, don’t you agree?” So let’s all rediscover our mojos. I’ll sprinkle us with pixie dust as we leap into the air (especially on this 29th day of February) and we’ll fly toward our own personal Neverlands. Just take “the second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning.” You can’t miss it.

Until next week, BOLO for any missing mojos, return to their owners and be happier.

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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