Monday, April 14, 2008
Whirlwind
My head has been mixed up all day. This morning, my camp director texted me saying he had just lost three female counselors and desperately needed me to come.
Meanwhile, we all know how excited I've been about not going, which is to say, not at all. I was looking at the future with optimism, but also with this protestant ethic of doing what I have to do. Pushing through, like I always do.
I thought I was graduating this December, but this afternoon, I went to see my adviser. Lo and behold, I need six classes to graduate, not four, like I thought. It would be absolutely impossible for me to get through it all between now and then. I know, because I know I'm really good at setting unrealistic goals. No way can I possibly afford and manage full-time work and two summer classes, or full-time work and four classes this fall. It would be impossible.
I dropped a class this semester, because I took on too much. It was a really tough decision. But between working full-time and writing for the paper, and my other classes, I had one grade that was suffering. I could not keep up, or catch up. I thought about the prospect of trying to kick my own ass with it to even get a C, but that might have been at the expense of my other high grades.
My job is stressful also. I don't know if I've described it much. I'm a temp, and I've been there for nearly four months, and am trying to get hired by the University. Meanwhile, the first round of interviews are set to begin two weeks from now.
And meanwhile, I have a lot of responsibility and am already struggling to do everything for school, when recently a higher-up told my supervisor he may want to talk to me about not doing my schoolwork while on the job, if I'm hired. That in itself pisses me off because a) she never said anything to me about it on her own, and b) I only do schoolwork when I am caught up with everything else, so it shouldn't be a problem; if I've got nothing to do but to answer the phones, at that point, what's it to her if I open up a textbook, especially when I work on a college campus?
So, I'm thinking I'm going to withdraw my application and stay as a temp until they hire someone or until I come to camp, whichever comes first.
I talked to my roommate, because the other important thing I needed to know was that all was cool on the homefront, and I could go to camp and pay my cheap rent, and she'd have the place to herself, but I could come back and live here and work and go to school until at least December. She said that was okay, so that way I can save my camp money for tuition instead of having to plan to move; I definitely would not be able to go out there if that were the case.
Man, lots of decisions in one day, but I feel like a weight has been lifted.
Of course, the job thing for the fall may stress me a little, but I think I should have no problem finding temp work again as soon as I get back, until I find something.
And I really feel like I need to go. Already, I was thinking about how much I would miss it. One of my ex-campers just found me on Facebook. She's 20 now, she's engaged, she's in college, and she has two kids. I didn't expect that at all, but although she is so young to already be a mother, she grew up in foster care, and it is just so nice to see her happy. And she's really happy, and I have no doubt she is a wonderful mother. She has emailed me sporadically over the years. I like to think I had a positive effect on her in some way, in at least that she stayed focused and kept a head on her shoulders, and knew things would get better.
That is why I want to go to camp. And it's the same reason I want to be a teacher. I feel like each and every person who works in that capacity is there for a reason. And there are things we say to these kids, and only we can say them. If I weren't there, maybe someone else would be, in my place. But every single person involved has something unique and important to contribute, and I love being part of that.
I'm applying to this program to teach "at-risk" children. I don't just want to be any teacher anywhere; I want to be in a specific place for the kids who need me. I know I will be able to reach at least some of them, and that will make everything worth it.
That's my motivation for finishing school at all right now, having the goal of getting out and teaching these kids. I think about it all the time.
So, whether I graduate this winter or next spring, doesn't really make a difference. No matter what I'm going to be doing something in the following fall, whether teaching, or on my way to teaching.
I guess it's funny how you can realize things all at once. It's all or nothing for me. All confusion or all clarity. But with everything I find out, I know I'm doing what's right. And I could stress about this or that or what if blah blah blah, but in the end, I always get where I'm going.
My head has been mixed up all day. This morning, my camp director texted me saying he had just lost three female counselors and desperately needed me to come.
Meanwhile, we all know how excited I've been about not going, which is to say, not at all. I was looking at the future with optimism, but also with this protestant ethic of doing what I have to do. Pushing through, like I always do.
I thought I was graduating this December, but this afternoon, I went to see my adviser. Lo and behold, I need six classes to graduate, not four, like I thought. It would be absolutely impossible for me to get through it all between now and then. I know, because I know I'm really good at setting unrealistic goals. No way can I possibly afford and manage full-time work and two summer classes, or full-time work and four classes this fall. It would be impossible.
I dropped a class this semester, because I took on too much. It was a really tough decision. But between working full-time and writing for the paper, and my other classes, I had one grade that was suffering. I could not keep up, or catch up. I thought about the prospect of trying to kick my own ass with it to even get a C, but that might have been at the expense of my other high grades.
My job is stressful also. I don't know if I've described it much. I'm a temp, and I've been there for nearly four months, and am trying to get hired by the University. Meanwhile, the first round of interviews are set to begin two weeks from now.
And meanwhile, I have a lot of responsibility and am already struggling to do everything for school, when recently a higher-up told my supervisor he may want to talk to me about not doing my schoolwork while on the job, if I'm hired. That in itself pisses me off because a) she never said anything to me about it on her own, and b) I only do schoolwork when I am caught up with everything else, so it shouldn't be a problem; if I've got nothing to do but to answer the phones, at that point, what's it to her if I open up a textbook, especially when I work on a college campus?
So, I'm thinking I'm going to withdraw my application and stay as a temp until they hire someone or until I come to camp, whichever comes first.
I talked to my roommate, because the other important thing I needed to know was that all was cool on the homefront, and I could go to camp and pay my cheap rent, and she'd have the place to herself, but I could come back and live here and work and go to school until at least December. She said that was okay, so that way I can save my camp money for tuition instead of having to plan to move; I definitely would not be able to go out there if that were the case.
Man, lots of decisions in one day, but I feel like a weight has been lifted.
Of course, the job thing for the fall may stress me a little, but I think I should have no problem finding temp work again as soon as I get back, until I find something.
And I really feel like I need to go. Already, I was thinking about how much I would miss it. One of my ex-campers just found me on Facebook. She's 20 now, she's engaged, she's in college, and she has two kids. I didn't expect that at all, but although she is so young to already be a mother, she grew up in foster care, and it is just so nice to see her happy. And she's really happy, and I have no doubt she is a wonderful mother. She has emailed me sporadically over the years. I like to think I had a positive effect on her in some way, in at least that she stayed focused and kept a head on her shoulders, and knew things would get better.
That is why I want to go to camp. And it's the same reason I want to be a teacher. I feel like each and every person who works in that capacity is there for a reason. And there are things we say to these kids, and only we can say them. If I weren't there, maybe someone else would be, in my place. But every single person involved has something unique and important to contribute, and I love being part of that.
I'm applying to this program to teach "at-risk" children. I don't just want to be any teacher anywhere; I want to be in a specific place for the kids who need me. I know I will be able to reach at least some of them, and that will make everything worth it.
That's my motivation for finishing school at all right now, having the goal of getting out and teaching these kids. I think about it all the time.
So, whether I graduate this winter or next spring, doesn't really make a difference. No matter what I'm going to be doing something in the following fall, whether teaching, or on my way to teaching.
I guess it's funny how you can realize things all at once. It's all or nothing for me. All confusion or all clarity. But with everything I find out, I know I'm doing what's right. And I could stress about this or that or what if blah blah blah, but in the end, I always get where I'm going.
Labels: Camp, College, Goals, Work
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Camp
Well, it's practically official that I will not be at camp this summer. I've got a good job that's worth keeping, and I've got some courses lined up to take. The only thing that will get me through is knowing that I am graduating, and can return soon, or go into teaching as soon as possible. Camp makes my year. It's made much of my adult life. It's the most positive thing I've ever experienced.
Last year, in my sixth year of camp counselordom since i started, I had the privilege of writing the content for the camp's new Web site. I really love how it turned out. Check it out, if you have a minute. I guess if anything I should be grateful I got to play with kids all last summer, and play mini-golf and video games and drive go-carts, and mix paints, and watch movies, not to mention all the fun I had with the counselors in our off time as well.
Going running every evening, out in the country moonlight. Then raiding the huge freezer and making ice cream sundaes or cheese sticks, or going out to the scenic overlook and sitting in a camping chair and drinking beer under the stars.
I found out last summer I could make up silly songs on the spot with my guitar. I would just take it outside during downtime and walk around and sing to the kids. I could sing about the shirt they were wearing, or the way they grinned. Sometimes I'd ask them what I should sing about, and before we knew it I had "The duck song" and "The Elephant Song." Things like that.
And I'll never forget the dances every week. Some kids would just sit and watch everyone. Others would run around the room, making their own fun. Some girls would gather in groups and dance in a circle. Some little boys and girls would dance together.
I won't forget letting the girls get rowdy before bedtime. Painting all their little nails. I bought these tiny scented polishes in rainbow colors. They loved those.
I miss the notes they wrote me. Some of them I've kept forever. I know one day I'll have to get rid of them, but it's so hard to give away the things that children give you. I still have ceramic fish and hearts and other animals they made for me.
I'll miss singing on the bus, and explaining things to them at the museum. Asking all their curious questions. Making them laugh.
And I'll miss the more serious moments where they'll open up to you, and a foster kid will talk about how they miss their parents, or a little girl will tell you she lives with her grandmother, but she studies hard.
I'll even miss rolling out of bed and putting on my bright orange camp t-shirt and khaki shorts for the millionth field trip, slurping bad camp coffee, serving up breakfast to the kids and talking and joking about who knows what.
I'll miss underwater races and getting dunked in the pool, and going down the water slide and getting out and hearing a voice say, "Let's go again!"
Let's go again. I've gone again almost every summer. I know I'll be there to visit this year. I know this isn't where things stop. I just have to do what I have to do. For now.
Well, it's practically official that I will not be at camp this summer. I've got a good job that's worth keeping, and I've got some courses lined up to take. The only thing that will get me through is knowing that I am graduating, and can return soon, or go into teaching as soon as possible. Camp makes my year. It's made much of my adult life. It's the most positive thing I've ever experienced.
Last year, in my sixth year of camp counselordom since i started, I had the privilege of writing the content for the camp's new Web site. I really love how it turned out. Check it out, if you have a minute. I guess if anything I should be grateful I got to play with kids all last summer, and play mini-golf and video games and drive go-carts, and mix paints, and watch movies, not to mention all the fun I had with the counselors in our off time as well.
Going running every evening, out in the country moonlight. Then raiding the huge freezer and making ice cream sundaes or cheese sticks, or going out to the scenic overlook and sitting in a camping chair and drinking beer under the stars.
I found out last summer I could make up silly songs on the spot with my guitar. I would just take it outside during downtime and walk around and sing to the kids. I could sing about the shirt they were wearing, or the way they grinned. Sometimes I'd ask them what I should sing about, and before we knew it I had "The duck song" and "The Elephant Song." Things like that.
And I'll never forget the dances every week. Some kids would just sit and watch everyone. Others would run around the room, making their own fun. Some girls would gather in groups and dance in a circle. Some little boys and girls would dance together.
I won't forget letting the girls get rowdy before bedtime. Painting all their little nails. I bought these tiny scented polishes in rainbow colors. They loved those.
I miss the notes they wrote me. Some of them I've kept forever. I know one day I'll have to get rid of them, but it's so hard to give away the things that children give you. I still have ceramic fish and hearts and other animals they made for me.
I'll miss singing on the bus, and explaining things to them at the museum. Asking all their curious questions. Making them laugh.
And I'll miss the more serious moments where they'll open up to you, and a foster kid will talk about how they miss their parents, or a little girl will tell you she lives with her grandmother, but she studies hard.
I'll even miss rolling out of bed and putting on my bright orange camp t-shirt and khaki shorts for the millionth field trip, slurping bad camp coffee, serving up breakfast to the kids and talking and joking about who knows what.
I'll miss underwater races and getting dunked in the pool, and going down the water slide and getting out and hearing a voice say, "Let's go again!"
Let's go again. I've gone again almost every summer. I know I'll be there to visit this year. I know this isn't where things stop. I just have to do what I have to do. For now.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Recycled Air
I'm at the teashouse and it's cold, and the caffeine's giving me the shakes and there are a million things I want to read and write, or maybe I could just sit here and do a sudoku puzzle. I dunno ...
I do want to tell you something i learned this summer. One of the so many things, and that is to never be afraid of your own success. When I grow up, I want to be a writer, a teacher, a photographer, a philosopher, an athlete, and a musician ... but when I grow up is false. It implies some far away time. Like when you're a kid. Like the kids at camp. Like how the kids come on Sunday and cry sometimes because they can't imagine the weeklong lifetime they are about to experience without sometimes the dearest ones present -- their parents, or grandparents, or big brother, or dog, or the teddy bear they forgot at home even.
A week goes by, with all the time in between spent learning, doing new things, doing favorite things, making things, meeting people, or dancing when they never have before, or getting to play with food or shaving cream without getting in trouble, or being able to pick up an adult and dunk them underwater, or climbing a ladder to go down a slide that lasts forever ... until you reach the pool and want to get out and do it again.
And this says something about time. Something we've said before about time, but in a different way ... the part where the future is not far off from the present. That is exactly right. But it is something that, given the right perspective, can become a point of celebration.
I love you, ____. I still think you are beautiful, and intelligent, and articulate, and talented, and amazing. Please do not be afraid of your own success.
Sometimes i think in idealistic cliches, but then I wonder where they come from. I wonder where all these movies, like Dream for an Insomniac or Akeelah and the Bee come from. Are they based on fictional, irrational, theories for dreamers? Or are they based on the possibilities that lie inside every living thing in their potential for greatness as being of god, as beings formed by energy that moves with a will that is part of a greater, universal will.
I'm sorry to get cerebral here. I'm just as emotional. I've found it doesn't have to be hard to go between the two anymore. I have found that emotion and logic do indeed work together. I have found that as I suspected science and romance are the same thing (listen to Rilo Kiley's "Science vs. Romance" if you get a chance. That song is fucking amazing.)
It wasn't just Camp. It wasn't just new friends. It wasn't just therapy. I wish I could explain it better, but when words fall short, or become too much, I am reminded to simplify. And just as in meditation, sometimes the best thing to do is to clear your mind completely, blocking out memory, music, and the metaphorical weather of whatever is going on in the world, and feel deep down to your soul, spirit, will, inner child, whatever you want to call it because these words are only symbols, which is the point ... and listen to your intention, because rationalism does not always explain things the way they can be assumed. And in this case, my intention is to acknowledge something that was beautiful, and fun, and that had moments of inspiration, but something that has reached ... I don't know what ... I suddenly have this image in my mind of a ferry reaching the seattle skyline ... I guess in other words, and for lack of an original thought necessarily ... We've gotten where we needed to go.
And if you can conclude all of these things, and sincerely mean them, then I pray you will hold onto them dearly, in the face of whatever negativity you are digesting, and encountering, because the lessons, the feelings you are resurrecting from the depths of your mind and heart are the most important things that could ever come out of this entire experience, and having these things to hold, whether with me, near me, remembering me, talking to me, or just reading a book or mixing or not thinking at all ...
I've said it before, I'll say it again,
I believe in you. I love you. And I hope you, in time, will continue to remember the good parts, and that you will also be aware that no apologies are necessary ... that all this had a purpose, as this present moment does.
I will be here for you if you need me, always. At the moment this is hard, but it will get easier, because one of the things I have learned is that I am stronger than I have ever known. That any number of things, as you observed, could have broken me long ago. And so in being strong, as this does hurt even if I appear cold, I am comforted by my faith in myself and in you and the universe. And I wish you the best in finding out what that strength is for you -- because you have it too. Everyone does.
Believe me, because just as you can find proof for the theories that cause you to sink, or want to give up, or to shut down under the pressure ... you can, with the same eyes, the right pair of eyes (Hunter s. Thompson said) find proof to support a theory of something better and beautiful and comforting ...
I have to go.
But for what it's worth i know exactly what you have meant in everything you've said, and I want you to know that it is not too late to experience this or learn these things so long as you remember them and act on them.
It's like the part on Waking Life when the four guys are walking down the street, and they are talking about theory vs. action.
It's like addiction, whether to chocolate, or advil, or a way of thinking as habit. There's this model my shrink gave me. I don't know if I told you about it, but it had the steps of how to overcome ... whatever ... I honestly think it applies to everything ... but there's this part, this line, this stage I sat in for what seems like forever. It was the contemplation stage. The next stage was action.
I was so afraid of failing that I couldn't act. I've always felt like that. It's because of how I grew up. Not an excuse, just an unhealthy way of existing. So anyway, after the action phase, and a couple other steps, the last step was relapse, otherwise known as failure in my eyes ... but my shrink said, if you get to that one, you're not done for ... you just start at the beginning again.
And that's what life is about anyway. Robert fulghum said that long ago, and I read it in one of his books before i left for Seattle ... order to disorder to order again ...
Regardless, acknowledging this cycle gives me the perspective I need to keep things in line so I can handle less than perfect times ...
But the steps ... btw, it's not 12 steps. It's some theory in psychology ... but anyway, if you get to the end, and you look at how much and little, depending on your perspective, it took to get from the theory part to the action part, you start to believe in yourself, and the process, and you decide that it is amazing, and worthwhile, but not necessarily something you want to do again just to start at the beginning.
Now i suddenly wonder if you will understand. I see a slight contradiction in what I'm saying, but I don't. I guess it is all true ... Contradictions don't always disprove truths, but nevertheless, I will say that with these contemplations and actions and relapses, whatever the case, there are so many choices in between.
I feel i have made a very large tangent, but on the other hand, I have said exactly what is necessary, because thinking of things in these terms is just one facet of the jewel the Sandman gave to Daniel, and i know, though, because I believe in you, that seeing this one side may be enough to show you them all.
Okay, i have to go now, but thank you very much for everything. I do appreciate it. I really do. You taught me some things early on. Remember that when you think you need someone to tell you the things you already know.
Have a good day, sweetheart,
Love,
I'm at the teashouse and it's cold, and the caffeine's giving me the shakes and there are a million things I want to read and write, or maybe I could just sit here and do a sudoku puzzle. I dunno ...
I do want to tell you something i learned this summer. One of the so many things, and that is to never be afraid of your own success. When I grow up, I want to be a writer, a teacher, a photographer, a philosopher, an athlete, and a musician ... but when I grow up is false. It implies some far away time. Like when you're a kid. Like the kids at camp. Like how the kids come on Sunday and cry sometimes because they can't imagine the weeklong lifetime they are about to experience without sometimes the dearest ones present -- their parents, or grandparents, or big brother, or dog, or the teddy bear they forgot at home even.
A week goes by, with all the time in between spent learning, doing new things, doing favorite things, making things, meeting people, or dancing when they never have before, or getting to play with food or shaving cream without getting in trouble, or being able to pick up an adult and dunk them underwater, or climbing a ladder to go down a slide that lasts forever ... until you reach the pool and want to get out and do it again.
And this says something about time. Something we've said before about time, but in a different way ... the part where the future is not far off from the present. That is exactly right. But it is something that, given the right perspective, can become a point of celebration.
I love you, ____. I still think you are beautiful, and intelligent, and articulate, and talented, and amazing. Please do not be afraid of your own success.
Sometimes i think in idealistic cliches, but then I wonder where they come from. I wonder where all these movies, like Dream for an Insomniac or Akeelah and the Bee come from. Are they based on fictional, irrational, theories for dreamers? Or are they based on the possibilities that lie inside every living thing in their potential for greatness as being of god, as beings formed by energy that moves with a will that is part of a greater, universal will.
I'm sorry to get cerebral here. I'm just as emotional. I've found it doesn't have to be hard to go between the two anymore. I have found that emotion and logic do indeed work together. I have found that as I suspected science and romance are the same thing (listen to Rilo Kiley's "Science vs. Romance" if you get a chance. That song is fucking amazing.)
It wasn't just Camp. It wasn't just new friends. It wasn't just therapy. I wish I could explain it better, but when words fall short, or become too much, I am reminded to simplify. And just as in meditation, sometimes the best thing to do is to clear your mind completely, blocking out memory, music, and the metaphorical weather of whatever is going on in the world, and feel deep down to your soul, spirit, will, inner child, whatever you want to call it because these words are only symbols, which is the point ... and listen to your intention, because rationalism does not always explain things the way they can be assumed. And in this case, my intention is to acknowledge something that was beautiful, and fun, and that had moments of inspiration, but something that has reached ... I don't know what ... I suddenly have this image in my mind of a ferry reaching the seattle skyline ... I guess in other words, and for lack of an original thought necessarily ... We've gotten where we needed to go.
And if you can conclude all of these things, and sincerely mean them, then I pray you will hold onto them dearly, in the face of whatever negativity you are digesting, and encountering, because the lessons, the feelings you are resurrecting from the depths of your mind and heart are the most important things that could ever come out of this entire experience, and having these things to hold, whether with me, near me, remembering me, talking to me, or just reading a book or mixing or not thinking at all ...
I've said it before, I'll say it again,
I believe in you. I love you. And I hope you, in time, will continue to remember the good parts, and that you will also be aware that no apologies are necessary ... that all this had a purpose, as this present moment does.
I will be here for you if you need me, always. At the moment this is hard, but it will get easier, because one of the things I have learned is that I am stronger than I have ever known. That any number of things, as you observed, could have broken me long ago. And so in being strong, as this does hurt even if I appear cold, I am comforted by my faith in myself and in you and the universe. And I wish you the best in finding out what that strength is for you -- because you have it too. Everyone does.
Believe me, because just as you can find proof for the theories that cause you to sink, or want to give up, or to shut down under the pressure ... you can, with the same eyes, the right pair of eyes (Hunter s. Thompson said) find proof to support a theory of something better and beautiful and comforting ...
I have to go.
But for what it's worth i know exactly what you have meant in everything you've said, and I want you to know that it is not too late to experience this or learn these things so long as you remember them and act on them.
It's like the part on Waking Life when the four guys are walking down the street, and they are talking about theory vs. action.
It's like addiction, whether to chocolate, or advil, or a way of thinking as habit. There's this model my shrink gave me. I don't know if I told you about it, but it had the steps of how to overcome ... whatever ... I honestly think it applies to everything ... but there's this part, this line, this stage I sat in for what seems like forever. It was the contemplation stage. The next stage was action.
I was so afraid of failing that I couldn't act. I've always felt like that. It's because of how I grew up. Not an excuse, just an unhealthy way of existing. So anyway, after the action phase, and a couple other steps, the last step was relapse, otherwise known as failure in my eyes ... but my shrink said, if you get to that one, you're not done for ... you just start at the beginning again.
And that's what life is about anyway. Robert fulghum said that long ago, and I read it in one of his books before i left for Seattle ... order to disorder to order again ...
Regardless, acknowledging this cycle gives me the perspective I need to keep things in line so I can handle less than perfect times ...
But the steps ... btw, it's not 12 steps. It's some theory in psychology ... but anyway, if you get to the end, and you look at how much and little, depending on your perspective, it took to get from the theory part to the action part, you start to believe in yourself, and the process, and you decide that it is amazing, and worthwhile, but not necessarily something you want to do again just to start at the beginning.
Now i suddenly wonder if you will understand. I see a slight contradiction in what I'm saying, but I don't. I guess it is all true ... Contradictions don't always disprove truths, but nevertheless, I will say that with these contemplations and actions and relapses, whatever the case, there are so many choices in between.
I feel i have made a very large tangent, but on the other hand, I have said exactly what is necessary, because thinking of things in these terms is just one facet of the jewel the Sandman gave to Daniel, and i know, though, because I believe in you, that seeing this one side may be enough to show you them all.
Okay, i have to go now, but thank you very much for everything. I do appreciate it. I really do. You taught me some things early on. Remember that when you think you need someone to tell you the things you already know.
Have a good day, sweetheart,
Love,
Labels: Addiction, Camp, Career, Goals, Movies, Rilo Kiley, Seattle, Spirituality, Therapy, Work
Friday, June 15, 2007
Hi. Long time no talk.
I've been having a panic attack for what seems like the last two hours, so this may not be the best time to write. But what else can I do with all this anxious energy?
I haven't written on this thing in so long. I haven't written anything for myself, even, in what seems just as long.
I have not written a complete song in two years.
But I've been busy. The busy part has been spent making mistakes, and then picking up the pieces of past mes, and trying to break patterns in both thought and action.
Sometimes all this is easier than others.
I thought I learned several years ago that things never get easier, that they never stop changing, that bad things can continue to happen, that people constantly come and go ... I thought I knew a lot. I even thought I was an idealist.
But what I have learned since is that "knowing" things doesn't get you very far between where you are and where you want to be.
So here I am, starting over like so many other times, while knowing this will not be the last, and pushing the envelope, trying to develop a new sense of self, a positive one, trying to not only dream, but to act, and trying to make decisions.
I am finding out how many decisions there really are.
I guess maybe I should start over, and let you know what is new, to catch you up, for whatever reason:
I have been to jail.
I've totaled two vehicles in my life.
I've made countless mistakes, and learned from some.
I've been in a fight.
I've been a camp counselor for now six out of the last seven years.
I've been the editor-in-chief of a daily newspaper.
I've been in love.
I've been in lust.
I've said things I didn't mean.
I've meant things I shouldn't have said.
I've hated myself. And a lot of other people. And the world, sometimes, and acted accordingly.
I've had dreams I wished were real.
I've had realities come at me and feel as if they were nightmares while they were happening.
But I've found that situations repeat themselves and can be presented as tests for your so-called new and improved self.
I have found that wisdom neither comes from experience nor age.
I have found that I prefer to believe that the body's natural state is one of calm, and a form of happiness, when not interjected with nonsensically emotional thoughts manifested from personal systems shaped by separate realities.
I have come to a place where I can set goals and surprise myself at accomplishing even the smaller ones.
I have come to appreciate, when I remember, that the differences between individuals are often as vast as those between nations.
I have come to recognize the past while consciously shooting for a present that I can own, and when I say I, I mean me, and the me I mean is the purest form of me, the one I like to believe is strong and good.
I read today in Les Mis, which is wonderful -- and I agree with Victor Hugo, or at least the narrator on this, completely -- that within every human being is an animal, and not just one animal but all animals ... because the last few years have shown me that within me is a turtle, a lamb, a rabbit, a wolf, a lion, a sheep, a black widow spider, a bluebird, and many more I have yet to discover.
This thought is distressing sometimes. Because these animals within humans all comprise an orchestra of virtues and faults; and all virtues have faults, and all faults have virtues. It bothers me as much in one vein as it motivates me in another. It gives me hope in still another. And at times this realization, whether in a moment of release or even in contemplation, is enough to chill my bones and palpitate my heart.
And doing "what is right" is such a broad yet narrow way of thinking, isn't it?
I've made mistakes that others would be proud to make, and have told me so.
And some of the good things I've done, the ones I am acknowledged for, amount to almost nothing in my own eyes when scrutinized underneath my microscopic system of values.
So I guess that's everything, without saying much, all the issues I've been thinking about while not really. All that a few good books, good deeds, mistakes, and a little therapy have taught me so far.
But I will say that all in all, I'm working my way toward a form of happiness I've never quite felt before -- the kind that you can get to no matter what your circumstances ... a kind of comfort I would love to feel for any length of time in my own skin, hopefully, forever ... the kind that allows you to love and give and receive, and be good to others no matter what is going on at the moment ... the kind that would just feel peaceful.
That's what I want very, very much. And that's all I'd like for the present and future. So that's all I feel like writing. I'm gonna get back to finding something to laugh at, or somethin' .... cause that's all I need. That's all anybody needs.
I've been having a panic attack for what seems like the last two hours, so this may not be the best time to write. But what else can I do with all this anxious energy?
I haven't written on this thing in so long. I haven't written anything for myself, even, in what seems just as long.
I have not written a complete song in two years.
But I've been busy. The busy part has been spent making mistakes, and then picking up the pieces of past mes, and trying to break patterns in both thought and action.
Sometimes all this is easier than others.
I thought I learned several years ago that things never get easier, that they never stop changing, that bad things can continue to happen, that people constantly come and go ... I thought I knew a lot. I even thought I was an idealist.
But what I have learned since is that "knowing" things doesn't get you very far between where you are and where you want to be.
So here I am, starting over like so many other times, while knowing this will not be the last, and pushing the envelope, trying to develop a new sense of self, a positive one, trying to not only dream, but to act, and trying to make decisions.
I am finding out how many decisions there really are.
I guess maybe I should start over, and let you know what is new, to catch you up, for whatever reason:
I have been to jail.
I've totaled two vehicles in my life.
I've made countless mistakes, and learned from some.
I've been in a fight.
I've been a camp counselor for now six out of the last seven years.
I've been the editor-in-chief of a daily newspaper.
I've been in love.
I've been in lust.
I've said things I didn't mean.
I've meant things I shouldn't have said.
I've hated myself. And a lot of other people. And the world, sometimes, and acted accordingly.
I've had dreams I wished were real.
I've had realities come at me and feel as if they were nightmares while they were happening.
But I've found that situations repeat themselves and can be presented as tests for your so-called new and improved self.
I have found that wisdom neither comes from experience nor age.
I have found that I prefer to believe that the body's natural state is one of calm, and a form of happiness, when not interjected with nonsensically emotional thoughts manifested from personal systems shaped by separate realities.
I have come to a place where I can set goals and surprise myself at accomplishing even the smaller ones.
I have come to appreciate, when I remember, that the differences between individuals are often as vast as those between nations.
I have come to recognize the past while consciously shooting for a present that I can own, and when I say I, I mean me, and the me I mean is the purest form of me, the one I like to believe is strong and good.
I read today in Les Mis, which is wonderful -- and I agree with Victor Hugo, or at least the narrator on this, completely -- that within every human being is an animal, and not just one animal but all animals ... because the last few years have shown me that within me is a turtle, a lamb, a rabbit, a wolf, a lion, a sheep, a black widow spider, a bluebird, and many more I have yet to discover.
This thought is distressing sometimes. Because these animals within humans all comprise an orchestra of virtues and faults; and all virtues have faults, and all faults have virtues. It bothers me as much in one vein as it motivates me in another. It gives me hope in still another. And at times this realization, whether in a moment of release or even in contemplation, is enough to chill my bones and palpitate my heart.
And doing "what is right" is such a broad yet narrow way of thinking, isn't it?
I've made mistakes that others would be proud to make, and have told me so.
And some of the good things I've done, the ones I am acknowledged for, amount to almost nothing in my own eyes when scrutinized underneath my microscopic system of values.
So I guess that's everything, without saying much, all the issues I've been thinking about while not really. All that a few good books, good deeds, mistakes, and a little therapy have taught me so far.
But I will say that all in all, I'm working my way toward a form of happiness I've never quite felt before -- the kind that you can get to no matter what your circumstances ... a kind of comfort I would love to feel for any length of time in my own skin, hopefully, forever ... the kind that allows you to love and give and receive, and be good to others no matter what is going on at the moment ... the kind that would just feel peaceful.
That's what I want very, very much. And that's all I'd like for the present and future. So that's all I feel like writing. I'm gonna get back to finding something to laugh at, or somethin' .... cause that's all I need. That's all anybody needs.
Labels: Books, Camp, Jail, Les Miserables, Mistakes, Music, Regret, Therapy
