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Mindful Living:
The Icicles of Doom
In the corner of my roof is a huge icicle. Six feet long and
glittering in the morning sun, it looks like a samurai sword
about to fall on me and sever my head in one quick chop.
Along the side of the house are more icicles, dripping into a
narrow ice skating rink below, but few so dangerous. I like to
reach up and touch the slick surface, wiggling the end like a
loose tooth about to fall out. None of them have fallen on me
yet, they just drip and drip until gone.
My friend Angie tells me that icicles are really a sign of
bad insulation. Heat rises to the attic ceiling and melts the
underlayer of snow on the roof, which drips down into icicles.
Not to mention, she says, that people never clean their gutters,
so the whole thing is just a handywoman’s nightmare. Instead
of the blood stained snow of my mind’s eye, Angie crosses her
arms, looks up at the roofline, and mentally compares brands of
foam insulation.
Like so many things icicles are not what they appear.
Beautiful on the outside, dangerous even. But deep down, the
result of mediocre building skills on the part of some homeowner
a hundred years ago. It’s easy to notice the attractive and
deny the termites munching through the foundation below.
It’s the same with people of course. Good looking, slim
people are assumed to be smarter and more successful than
average looking, larger people. Although I am neither stunning
or slim, it hasn’t held me back any because I’m convinced
that confidence and style sell more widgets than good cheekbones
do. Good looks can’t compete with a rational mind when it
comes to buying a new clothes dryer, or with a sexy attitude
twenty years into a marriage.
This is the demeanor of my mature self however. In my youth I
was easily swayed by good looks, particularly so in my first
love, whose chestnut hair hung in a shiny curtain down his back.
Yes, he was a looker, and had that “musician aura” which
made us girls catch our breath. Fortunately, I also loved him
for his inner self which was genuine and gentle. But when things
got tough, it was clear that good looks couldn’t resolve an
argument or keep a relationship from drowning.
It was a good thing for my youthful ego to be linked with a
man that handsome, even if it was a non-issue to him. These days
although I still tap icicles and catch the drops on my tongue, I’m
more likely to check the insulation before making any long term
commitments.
Copyright February, 1999
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