I Don't Like Turkey

You know every year I stuff myself with turkey. Drown it in gravy. Carefully place a portion on my fork with just the right accompaniment of dressing and cranberry sauce. Scarf it down and go for more. I've done this every year for quite a long time. Except for this year. I've come to realize I'm forcing myself to eat it and truth be told I really don't like turkey. This is another addition of a growing list of things I consume that in truth I do not like. Turkey goes on the list with coffee and modern jazz. All things I have consumed in mass quantities for several years. I think I like the idea of those things just not the things themselves. I think this list is being developed the older I get. Because the older I get the more I'm sluffing off all of the things that are not authentically me. I am on a quest for authenticity. A me that really can't stand turkey, or bitter coffee, or self pity, or cowardice. But what's funny I'm beginning to think this authentic me is the me God intended for me to be instead of the one society or my on insecurities have made me out to be. But what I'm really trippin' off of is discovering that there are things about myself that I have just done out of habit more than actual preference. For years I've gotten up every morning and fixed coffee I really don't like; eaten turkey I really don't like. What other stuff is in me like that. Sins and behaviors that I just do that are done just because I've gotten into a groove with them. This becoming is no small task. Truthfully it sucks. But my sense is that I'm getting there. I just got to figure out what I'm going to eat for Christmas dinner now.