One of the things I’ve often wondered about is how one gets to earn titles. Not the typical ones like “doctor” or “judge” or whatever. I guess maybe it’s labels. Like “artist” or “photographer” or even “programmer.” One simple and obvious answer is: school. When you have a piece of paper from a university saying you’re an art major, I guess you are officially an artist.
But what if you never practice it?
What if I study computer science but don’t write one line of code; am I still a programmer?
Ok, so maybe school, alone, is not the decider. Let’s choose the second most commonly accepted method: making money with it. So if I am making money as a photographer, then am I officially a photographer? Which, of course, brings me to my next question:
How much money?
How much money do I need to make before I qualify as a photographer? Do I have to make a living doing it? What if the amount of money I need to make a living is way higher than you? Is there a particular monetary value that makes the label earned? Or is it about having a certain number of clients? People who pay me to do shoots. If I have more than 20 clients, am I legit?
What about external validation. What if I have an award? What if I had a gallery show? What if there was an article in a major newspaper that mentioned me as an artist? If I talked at a conference. Where’s the special line where I go from being an amateur to earning the label?
I see a lot of signs on Pinterest (or elsewhere) that say “just because you have a camera doesn’t make you a photographer.” Ok, I’ll bite: what does?
Who gets to decide if I am a photographer?
Artist, writer, programmer, trader. It doesn’t matter what the title is, what I want to know is who decides if I earned it? If I self-publish a book, does that count? Am I still a writer?
I’ve learned over time that people’s lines in the sand vary drastically. Some people will not call you a writer unless a major publishing house has put out one of your books while others call you a writer if you’ve written 100 words for the book sitting on your computer.
Who’s right?
That’s the thing. I think no one is more right than anyone else. No one besides me has the right to make declarations on what my qualifications are for a title. If I decide I am a photographer, no one else gets to take that away from me.
Because, you know what: there’s always someone more accomplished than you. If you claim to be a photographer, I can ask you if you’ve published work that looks like Ansel Adams and say that unless you’ve sold thousands of copies of a book published by a notable company, you don’t qualify to call yourself a photographer. Can you dare say I am wrong? As long as the other person gets to make the decision on what “qualifications” you need to earn, they can always move the bar.
You might be setting the bar too high yourself. For example, back when I wrote novels, I used to think that unless Random House published one of my books, it didn’t count. That’s a ridiculous bar. But still, at least it’s my bar. No one else is telling me what I need to do, who I need to be, to call myself whatever title I want.
I think that’s why those signs irritate me so much. It makes it sound like the other person gets to decide what I am. “Who made you the judge” is what I often say out loud when I see them. To me, they are all about making the other person feel small. If I call myself a photographer, does that make you less of one? Only small people think that way. There’s enough room in the world for each of us to call ourselves whatever we want.
So, here’s what I think: if you want to call yourself a photographer. Go for it! Artist. Go for it. Musician. Go for it. No one gets to tell you that you are not.
You are whatever you say you are.
Each time I read one of those funny, witty blogs, I think to myself “I will never be funny or witty like that.”
I will never write stuff that makes people’s drinks come out of their noses. I will never use sarcasm cleverly and have everyone marvel at my ability to make self-deprecation funny. I will never be able to be cutesy, either. I am not clever (at least not with words.) I am not ironic.
There are many times where I’ve beaten myself up for not being like that. When I wished I could just be funnier so I could be better liked. But here’s what I learned: trying to be something you’re not is like dyeing your hair. You can fake it for a while, but your roots always grow out.
And it’s a lot of work to keep dyeing them, especially if you want them to never show.
Acting differently than what’s authentic to you is possible. I can be more outgoing, funnier, sillier, cuter, more sophisticated and more sarcastic when I want to be. If the desire is strong enough, I can fake it.
But only for a while.
It’s like walking in those new high, high heels you bought. It’s possible but deeply uncomfortable. And when you get home, the first thing you do is take them off, push them aside, and put on some super-comfy socks. (Or, in my case, go barefoot.)
One of the reasons I moved to the United States 18 years ago was to stop having to be something different than I actually am. There’s so much work, shame, and frustration involved with having to be someone else and having to hide who you are.
It’s all about not feeling enough.
While there will always be situations where I have to act slightly different than what might be fully authentic, there’s no reason I need to do this regularly.
I’ve noticed that the biggest reason I feel the need to be something different is to gain the affection and acceptance of others. Whether it be family, friends, acquaintances, or workmates. Or even blog readers and students I’ve never met. If only I were funnier more people would comment. If only I were more fun, I might have more friends. If only I were….
You get my point.
The problem is that this kind of thinking never works out for me. Even if I can be that thing for a while and gather those kinds of friends, I quickly grow to resent them for not liking me just the way I am. I get tired of acting like someone else constantly and either get really mad or start to pull back. Neither of which is a great step forward in a friendship.
Which leaves me with the only (and scariest) option of being me. I’ve often thought that I am too weird to have friends. I’ve never met anyone exactly like me. I can go on and on. But what I’ve learned is that the only relationships that last are the ones built on me being myself. Those heels I coveted often give me blisters and are thrown aside permanently within weeks. The comfy socks…I keep forever.
If nothing else, it’s just so much easier to be me. So much less work. And instead of focusing on what I am not, I can make a bigger effort to see all that I do naturally have to offer. Kindness, thoughtfulness, strength, wisdom, consistency and reflection. I am not saying these are more valuable than the other characteristics. They are just ones that come naturally to me and maybe if I spent some time focusing more on these and less on beating myself up, I might make friends who prefer me just as I am.
And that would be something.
As I was looking for classes on Pinterest today (I do this often), I came across this site. I don’t know anything about it and have only read a few posts. There are many with those 6ways to do this or 18 reasons why.. kinds of posts I mentioned last week. Many good ones. But one post had me thinking.
It’s a post full of thought-provoking questions that are illustrated. Illustrations aside, some of the questions jumped out at me and I wanted to share my thoughts:
1. If you had the opportunity to get a message across to a large group of people, what would your message be?
I like this question. I can think of so many answers. But, for me, it always comes back to two things: being you and being kind. I feel like if we were all willing to be a bit more vulnerable and show our true selves and we were all willing to be kinder to each other (which would help with the vulnerability, too), the world would be a considerably better and more meaningful place.
2. Are you holding onto something that you need to let go of?
This is a big question for me. Being that my word for this year was Free. I have a lot I hold on to. Mostly the bad stuff and things that make me think less of myself. It’s time to let go. In fact, I think it’s time to let go of all of it. No need to carry the stuff around.
3. Have you done anything lately worth remembering?
I like this one. I am not sure of the answer. But I want to keep this at the forefront of my mind. I want to make sure to use those minutes well, remember?
4. Do you celebrate the things you do have?
I work hard to do this one. I find myself so much more aware and thankful ever since I did the Weekly Gratitude Project in 2010. It’s truly changed my life.
5. When it’s all said and done, will you have said more than you’ve done?
This is another good one for me. I am a doer. I want to do. I want to leave the world a better place than I found it. I want to live life fully.
6. When was the last time you tried something new?
I try to do this regularly. Drawing was new for me this year. As I think of 2012, I want to make sure there’s at least one new thing on my list.
7. Which activities make you lose track of time?
While some people might say this should be important for choosing a career, I think this is valuable for happiness. Knowing what you love to do. Knowing what makes you happy. For me this is: reading, doing art, hugging my family, and sometimes programming.
8. If you could do it all over again, would you change anything?
I work hard to live my life with no regrets. I think a lot before I make decisions. A lot. But once the decision comes and goes, I tend to not look back. I also know that we can never tell how the paths we didn’t walk end and how many other aspects of our life they would change. You can’t alter one thing without having side effects. So I tend to prefer the known over the unknown.
Those are some of the questions that spoke to me. I like many of the others, too. Good list to come back to at different times in my life. How about you? Are there any questions that seem exceptionally thought-provoking for you? I’d love to know them even if they are not on this list.
Ok, I know I’ve been promising that I would share my notebooks with you for a few weeks, so here it is finally.
Last year, I read this post by Karen which prompted me to get my own journal. (she’s since written more about it and her post is excellent.) I decided to use a squared Moleskine because I love squared paper.
I had some plans for the notebook but my process and what I put in it has evolved and progressed throughout the year. So it’s a constantly-evolving process.
After using my first one for a few weeks, I decided the black was too depressing so I started painting them. I never do a good job but I still love them. So here’s the outside of my second book:
It gets a lot of use and goes everywhere with me, so it gets banged up quite a bit.
The first page has the calendar:
The second page has my personal statement from the Soul Restoration 2 class and then my first todo list page:
I make the todo list pages every Sunday, for the week ahead and then add, cross off, change them throughout the week.
My todo list pages have lists: must-do (for things that have to get done that week), nice-to-do (things I’d like to get done but it’s ok if they don’t), write (ideas for blog posts I might want to write), create (layouts, projects coming up due), blog (art, layouts, books, etc that I’ve already completed that are waiting for me to put up on the blog.)
I then put a piece of paper for each week that has my daily tasks on it. Everyday, I cross them out. As of now, the daily tasks I do are: exercise, sketching, journaling, reading to David, art journaling, collage book (new project for 2012), and blogging thoughts at night. At some point, I had more and I might have different ones in a few weeks. I create these on the computer and print them out a few weeks’ worth at a time. I then tape one for each week.
The page in the photo above is colored with pencils but i don’t do that anymore. It was an experiment and I didn’t like it.
I then use the same book to journal in the mornings.
Most days, I only write one page. Sometimes it’s more but one page is my minimum. This is literally the next page in the notebook. I also sketch in the same book right after this page:
when I first switched to watercolors, I started to glue down my paper:
but now I do it on a paper and then slip it in a 4×6 adhesive slip just like Karen mentions in her post. I then glue my art journal page right next to it.
This means my art journal pages are the same size as the Moleskine 5.125×8.25 but I am ok with that (at least for now.)
I put everything in this one little book. Here’s a double-spread of todo lists:
the mind maps I made in Karen’s class:
the visual board I made there, too:
the love list, or any other homework I had in her class. In all the classes I had this year that involved journaling or writing thoughts down:
Here’s my current journal:
It’s much much bulkier than that now and I am only 3 weeks in. I took this photo when I was almost done with number two:
The blue is the first one, then red. Yellow is the one I am on now and green will be my last one for 2011 (assuming the yellow one doesn’t take me to the end of the year.)
I’ve come to love and rely on my notebook. I carry it with me everywhere. I doodle, sketch, write, and keep my lists in it. My kids love looking through it and never read my journaling. I keep the journaling pages facing each other and never put art or todo lists on the facing pages. And I don’t mind that they are all together.
There you go. Now you know how all about my notebook. This is definitely my happiest way to get and stay organized. I love and adore my books and swear by the process. Let me know if you have any questions and I am absolutely happy to answer.
By the way, I will do my best to catch up on all the comments in the next two days. Thank you for your patience with me.
2011 has been a good year for me in forward-progress. I’ve spent a lot of time doing some of the things I wanted to do. I’ve focused on sketching, art journaling, exercise, and journaling. More time with my family. More productivity at work. I feel like I’ve moved forward in all those areas. I have visible, tangible proof for most of the changes.
But I still find myself struggling.
I have specific wishes in all these areas that evolve, grow, change as I work on them. For example, this past week, I decided I wanted to be able to draw my own characters in a simple, illustrative style. Like Abigail Halpin whose style just speaks to me. The thing is, I have no desire to be a children’s illustrator and I lack the years of practice (and I am guessing a lot of formal education) she has. As I’ve learned in the last two days, it doesn’t come naturally to me and I have absolutely no idea where to begin learning.
I want to work on my lettering. Even though I’ve signed up for Lori’s amazing class, guess what? It won’t work unless I practice. A lot. So what’s lacking is not my ability to write beautifully but my willingness to put the time in to practice again and again until I can do it.
I want to build firmer muscles. Not bulky ones but I’d rather exchange my flabby tummy for a firmer, stronger one. This means weights, pilates, sit-ups…Something to work on those muscles. Same goes for the rest of my body. I want to eat healthier. This means committing to learning more about food, finding things that work with my lifestyle.
I want to focus more on self-growth. This means journaling more intentionally. Finding classes, books, resources to help me more.
I’m learning something really obvious: the work is never finished. There’s always more ways in which to grow. There’s always more to learn. And everything requires time. Everything.
That’s the most difficult decision to make: where do I dedicate my precious time? What do i want to do with it? Am I doing what I want to do or what I think I should do? What I liked back then but don’t like anymore (but won’t stop?) Am I spending my time in the way that makes me happiest (most fulfilled)?
My attempts at learning to do “illustrative” sketching are abysmal enough that I wanted to walk away immediately. Just pick something else to do. Anything else. But I told myself that I will give it a month. Even if it’s a month of terrible sketches, I want to see if I can find a way to make it work. After a month of legitimate effort, if I still hate what I produce, I can walk away. I am willing to dedicate 15-30 precious minutes to this every day for a month. In exchange for possibly opening a joyful door for myself. Or maybe just proving to myself that I can.
As for the other things on my list, they will get their due, too.
But as I look forward to 2012 and plan my projects, the biggest thing on my mind is Time. Answering the most difficult question of how I want to spend my minutes.
They are so rare and so fleeting.
Have you made plans for 2012?
This past weekend Jake went down to San Diego for a meeting. He sits on the board of a nonprofit down there and they had all-day meetings on Saturday. He drove down on Friday and spent the night at a good friend’s house. On Saturday morning, he called me on the way to the meetings and told me that our car had been broken into and two, relatively inexpensive, pieces of equipment were stolen. But of course the window was smashed and needed to be replaced.
My first instinct was to freak out.
My second instinct was to take control and tell him exactly what he needed to do.
My third instinct was to yell at him for leaving the car and going to the meeting anyway.
Thankfully, I did none of the above. I looked over at my kids as a reminder to myself that they were safe and sound. I told my husband, who also was obviously safe and sound, that I loved him and that I was sorry he had to go through this. And then I let him go.
I will admit that a little while later, I felt my anxiety increase. I called him back and asked him if they wouldn’t steal the car now that it had no window. I also told him I thought it was bad that he left to go to the meeting anyway. He was in the car with the woman who started the nonprofit and I could tell he was uncomfortable. I stopped myself and told him he was lucky his friend (with whom he’d stayed the night before) was helping him and to just keep me posted.
I then texted him once and then texted again apologizing and telling him that I was just worried and sad for him. I told him I loved him and hoped that it would work out.
After that, I opened my notebook and journaled for a whole page. I reminded myself to have faith in my husband and that things would get fixed even if I wasn’t the one to fix them. That’s the thing with type-a fixer people like me. We think our way is the only way things will get done.
And it’s not true.
Things can get done many ways. Things often do work out in the end. And if people like me don’t step in and take charge, other people step up and get it done. I reminded myself that I trusted and loved my husband and I truly had faith in him. And I really did feel really sad that he had to go through this alone when he was away. I wrote and wrote until I felt the rage and the worry leave my body.
I decided I was far away and couldn’t fix it personally. So, instead, I would just let it go and have faith things would work out.
And, of course, they did.
My husband’s friend helped him and he had a brand new window before he got back from his meetings. Then, his other friend helped him vacuum out the car so all the glass was out and the car was dry. So before Jake had to drive back North, the car was almost as good as new with relatively minimal loss and aggravation.
I realized that this was the perfect example of how everything that happens to you in life gives you an opportunity to learn and grow. I am grateful that it happened while I wasn’t there so I was forced to take a step back and work on myself and how I handle these situations. I am hoping that I can remember this next time something happens. Not that I hope anything happens but, you know, life always has ups and downs.
If nothing else, it was an exercise in learning to grow.
After two weeks of battling allergies on and off, I woke up this morning feeling considerably sicker. So much so that I decided to take the day off. All my bones and most of my muscles were hurting. I was shivering and other details I won’t delight you with.
I think this was my body’s way of telling me that it needed time off.
So besides the run in the morning, I did nothing all day. I lay on the couch, I watched TV, napped, did a tiny bit of art, and read a book. I took care of the boys but I will admit I did a minimal job there, too. Thankfully, I had already taken tomorrow off (because both boys will be home) so I have a few more days to rest.
But I am not a fan of being sick. I’ve been lucky enough not to be sick almost all of 2011. I managed to work out every day and I have no intention of breaking my record this late into the year. So I won’t tolerate getting sick at this point.
Just sayin’.
Other than being sick and grumpy and moody (which is all I’ve written about this week), I’ve also been thinking about next year. About my plans and which projects I want to continue and which ones I want to stop and what new things I might want to do. I’ve also been thinking about my kids and what projects I want to do with them. My plan for this longer weekend is to pamper myself silly by spending a lot of couch-time and also to think more about 2012.
I am behind in comment responding and emails again. Perpetually, it seems. Sorry to not be more uplifting this week. I promise to make up for it next week.
Oh and, you still have a few hours on the giveaway here, and the one at write.click.scrapbook. And there’s one at paperclipping, too.
I’ve been feeling off for quite a few days now. Nothing huge, just a quiet discontent. But still frustrating and I do wish it would go away already. I have been looking for the source of the issue but have come up empty. Or at least I don’t seem to have this one thing to point at.
For a while it was my uprooted schedule, then it was hormones, and then it was the allergies. Alas, the allergies are still with me but everything else has passed and the feeling continues. I do know that some of it was coming from having to possibly go to jury duty tomorrow and all the unknowns that comes with. (It turns out I don’t have to go.) Some of the frustration was because I went out on a limb and sent some emails yesterday and they weren’t returned and that brought back a lot of my personal issues. Although, almost all of them wrote back today. I’ve been tired and somewhat craving chocolate. Neither of those help.
The fact is, there was no one thing wrong. Just a bunch of little things that gnawed at me and put me in a somewhat crappy mood.
Around midday, I got really mad at myself. I decided I had done enough moping and it was time to get up. I took a little walk, did a little art, and then got my work done.
The thing is, life doesn’t wait for my moodiness to pass. It doesn’t wait for anything. Life is happening around me constantly. Minutes are passing, days are ending. And it’s stupid of me to waste any of this very precious time by focusing on the little, inconsequential things. I may not have control over whether people write back to me or if I have to report to jury duty.
But I do have control over my mood.
I can choose not to pout and whine. My plan from now on is to try to change things up each time I feel this way. Maybe I take a walk. Or I call a friend. Or listen to music really loudly. Take another shower. Read a book. Nap. Set the alarm and work super-fast for 30 minutes.
Whatever it is, I just don’t want to waste precious minutes being moody. Life’s too short for that. It really, truly is. Maybe this is related to yesterday’s post about appreciating life. But, to me, it’s one thing to not take a pause to notice something. But it’s considerably worse to just choose to waste the moments with moodiness.
Here’s the thing about wasted moments: you never get them back.
Now that my schedule is sort of back to normal (even if temporarily) I’ve been trying to catch up on all the reading, blogs, links, etc. that have accumulated. I saw this article on 7 Ways to Change Your Life in 7 Days. I will admit that I usually do not like articles like these. I am not entirely sure why. I do read them and often they are valuable or interesting but they just feel like snippets to me. This is all good stuff but I won’t be able to do it in 7 days. Each of these things is hard and requires a change in attitude and frame of mind. I guess what I mind is how easy the article makes it seem. So then, when I can’t actually change my life in 7 days, I feel like a failure.
Anyway. Not even the point of my post.
The part that resonated the most with me was this quote:
If while washing dishes, we think only of the cup of tea that awaits us, thus hurrying to get the dishes out of the way as if they were a nuisance, then we are not “washing the dishes to wash the dishes.” What’s more, we are not alive during the time we are washing the dishes. In fact, we are completely incapable of realizing the miracle of life while standing at the sink. If we can’t wash the dishes, the chances are we won’t be able to drink our tea either. While drinking the cup of tea, we will only be thinking of other things, barely aware of the cup in our hands. Thus we are sucked away into the future and we are incapable of actually living one minute of life.
I think of this often. Since I am a schedule based person and I multi-task often, I find myself disengaged more frequently than I’d like. I also find that just by changing my perspective I can actually enjoy life more.
For example, we live relatively close to a train station. On the way to David’s school each morning, I cross the tracks. Sometimes, I have to stop because a train is coming. Ordinarily, this would annoy me. Sitting there, waiting for the train to pass is taking precious minutes away from my life. Minutes I won’t get back.
But here’s the thing: Nathaniel loves the train. As we get close to the tracks, he always watches for the warning lights and if they are on he will exclaim with joy. “Choo choo” he will yell. And just in case we weren’t clear he will name each of us and do it again. “Mommy, Choo choo. Didi choo choo!” he’ll say. His excitement is intoxicating.
So now when I get close to the tracks, I find myself hoping for the train to come. I know it will bring joy to my boy and it’s infectious. The funny thing is, even when Nathaniel is not in the car, seeing the train pass will make me think of his happy cheering and I will smile. He has completely transformed this particular experience for me.
While doing the dishes might be an inapplicable example for me, I have been thinking more and more about paying attention, being present, changing perspective. Enjoying life as it happens, regardless of whether I have control or not. (Because more often than not, I don’t.)
Especially when it comes to my family. Letting myself bask in their small joys. Sharing tiny and huge moments of laughter. Taking the time to listen. To kiss a boo-boo. To give a hug. To not feel like my time is too precious for the ones I love. For the ones who bring me the most joy in life.
I’ve been thinking about all this. Every moment of every day is really what life is about. Enjoying this very moment as it happens is what life is all about. Enjoying the train. Enjoying the dishes. Enjoying the small moments.
Because there are a lot more of those than the big ones.
If you’ve been reading here for a while, you’ll know that I am very organized and scheduled. I like my life like that. I get comfort and joy from the repetition and task completion. At home and at work, I like getting things done. Even small things like returning an email gives me joy.
And the opposite gives me great discomfort.
When I know I have something due, I cannot sit still. Ask anyone who’s ever worked with me; I’m the first person to deliver my assignments. I was the kid who came home and did her homework right away (assuming I hadn’t already finished it at school.) It’s one of the main reasons I wake up early to exercise and sketch. It gives me the time to get my things done. When I get a DT assignment, I pretty much do it right away. Even if it’s due two months from now. Sometimes, I get heads up that a request is coming down the road but I don’t know the details yet and it drives me insane to know I will have something due but I don’t know enough to sit and work on it immediately.
I don’t do well with a todo list that’s piling up. I don’t do well with deadlines looming. With people waiting for a reply.
Alas, that’s how life’s been for the last ten days or so. My parents are here and I am trying to balance time spent with them with time spent getting work and chores done. And, bless them, they do give me a lot of alone time but I find myself mentally and physically tired so I don’t accomplish much when they are not here. So now, I have emails and comments that have been unanswered for days (if you’re one of the people who’s waiting for a response, I am deeply sorry and I swear I will get to it soon.) I have layouts that are scheduled for soon. Not to mention my own personal projects that are not being tended to.
And all this is making me slowly unravel.
This morning, during my journal time, I told myself that this was a lesson in learning to sit with discomfort. There are times in one’s life where we have to be in situations that are not pleasant but we can’t do anything about it. We can’t solve it, we can’t fix it, we can’t even make it go away. We just have to learn to be present with it. And I believe it’s an important skill to have. It will help me become a more patient friend and partner and mother. Learning to just sit with it instead of controlling it (which is definitely my default behavior.) I told myself that it’s an exercise for me to see that if things wait and pile for a week or two, life doesn’t end. I can still catch up. People will forgive and understand. The most important things will all get done when they need to and life will be ok. Sometimes we have to trust that things will work out.
So, I am learning to sit with discomfort. Guilt, shame, frustration. I am facing them and practicing. Paying attention to the feelings and being present with them. To what it looks like for me. So that I can learn. So that I can recognize it when it’s here again. So that I can grow and become more patient. With myself (and others.)
It’s not pleasant.
But I’m working on it.
One of the things I noticed during the Soul Restoration I class and the several other soul-work classes is that many of my deep “issues” and worries are coming from events that occurred when I was younger than 12 years old. None of these events are “devastating” but, alas, they have shaped a lot of the things I’ve come to believe about myself.
A lot of the negative things.
The logical side of me finds this ridiculous. I’m now 37 years old, there’s absolutely no good reason I should cling to the moments I had over 25 years ago. I’ve seen been through several big and small milestones in my life. I’ve grown. I’ve changed. I look, think, and feel differently now. I make different kinds of friends. I’ve had many major and minor milestones (both good and bad). So much has happened in the last 25 years that I am definitely not little girl anymore.
And yet. Inside I feel the same.
I can still remember the words that broke my heart and made me feel small. I still feel small in the exact same ways I did back then. I still lack faith in myself for the same areas in which I was criticized as a 10-year-old. Even though some of these facts about me have perceptibly changed and my mind can acknowledge that, the girl in my heart and soul doesn’t blink an eye. She’s still trapped in that twelve-year-old’s nightmare. Her lack of self esteem. Her lack of strength.
I find this incredibly frustrating. It feels like once I can acknowledge and pinpoint the issue, I should be able to get rid of it. I should be able to tell myself that those times have passed. I have new friends in my life and people who care about me deeply and people who depend on me, etc. etc. I am not that girl anymore.
And, yet. Somewhere inside of me, she still lives.
She still hurts, cowers and feels alone.
And I truly don’t know what to do about it. I want to kick her, lecture her, be kind to her, beg her. I go through all the phases at different times. I try to go through logic. And most of the time my 37-year-old self is in charge and can live a happy and fulfilled life. But, in those weak, rough moments, the little girl peeks out.
I’ve been thinking about how to help her. I’m going to have to teach that little girl about how life is right now. Show her affection and kindness and compassion so she can relearn from scratch. So she can create a new identity and self-image. One that’s not tied to memories from the early eighties. I’m not entirely sure how to do this but I do think some serious relearning is what she needs.
Maybe I start by writing down all she feels and tackle them one by one. Maybe if I am super patient with her, she will give me a chance.
I met with an acquaintance today partly because this person intimidates me and I was trying to break that barrier by getting to know her better. My hope was that we would find ways to bond and relate to each other and this connection would allow me to see her (and in return my response to her) in a different light.
Well, it didn’t work.
I left feeling empty. On the “good” side I’d found enough flaws in her to not feel intimidated. I realized several imperfections in her that maybe had not been so obvious to me previously. And I realized a bunch of other things that I find annoying. So maybe the intimidation is replaced by a different feeling now but it’s still not a good one. Not the one I was hoping for. The best way I can describe it was that it felt empty.
I thought about it for a long time afterwards and couldn’t put my finger on exactly what happened. Then, I realized that most of our talk was small talk. What I call “surface” conversations. Where you spend a bunch of time talking about nothing important. Agreeing, being politically correct, smiling but, in the end, saying nothing substantive.
This kind of interaction is not just non-ideal for me; it’s abhorrent. I cannot stand small talk. It’s a good thing I met my husband in college or I would not be able to date because of all the small talk it involves. This is the same reason I hate going to many social activities or reading blogs that talk about “nothing.” My husband’s great at small talk and I really admire his ability to do it, so I am not bashing small talk per se. Just saying I can’t do it. The whole time I am thinking of where else I’d rather be. Like reading a good book.
For me, spending time with a person is all about connecting. I guess it’s the same as my art. I need meaning. If it feels meaningless, I am not interested. I need to be engaged emotionally (ideally intellectually as well). I need to care. For me to care, there has to be meaning in the conversation.
I was reading Stephanie’s blog earlier and she does this new monthly challenge where you “blog your heart.” And while I love the idea of talking about the areas where you’re struggling or falling short, I think that’s not necessarily enough for me. That’s sort of what I realized today during my time with this woman. It became easy for me to see where she was falling short. I could suddenly see her shortcomings, worries around looking a certain way, etc. I even felt sorry for her for a minute when I realized it was so important to her to appear a certain way.
I wish we would do less judging for both good and bad. It feels nice to hear the “hard stuff” because it breaks down the walls of perfection we seem to create on behalf of other people. But while some people do maybe only share the good, the fact is we’re the ones looking for all the good. I know there are people in my life who struggle but also do well and I tend to focus on how well they do in areas where I struggle and I don’t even spend a moment thinking about their struggles. I just accentuate their good and measure it up against my bad. That’s *my* fault. Not theirs. So I like to hold myself responsible.
It’s human nature to want to hide your imperfections. It’s human nature to want to “look good.” But meaningful doesn’t have to be good or bad. It just has to be genuine. I feel just as much a connection when someone shares genuine joy with me. It’s the fake stuff I detest. And when we’re making a list of “rough stuff” I’ll admit the whole thing feels a bit fake to me. When you read someone else’s blog, do you really ever think they’re perfect? Have you ever met anyone who’s perfect? If you’re older than ten, you should already know no one (and I mean NO one) is perfect. It’s just not possible. Some people might be better than you are at certain things. But they have their own list of shortcomings, challenges, and grief. This is true across the board, bar NONE. So when you’re reading a blog and you feel “oh they are perfect” just remind yourself that they aren’t. They are just putting their best foot forward.
What I really wish is that even a five-minute cocktail conversation could be meaningful. I wish I could just say “Look I am not going to judge, I am not going to be jealous, I am here to connect. So be real. Tell me whatever you want to talk about. Don’t try to look a certain way for me. Be you. Whomever you are.” And then we could talk. Without fear, masks, fakeness.
Alas, I don’t know if it’s possible.
And I do know that often I do judge. Look how much I looked for the “wrong” in that woman this morning. Maybe because she was trying so hard to look good that I had to knock her down. To feel vindicated. But I don’t want to do that. I want her to feel supported. Know that I understand. That it’s hard. Life is hard. I get it. You have enough on your plate. You don’t have to worry about me. I am here without judgement. Open.
Can I be that, I wonder? And if so, how can I let the other person know? Can people connect meaningfully without years of friendship behind them?
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projects for twenty twenty-four
projects for twenty twenty-three
projects for twenty twenty-two
projects for twenty twenty-one
projects for twenty nineteen
projects for twenty eighteen
projects from twenty seventeen
monthly projects from previous years
some of my previous projects
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