I love being surprised by people. Well, I probably enjoy being right about people too, but surprises only reinforce my belief in our ability to change our perspectives in life. This is why I love discussions and the questions they force me to ask myself and the things I end up discovering after further contemplation. I should probably write more of these things done - especially with such a shotty memory as mine - but I also like having them change on me without documentation. My brain is filled with synapses that never stop firing, just like our lives and opinions that never stop chaning. That is, of course, as long as we remain open-minded about things.
The latest shocker to cross my cerebrum (is that where we do our thinking? I was never too good at biology - Jenn, can u help me out here?) is that the curse of coupledom is not only strong in women. A few weeks ago I discussed this on my blog, but now I feel even more strongly that this pressure to find love and your "soul mate" exists for both men and women. For some reason, though, I get the impression that women are stereotyped as the ones who want the relationship and men only say they do to get laid. Of course, I hate all stereotypes! Yet, constant analysis of children this year has taught me that sometimes there is truth in them. Even today it was pointed out that the boys were all watching the cherry pickers while the girls were busying themselves elsewhere. So, perhaps our gender does effect our behaviour to a certain degree (BUT I will never stand down from the POV that we can never say that with 100% certainty until u remove all preconcieved notions of gender from the children's parents, teachers and everybody who interacts with that child - even telly adverts!).
Recently, I found myself sitting with two blokes in the pub and they brought up the question of coupledom. This is a topic I generally discuss with my girl friends instead of my male friends, so I found it an interesting new experience. I had heard of these moments before, though, and suspicious that this might be the case. To be the only girl present, and the only one who thought coupledom was overrated was quite an interesting realization. I've known for years and even brought the topic up in feminist discussions, but this conversation only reiterated the fact that women are not the only ones affected by "love-mongering." And, with the current political atmosphere (the fact that there is a war going on, which will require the production of more babies, which is essentially still sold to us as the utimate achievement of happiness within the prior ultimate achievement of happiness - finding "the one"), it is no wonder that I found myself in this situation. I was also the only one present who could consciously admit to the fact that money was evil and the reason for our environmental problems.
Was I the crazy tree-hugging hippy in the group? I hope so. Am I the only one? I hope not. I like standing out in the crowds, and realized last night that I even love that I stand up for what I believe in. So, my outrage at coupledom....just another activist dream? Or, is it merely just the right thing for me?
Now that is a humdinger! I am constantly self-analysing and I think that is a good thing. It helps me realize what I'm doing, where that might put me and why it is that I feel that way. Recently a colleague commented on how children need to develop "best friends" in order to develop an ability to pair up in the future. Well, my best friends were never best in a mutual sense. I remember my first best friend ditching me for her best friends all of the time. This hurt! By high school, I was so over with best friends that I distinctly remembering boycotting the whole idea. This is not unlike my experiences with dating. But it never seems to be the same with other people. So, why am I so special? Hmmm, I will never know, and that's probably ok. Perhaps I only feel special because nobody ever talks openly about these things. Well, here I am, being a bit more open about my life. Perhaps this will begin an onslaught of more realizations and finally the breakdown of it being "abnormal." First I had to admit it to myself, though. I'm not a monogamist. I will never be satisfied with one person for the rest of my life. I prefer having a network of people to rely on rather than trusting myself to only one other person. I don't think I'm alone...and I don't think it's unhealthy either. The only unhealthy thing is denying that I feel this way.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Too Small/Too Smart?
First published on Facebook on Wednesday, May 28, 2008 at 4:16pm
There is a song on my MP3 player that I am currently loving. It's called Behind the Sea by Panic! at the Disco, off of their latest cd. It's a beautiful light song, and it always makes me think about life, which only adds to it's beauty. One of its best lines, in my opinion, is one that repeats throughout. That line is not without its irritation, though, as i'm not quite sure how the line goes. i know the words are in the cd case, but I don't have that right now...and I kinda like the ambiguity about the line. I think it even changes in the refrain: '...and we're all too small to talk to God. Yes we're all too smart to talk to God.'
I like both versions. The latter is important to me, because I consider myself a philosopher, and the thought of not believing in something higher than yourself because you are too 'smart' to do so is ironic. I remember discussing this with Jenn - dragging her into the philosophical discussions she hated so much that rather than fighting me through them would merely give in to what I was saying with a mere 'yes dear' as soon as I began to rant (and that is why she was the best roommate in the world!) - and how as Einstein went further into his exploration of the world he explained that nobody could look at the world and everything that we do not understand and not conclude that there was some higher being in control of it all. ( He said it better, but of course, I am terrible at quotes!) And eventually this helped me move from atheism to agnosticism. It took some ego-swallowing, but eventually I got there. And I have been happier since. I like being undecided on the issue: it helps me discuss the world inconclusively, which I miss doing. I am also okay without ever finding the answer. Life is about the journey rather than the destination, right? and that is also why my plans for the future constantly change - life is about the journey, not the destination, so it's okay to not know where u will end up...just as long as throughout your journey u live your life as u want to remember it rather than regret it.
I enjoy the first part of that line as well. Are we really too small to talk to God? Maybe. People who pray, and believe that their prayers work must in some way believe that they can. But, then, of course, I shouldn't speak for them. Perhaps they believe, like me, that belief in yourself and your prayers is what brings you the answers to your prayers rather than the listening ear of God, or whatever you want to call the higher power. So, turning the line on its head - interpretting it in another way - are we too small to make a difference? Is the belief that we are too small to talk to God make us too smart to talk to him as well? In turn, does this then make us arrogant? If we are arrogant, should we not believe more in ourself? Or does arrogance then negate the necessity of belief?
All these questions have no answers. They are all merely thoughts that my song makes me ponder. I love that. I miss that. I miss the discussion. i love intellectual conversations. I can't wait to live in a city again
There is a song on my MP3 player that I am currently loving. It's called Behind the Sea by Panic! at the Disco, off of their latest cd. It's a beautiful light song, and it always makes me think about life, which only adds to it's beauty. One of its best lines, in my opinion, is one that repeats throughout. That line is not without its irritation, though, as i'm not quite sure how the line goes. i know the words are in the cd case, but I don't have that right now...and I kinda like the ambiguity about the line. I think it even changes in the refrain: '...and we're all too small to talk to God. Yes we're all too smart to talk to God.'
I like both versions. The latter is important to me, because I consider myself a philosopher, and the thought of not believing in something higher than yourself because you are too 'smart' to do so is ironic. I remember discussing this with Jenn - dragging her into the philosophical discussions she hated so much that rather than fighting me through them would merely give in to what I was saying with a mere 'yes dear' as soon as I began to rant (and that is why she was the best roommate in the world!) - and how as Einstein went further into his exploration of the world he explained that nobody could look at the world and everything that we do not understand and not conclude that there was some higher being in control of it all. ( He said it better, but of course, I am terrible at quotes!) And eventually this helped me move from atheism to agnosticism. It took some ego-swallowing, but eventually I got there. And I have been happier since. I like being undecided on the issue: it helps me discuss the world inconclusively, which I miss doing. I am also okay without ever finding the answer. Life is about the journey rather than the destination, right? and that is also why my plans for the future constantly change - life is about the journey, not the destination, so it's okay to not know where u will end up...just as long as throughout your journey u live your life as u want to remember it rather than regret it.
I enjoy the first part of that line as well. Are we really too small to talk to God? Maybe. People who pray, and believe that their prayers work must in some way believe that they can. But, then, of course, I shouldn't speak for them. Perhaps they believe, like me, that belief in yourself and your prayers is what brings you the answers to your prayers rather than the listening ear of God, or whatever you want to call the higher power. So, turning the line on its head - interpretting it in another way - are we too small to make a difference? Is the belief that we are too small to talk to God make us too smart to talk to him as well? In turn, does this then make us arrogant? If we are arrogant, should we not believe more in ourself? Or does arrogance then negate the necessity of belief?
All these questions have no answers. They are all merely thoughts that my song makes me ponder. I love that. I miss that. I miss the discussion. i love intellectual conversations. I can't wait to live in a city again
Anti-Volunteerism
First published on Facebook on Wednesday, May 28, 2008 at 8:46am
It finally dawned on me last night! I realized why I am absolutely so horribly distraught at Moor Park. Well, I'm not all of the time, but I do often feel like it's a wasted year. Now, don't get me wrong, I've learned a lot and continued to grow, but I've realized why I am discontent there.
Just over a year ago, somebody asked me why I was volunteering in Europe rather than working there. Truth be told, originally the plan was to strengthen a foreign language. Sadly, that programme fell through after I had been accepted, so I went with my second choice of countries - Great Britain. Why I had that as the second choice, I'm not sure, but I still don't regret that. I got to know the UK in many different lights this year - some first-person and many other second-person, and that was the fall-back from Italy. When Kristin and I were in Italy, I wondered what sort of person I would be now if I had gone there instead of Britain, and at the time, I didn't like that person quite so much as the person I had become in the UK instead. That person would not have gone to Morocco. That person would not have felt trapped with a bunch of kids, and lonely because she was the only one her age. That person would be fluent in another language by now, and perhaps she would have seen the underbelly of the Mediterranean instead of the rural sights of England. She would not have reconnected with her younger self in the same way, and confronted the demons hanging onto her soul since childhood. She might have become more involved with the community because it helped her work on her language skills, and she might have been a happier person more often because she was developing a language skill rather than just trying to be a better person.
And that is why I am not happy at Moor Park. I am treated like a lackie rather than a volunteer. When this upsets me, I defend my position as a 'member of staff' rather than a child, and that makes me more upset. I am not a member of staff. In fact, I get paid much less than them to put up with nearly as much §$%& as them, so I should get a bit more respect sometimes. At night, after a shitty day, they can reassure themselves with the fact that at least what they're doing now will help them financially in the long run. Not so with me. In fact, each day here makes me poorer. I do try to reassure myself with telling myself that I have gained something worth more than money here, but it has been difficult - especially lately.
Last night I met a man from Afghanistan. Although I tried to avoid discussions about politics, I got sucked into discussing my opinions on everything and how I keep putting off making a difference 'cause I don't know which difference will actually help. He sparked a soulful quest for me, though, and I am determined to stop putting this one off. I realized that I am unhappy at Moor Park because I don't feel like I'm making a difference. Even looking at my happiest moments from the past few weeks, one can easily discern that it is the moments where I feel I may have made a difference that I cherish the most. But ego has gotten in the way a lot and I spiral down into a pit of selfishness when I don't get the appreciation from the staff for how I am helping.
Basically, there is not a lot of room as a GAP student to make a difference. Like I said, I am either a lackie or a staff member who gets paid much less than everybody else. If this were a respectable position, Cassie and Kim would not have felt such vehemence about being treated like the GAP student who never showed up. Their reaction to that has only aided me feeling worthless here, but I need to get over that and just move on. I remember from my childhood that it was the little things that were said or done to me that made me the person that I am. Like myself as a child, the children I have helped this year will have been through those little moments. Sadly, I feel like there have not been enough of those moments, or that they might all have gone unnoticed. The optimist in me, however, hopes that I am wrong with those doubts.
A big reason for the lack of help I can provide is that the school doesn't really need me. I remember Amy asking me once how I could work for a big corporation like Chapters - it wasn't like me to support a conglomerate, was it? Well, that helped me find my feet a bit and I liked the anonymity I was given within the big company. For a part-time job throughout Uni, it was great. But when I wanted to feel like part of the solution rather than part of the problem, continuing there was no longer an option. This is interesting as it is on my list of possible employees again in the fall. I want my time to mean something though. I want to feel like my morals match my actions, and right now, as far as employment goes, they do not. Hopefully this fall will change that, except for the fact that I need to make money!
So, all in all, this year could have been improved if I was hired by the school to do what I do rather than donating my life to them for ten months. That is what I have learned. Needless to say, I cannot reccomend the same experience to young adults, and I should really let the organization know that. Oh well, something else to add to my to-do list...
It finally dawned on me last night! I realized why I am absolutely so horribly distraught at Moor Park. Well, I'm not all of the time, but I do often feel like it's a wasted year. Now, don't get me wrong, I've learned a lot and continued to grow, but I've realized why I am discontent there.
Just over a year ago, somebody asked me why I was volunteering in Europe rather than working there. Truth be told, originally the plan was to strengthen a foreign language. Sadly, that programme fell through after I had been accepted, so I went with my second choice of countries - Great Britain. Why I had that as the second choice, I'm not sure, but I still don't regret that. I got to know the UK in many different lights this year - some first-person and many other second-person, and that was the fall-back from Italy. When Kristin and I were in Italy, I wondered what sort of person I would be now if I had gone there instead of Britain, and at the time, I didn't like that person quite so much as the person I had become in the UK instead. That person would not have gone to Morocco. That person would not have felt trapped with a bunch of kids, and lonely because she was the only one her age. That person would be fluent in another language by now, and perhaps she would have seen the underbelly of the Mediterranean instead of the rural sights of England. She would not have reconnected with her younger self in the same way, and confronted the demons hanging onto her soul since childhood. She might have become more involved with the community because it helped her work on her language skills, and she might have been a happier person more often because she was developing a language skill rather than just trying to be a better person.
And that is why I am not happy at Moor Park. I am treated like a lackie rather than a volunteer. When this upsets me, I defend my position as a 'member of staff' rather than a child, and that makes me more upset. I am not a member of staff. In fact, I get paid much less than them to put up with nearly as much §$%& as them, so I should get a bit more respect sometimes. At night, after a shitty day, they can reassure themselves with the fact that at least what they're doing now will help them financially in the long run. Not so with me. In fact, each day here makes me poorer. I do try to reassure myself with telling myself that I have gained something worth more than money here, but it has been difficult - especially lately.
Last night I met a man from Afghanistan. Although I tried to avoid discussions about politics, I got sucked into discussing my opinions on everything and how I keep putting off making a difference 'cause I don't know which difference will actually help. He sparked a soulful quest for me, though, and I am determined to stop putting this one off. I realized that I am unhappy at Moor Park because I don't feel like I'm making a difference. Even looking at my happiest moments from the past few weeks, one can easily discern that it is the moments where I feel I may have made a difference that I cherish the most. But ego has gotten in the way a lot and I spiral down into a pit of selfishness when I don't get the appreciation from the staff for how I am helping.
Basically, there is not a lot of room as a GAP student to make a difference. Like I said, I am either a lackie or a staff member who gets paid much less than everybody else. If this were a respectable position, Cassie and Kim would not have felt such vehemence about being treated like the GAP student who never showed up. Their reaction to that has only aided me feeling worthless here, but I need to get over that and just move on. I remember from my childhood that it was the little things that were said or done to me that made me the person that I am. Like myself as a child, the children I have helped this year will have been through those little moments. Sadly, I feel like there have not been enough of those moments, or that they might all have gone unnoticed. The optimist in me, however, hopes that I am wrong with those doubts.
A big reason for the lack of help I can provide is that the school doesn't really need me. I remember Amy asking me once how I could work for a big corporation like Chapters - it wasn't like me to support a conglomerate, was it? Well, that helped me find my feet a bit and I liked the anonymity I was given within the big company. For a part-time job throughout Uni, it was great. But when I wanted to feel like part of the solution rather than part of the problem, continuing there was no longer an option. This is interesting as it is on my list of possible employees again in the fall. I want my time to mean something though. I want to feel like my morals match my actions, and right now, as far as employment goes, they do not. Hopefully this fall will change that, except for the fact that I need to make money!
So, all in all, this year could have been improved if I was hired by the school to do what I do rather than donating my life to them for ten months. That is what I have learned. Needless to say, I cannot reccomend the same experience to young adults, and I should really let the organization know that. Oh well, something else to add to my to-do list...
Trapped
First published on Facebook on Thursday, May 22, 2008 at 11:40pm
I was finally able to explain why I feel so trapped here tonight. I know it will probably change by tomorrow, and definitely be different by this time next week, so I wanted to record it.
I feel like this whole entire year I've been trying to live up to some expectations of what it means to be a GAP student at Moor Park. This includes how to get on with the kids, how to interact with the staff and even sometimes how to see myself compared to all of them. And that has been the most difficult thing to do this year.
People often assume that I'm homesick or lonely, but that's not it. I have felt lonely, but some of those moments have been ones of solace and recharging. I do not like living with so many people. I wish I lived on my own, even when I have had some of the best roommates. I enjoy my own company, and cherish my privacy. There was a point when I felt that I got very little of that here.
When I tried to explain to my friend here that I have struggled to live up to these expectations all year, she misunderstood me at first. She thought that I thought the expectations were to be a cheery. happy person, when in fact that's the person I miss the most here. With the staff, often I don't fit into their humour. Nobody seems to really appreciate my "radical" ideas of vegetarianism and I have been too timid to even broach the feminist thing. We discuss the kids and my travels, but that's ever as far as it goes. So, basically, I have failed to make any real connections with them. I think many of them are great people and were the reasons I stayed for the final term, but honestly I doubt we will keep in touch, and that always makes me sad about leaving a place. I know that I have probably had an effect on them, but those are things you will never really know...even when u die.
I can be goofy with the kids, and those are often my favourite moments from the day. But I feel like I am constantly under watch with them, and never quite measuring up to the standards of whoever is watching. That's probably why I love Y3 playground the most - it's just me and the kids. I can be myself 'cause I know the kids will either forget about me or love me. The adults, however, have figured out how to rip your soul in half with a mere look of disapproval, and spread that disapproval faster than wildfire through the rings of the gossip mill until every eye above five feet that you look into meets you with nothing but disrespect. And that wears on a person, especially me. I've always commanded respect when I walk into a situation, but I have found it impossible to hold here, and it's slowly eating its way through me.
As this lack of respect and lack of connection with my "peers" (although the next youngest member of staff is six years older than me, I have worked with adults long enough to consider somebody forty years my senior my peer - especially when working with kids) has punched holes in my soul, I have noticed my energy for the kids being depleted. (Sidebar: Diet has also not helped and today the possibility of anemia was mentioned. Seriously, I know England is pretty meat and potatoes but for a health school, this is ridiculous! They have vegetarian boarders here - those kids are lacking vital nutrients required for growing. That should really be taken care of.) That, above all, might be my biggest regret. There was a time when I could play with them all day, but now I only get their energy from observing their crazy antics. Once again, I have been pushed back to my childhood, watching on the sidelines as everybody with more energy appears happier than me and all I want to do is grab that joy.
I miss that crazy girl who sold make-shift contraceptive to her coworkers out of a borrowed suitcase as she limped through time. I miss that red-headed lunatic that welcomed every new employee with an "oooooooo, I love meeting new people!" I miss organizing events after huge assignments and "corrupting" my friends who could think as fast as I could, but never outdance me at the Blarney Stone. I miss the dedication it took to wait outside of that club in the rain for four hours, just to get our green beer for St. Patty's Day...and then making our own dancefloor with our pitchers in our hands. Basically, I miss being friends with my colleagues, and feeling comfortable at work. That's a sad realization with just seven weeks to go, but it's true...
I was finally able to explain why I feel so trapped here tonight. I know it will probably change by tomorrow, and definitely be different by this time next week, so I wanted to record it.
I feel like this whole entire year I've been trying to live up to some expectations of what it means to be a GAP student at Moor Park. This includes how to get on with the kids, how to interact with the staff and even sometimes how to see myself compared to all of them. And that has been the most difficult thing to do this year.
People often assume that I'm homesick or lonely, but that's not it. I have felt lonely, but some of those moments have been ones of solace and recharging. I do not like living with so many people. I wish I lived on my own, even when I have had some of the best roommates. I enjoy my own company, and cherish my privacy. There was a point when I felt that I got very little of that here.
When I tried to explain to my friend here that I have struggled to live up to these expectations all year, she misunderstood me at first. She thought that I thought the expectations were to be a cheery. happy person, when in fact that's the person I miss the most here. With the staff, often I don't fit into their humour. Nobody seems to really appreciate my "radical" ideas of vegetarianism and I have been too timid to even broach the feminist thing. We discuss the kids and my travels, but that's ever as far as it goes. So, basically, I have failed to make any real connections with them. I think many of them are great people and were the reasons I stayed for the final term, but honestly I doubt we will keep in touch, and that always makes me sad about leaving a place. I know that I have probably had an effect on them, but those are things you will never really know...even when u die.
I can be goofy with the kids, and those are often my favourite moments from the day. But I feel like I am constantly under watch with them, and never quite measuring up to the standards of whoever is watching. That's probably why I love Y3 playground the most - it's just me and the kids. I can be myself 'cause I know the kids will either forget about me or love me. The adults, however, have figured out how to rip your soul in half with a mere look of disapproval, and spread that disapproval faster than wildfire through the rings of the gossip mill until every eye above five feet that you look into meets you with nothing but disrespect. And that wears on a person, especially me. I've always commanded respect when I walk into a situation, but I have found it impossible to hold here, and it's slowly eating its way through me.
As this lack of respect and lack of connection with my "peers" (although the next youngest member of staff is six years older than me, I have worked with adults long enough to consider somebody forty years my senior my peer - especially when working with kids) has punched holes in my soul, I have noticed my energy for the kids being depleted. (Sidebar: Diet has also not helped and today the possibility of anemia was mentioned. Seriously, I know England is pretty meat and potatoes but for a health school, this is ridiculous! They have vegetarian boarders here - those kids are lacking vital nutrients required for growing. That should really be taken care of.) That, above all, might be my biggest regret. There was a time when I could play with them all day, but now I only get their energy from observing their crazy antics. Once again, I have been pushed back to my childhood, watching on the sidelines as everybody with more energy appears happier than me and all I want to do is grab that joy.
I miss that crazy girl who sold make-shift contraceptive to her coworkers out of a borrowed suitcase as she limped through time. I miss that red-headed lunatic that welcomed every new employee with an "oooooooo, I love meeting new people!" I miss organizing events after huge assignments and "corrupting" my friends who could think as fast as I could, but never outdance me at the Blarney Stone. I miss the dedication it took to wait outside of that club in the rain for four hours, just to get our green beer for St. Patty's Day...and then making our own dancefloor with our pitchers in our hands. Basically, I miss being friends with my colleagues, and feeling comfortable at work. That's a sad realization with just seven weeks to go, but it's true...
Expectations and the Experience
First published on Facebook on Tuesday, May 20, 2008 at 11:05pm
Hitching a ride into town the other night, I was asked if England had meant my expectations. I love that question, especially about England, because I went into this year without expectations. What I have gained has been an amazing experience.
That does not mean that this has been a happy year. In fact, I wrote in an email recently the realization that difficult times actually enrich an experience because you grow so much as a person. And I know that although being a "GAP student" has made me regress in my growth at times, currently I feel like I have grown. I may not know exactly what has helped me grow, but things have changed. Not always for the better as I am pretty sure my work ethic is not what it used to be, but that erosion began when I was still at Chapters, I think. As this week has proven, though, I am doing better at confrontations and forgiveness. And right now, being able to forgive and move on is really important to me, so I think that's worth the loss of my work ethic.
I was told tonight to stop analysing, but that's like telling a fish to stop swimming. It's not the analysing that gets me down, it's how I deal with my conclusions. And all along I've known that in the end, I would come to terms with them. It was the length of the path there that worried me this time. I never gave up on knowing that I would find myself again, but as I searched, I worried about the permanent damage that self would have.
As my experience in England slowly begins to end, I am still looking forward to the future. I am only looking forward because it is ahead of me, not because that allows me discard another worry from my plate. I have nearly survived the first May of my life where I did not know what I will be doing this September. I think I survived it because I had other things to think about...as well as the fact that I'm beginning to see Edmonton in the fall as another adventure, rather than a fall-back choice. I did begin to worry, though, about how my new and improved self will cope with living with my sister and some new "old friends." I was close to being the person I am today last summer, when I last lived with these friends, but I've grown past that person, and I'm scared that Looney Lane might challenge that new person, if only because of the memories of thoughts associated with it. My expectations for this summer are wobbly at best, and not as blank as the ones I had for England. I know that reliving experiences is never as good as the first time going through them, and that scares me. In my memories, I had a great time at the Village last summer, but I worry now that those memories have set my expectations too high. It will be nice to see old friends again, but still, I have changed and it's always more difficult to go back after changing than to start fresh as a new person.
In this way, I am excited for next fall because things will be familiar, but I'll also be starting something new. I have the benefit of an established support network in Edmonton as I begin anew, but living in a city once again I know that I will meet new people more often and have the time to really get to know them, something I've been missing at my present location. The kids have been great, but the staff at times is challenging and the whole Catholic thing doesn't help. But that's made me realize who I am and who I am not and now I know that it's more important to fight for who I am than to pretend I am somebody that I'm not. At this point, I don't care if that upsets anybody - especially those people who upset me willy nilly - but forgiving them for their ignorance is still difficult.
The thought stroke me this evening as I walked home that my expectations for this year were completely off-base. I know, I just wrote that I had no expectations, but having thought about being in England for five months prior to my arrival, I did have some expectations, at least regarding what I would do in my free time. I cannot describe them nor remember them exactly, but I know that part of it involved my progress on my novel. I thought that I would have more time for writing, and spend my evenings in the middle of nowhere just doing that. But, as life goes, I couldn't write on my laptop and I was too exhausted when Word was working on it that I didn't have the energy to spend on the novel. So, once again, I've put off working on my opus in favour of enjoying the moment. And have I enjoyed it? Maybe. The growth has been good, and it's helped my novel. The characters have become real, albeit if I know that they are all merely a part of myself. Their reasons for existence have changed, though, and that will only add depth to them. The kids have helped that too, by constantly asking me about the book. Tonight I realized that I need to get it done, because the message that inspired it is getting lost in the growth I am going through. I know that my message is stronger now, but the earliest one is vital to what I have to say too, and I fear that with growth, we lose beautiful things along the way.
I feel bad for not working more on my writing, but I know that that guilt will eventually pay off and make me finish it before the deadline. And that's what is more important. I had goals of finishing a rough draft this year, but I don't even have a timeline figured out. I've learned to deal with that and accept it. Like many things that are important to me, I have procrastinated on this. In the end, that is probably for the better, but it's also good to know that I have no goals for the fall...and this could be the first!
It is upsetting when our expectations fail to be met, even more so when we are as solely responsible for them as I have been regarding my novel. Perhaps that is the next lesson learned, albeit it has to be pounded down my throat sometimes. All along, though, I've been ok with putting off my own happiness for this growth. Getting this done, now, though, has no more excuses. So, the next experience I expect to complete is my novel. Let's hope it gets done.
Hitching a ride into town the other night, I was asked if England had meant my expectations. I love that question, especially about England, because I went into this year without expectations. What I have gained has been an amazing experience.
That does not mean that this has been a happy year. In fact, I wrote in an email recently the realization that difficult times actually enrich an experience because you grow so much as a person. And I know that although being a "GAP student" has made me regress in my growth at times, currently I feel like I have grown. I may not know exactly what has helped me grow, but things have changed. Not always for the better as I am pretty sure my work ethic is not what it used to be, but that erosion began when I was still at Chapters, I think. As this week has proven, though, I am doing better at confrontations and forgiveness. And right now, being able to forgive and move on is really important to me, so I think that's worth the loss of my work ethic.
I was told tonight to stop analysing, but that's like telling a fish to stop swimming. It's not the analysing that gets me down, it's how I deal with my conclusions. And all along I've known that in the end, I would come to terms with them. It was the length of the path there that worried me this time. I never gave up on knowing that I would find myself again, but as I searched, I worried about the permanent damage that self would have.
As my experience in England slowly begins to end, I am still looking forward to the future. I am only looking forward because it is ahead of me, not because that allows me discard another worry from my plate. I have nearly survived the first May of my life where I did not know what I will be doing this September. I think I survived it because I had other things to think about...as well as the fact that I'm beginning to see Edmonton in the fall as another adventure, rather than a fall-back choice. I did begin to worry, though, about how my new and improved self will cope with living with my sister and some new "old friends." I was close to being the person I am today last summer, when I last lived with these friends, but I've grown past that person, and I'm scared that Looney Lane might challenge that new person, if only because of the memories of thoughts associated with it. My expectations for this summer are wobbly at best, and not as blank as the ones I had for England. I know that reliving experiences is never as good as the first time going through them, and that scares me. In my memories, I had a great time at the Village last summer, but I worry now that those memories have set my expectations too high. It will be nice to see old friends again, but still, I have changed and it's always more difficult to go back after changing than to start fresh as a new person.
In this way, I am excited for next fall because things will be familiar, but I'll also be starting something new. I have the benefit of an established support network in Edmonton as I begin anew, but living in a city once again I know that I will meet new people more often and have the time to really get to know them, something I've been missing at my present location. The kids have been great, but the staff at times is challenging and the whole Catholic thing doesn't help. But that's made me realize who I am and who I am not and now I know that it's more important to fight for who I am than to pretend I am somebody that I'm not. At this point, I don't care if that upsets anybody - especially those people who upset me willy nilly - but forgiving them for their ignorance is still difficult.
The thought stroke me this evening as I walked home that my expectations for this year were completely off-base. I know, I just wrote that I had no expectations, but having thought about being in England for five months prior to my arrival, I did have some expectations, at least regarding what I would do in my free time. I cannot describe them nor remember them exactly, but I know that part of it involved my progress on my novel. I thought that I would have more time for writing, and spend my evenings in the middle of nowhere just doing that. But, as life goes, I couldn't write on my laptop and I was too exhausted when Word was working on it that I didn't have the energy to spend on the novel. So, once again, I've put off working on my opus in favour of enjoying the moment. And have I enjoyed it? Maybe. The growth has been good, and it's helped my novel. The characters have become real, albeit if I know that they are all merely a part of myself. Their reasons for existence have changed, though, and that will only add depth to them. The kids have helped that too, by constantly asking me about the book. Tonight I realized that I need to get it done, because the message that inspired it is getting lost in the growth I am going through. I know that my message is stronger now, but the earliest one is vital to what I have to say too, and I fear that with growth, we lose beautiful things along the way.
I feel bad for not working more on my writing, but I know that that guilt will eventually pay off and make me finish it before the deadline. And that's what is more important. I had goals of finishing a rough draft this year, but I don't even have a timeline figured out. I've learned to deal with that and accept it. Like many things that are important to me, I have procrastinated on this. In the end, that is probably for the better, but it's also good to know that I have no goals for the fall...and this could be the first!
It is upsetting when our expectations fail to be met, even more so when we are as solely responsible for them as I have been regarding my novel. Perhaps that is the next lesson learned, albeit it has to be pounded down my throat sometimes. All along, though, I've been ok with putting off my own happiness for this growth. Getting this done, now, though, has no more excuses. So, the next experience I expect to complete is my novel. Let's hope it gets done.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
