It kinda sounds like a cuss word. “Those FUDOGers!”
It feels like hell.
And it looks the poison arrows in the quiver of Beelzebub. All multi-pronged and dripping with noxious fluid that burns.
Those FUDOG feelings are, however, fully self-inflicted. And that is what makes them so insidious.
We have found the enemy. Oh boy have we found the enemy. It is us.
No. It’s me. It’s me that feels fear and doubt. It’s me that takes on an obligation and guilt. It is me that is uncertain.
I don’t want to be. I want to be free, confident, convinced, loving, and pure.
That doesn’t make as good of an acronym. But I guess free doesn’t need a mnemonic device. We remember that we want to be free.
I have been meaning to write this piece about FUDOG for a while. But I was uncertain, afraid that I didn’t have it together enough to explain the research that led me to this discovery of how these work together. I doubted I had the right to portray this as my own idea; maybe I was obliged to credit a source that I’m not sure of.
FUD is a well-known tactic in politics. And I read about FOG in an article about unhealthy relationships.
But I think I put it together. At least I did for myself
I started to think of how I make my choices. When I recovered from surgery, I finally got enough sleep to think and not react.
Am I making this choices, taking this action because of FUDOG? Isn’t that the opposite of how I want to live my life?
I want to spend my time doing things that I love, with people I love. Who is using FUDOG tactics on me?
Maybe I don’t have to cooperate. Maybe I am not obligated to cooperate.
I may feel guilty. True, I AM guilty. All have sinned, and I raise my hand. Here! Sinner reporting.
So. I want to walk in love and freedom, and leave behind the part where I am imperfect. Grace is necessary. For me, From me, To me.
And for everybody else. If I am not twisted up and poisoned with fudog, then maybe I will have some grace left over to give to other people too.
Even if I am not sure what I’m doing. Even if I’m not as good as I’d like to be.
Shake it off. Cut it off.
NO FUDOG ZONE
Have a blessed Wednesday, readers. That’s what I’ve got.