A foot bath, orange cheese balls, and The Masters

Several weeks ago, a friend suggested we spend time together getting a foot detox at a local spa. I am all about detoxing, so sure.

As my feet soaked, I studied the water and a chart explaining what the different colors and floating substances indicated. And I was surprised.

It is no secret we are exposed to a lot of toxins daily. What we put on our skin and in our mouths, the products we use to clean our homes and our clothes, the abundance of indoor recycled air we breathe – all tainted by poisons, many of which we cannot identify.

I know that. You do too.

But the reality has greater impact when you see it floating in water at your feet…

Rather startling, right? 

On the drive home, we chatted about the process and results. We talked about being more mindful of the things to which we expose ourselves. Then, we moved on. I mean, how much can you talk about hidden toxins?

Little did I know there was more to the topic.

The Masters is my favorite golf tournament of the year. I watch golf often, but The Masters is special. This year, the tournament went down to the final hole. I was on my feet most of the afternoon cheering on two of my favorites as they tried to catch the leader.

I didn’t like the leader. I was unhappy when he won. My guys fought hard, but the winner met every challenge.

I was grumpy when he won. GRUMPY. I had my reasons, too. Those reasons were affirmed by several golf writers after the tournament. I read every article with that theme and said YEAH!

Thursday of that week I was thinking about golf, in general, and suddenly I sensed God, who is the Source of everything good in me, asking why I was still irritated over someone winning a golf tournament when it had zero effect on my life.

“I’m not irritated.”

“You are.”

“I wanted one of the other two to win.”

“Maybe. But, mostly, you didn’t want that guy to win. Why?”

“Dunno”

“Uh huh. How does this resonate with you? You think that mistakes in his past should be held him now? That family problems should be publicly aired? That what you have decided about his appearance and demeanor, when you have never seen him in person and certainly do not know him, makes him unworthy of being a Masters’ winner?”

And for the second time in a week, I was shocked at the toxins pouring out of me.

That isn’t me. At least I believe it isn’t.  Nice Christian woman. Reads her Bible every day. Wants to be like Jesus.

But there it was, as convicting as the foot bath water. And far uglier.

Two weeks later, I cannot point to a certain feeling or occurrence that set me on a rant that day. But that is often the case, isn’t it?

Sometimes I eat orange cheese balls, knowing full well there is nothing but toxins in them.

Sometimes I have orange cheese ball thoughts – listening to negative words about me from people, abiding negative words about others, ruminating on things over which I have no control, being aggravated by social media posts or politics. Nothing but toxins.

But, it is so easy. You know it is.

I don’t want to prepare a salad. Orange cheese balls!

I know it is too late to eat but I am watching television and I’m hungry. Orange cheese balls!

I drove for several miles behind a left-lane driver going the speed limit and a right-lane driver going slower. And three hours later, I still don’t feel like letting it go. Orange cheese balls!

I am golfing with a group of people who are gossiping about numerous people, but I don’t want them to think I am Miss Righteous. I don’t join in, but I don’t disagree. Orange cheese balls!

I have a vision for my life, my work, my time. I think about it and dream about it many times each day. But when others want to tell me it is foolish, or when others want to be critical of my choices, I let them talk. And it makes a mark.

Orange cheese balls.

Toxins pouring into my body and my mind every day. I am aware of them. But I think I make them bounce off, avoid the damage. Or I am simply not interested, in that moment, in actively choosing differently.

I tell myself a few orange cheese balls won’t hurt, forgetting that they accumulate, forgetting that sometimes I do not recognize them.

Then they come spilling out from my feet, from my mouth, in my actions.                      

Sometimes it simply makes me aware.                                                                                        Sometimes it makes a mess that isn’t resolved by emptying a tub of water.

How about you? Am I alone in this?

Each time I learn a little bit more. A step forward…and miles to go.

And I am always thankful for the folks who remain faithful along the path.

We will talk again soon…

Beth Painter is, among many other things, a writer, photographer, and motivational speaker. You can follow her on Facebook on the “Think Big focus small” page. Beth is available to speak to your group about how to make your dreams and desires come to life!