The Curious Incident of the Cherub Fluff
My alarm went off this morning at 5:30. As I hauled my sad little pity-consumed body out of the bed at 5:45, I was focused on one thing: the cherub fluff.
A strange thing happened when Vaden and I got married 12 years ago: it’s like we created this whole other way of communicating that doesn’t involve the use of common terms. In fact, it more involves the continual referral to random moments that we have shared and found funny (only no one else would probably think so!), and one of those is the cherub fluff.
The cherub fluff concept came from me trying to describe to him why I wanted to really get aggressive with working out. The only way I could define it was by alluding to the fact that I kind of felt like the fluffy little cartoon-like, Michaelangelo-esque cherubs that were cute but slightly plump around the middle. So now, in true Vaden-fashion, whenever I reach for the cupcake or want to sleep in, he reminds me of my referral to my cherub fluff, and lets me know that if I am choosing to embrace it, I need to shut up about it, and if I am choosing to do something about it, I need to haul my ass out of bed…
Which leads me to why I am thinking about this. This morning, I took my multi-vitamin and my greens, and then I experienced the luxury of deciding what I was going to eat for breakfast. As I left for my office, I filled a mug full of coffee that I forgot is a luxury rather than a desperate morning ritual, and I jumped in my car that was given to me by some incredible friends and filled with diesel that I miraculously was able to pay for. As I walked down the stairs into our office, the truth hit me: my cherub fluff is a direct result of being rich and being able to indulge. For me, health is an option that I sometimes make fun of, and food is a luxury I get when I want it.
There is a crazy paradox that will always exist on the earth: the polarity of the rich and the poor. We are in a global crisis right now and all over the world, the crunch is being felt. For some, it is the huge hike in fuel prices that is causing them to have to re-think their family budget; for others, it means burying their four year old who just died of starvation. For all, it means we are inexplicably linked across the miles and barriers and held together in a precarious position as we wrestle through what it means to be a global community. I don’t have all the answers. I don’t even know for certain where the best place is to start, but I know it has to start somewhere. I can’t sleep at night without the peace of knowing that at least I am doing something to contribute to the solution, rather than the problem.
We have decided that one of our solutions will be tightening things up and giving towards the orphans in the world. Vaden and I have chosen to support a children’s home, independent of anything else we do with Absolute. My actions have to be louder than my empty words. The food crisis is leaving many more orphans in the world, and we have to do something to intervene and leverage what we have.
Tomorrow, my alarm will go off at the same time, and I will have the same inner turmoil about not wanting to get up…and then…I will whisper a prayer of thanks that I have another day to be healthy and work to make a difference. Truly, I am rich.
By the way, as I am typing this, the great tribute to our pop culture is on the tv in the background: “What Not To Wear”. And as I see them handing the poor fashion victim a visa with $10,000 so that they can right the horrific injustice of poor taste once again, I am thinking, “I wonder how I would explain this tv show to my friends that live in the garbage dump in Dominican?”. Never mind-it would be too embarrassing to even try to explain it.