I'm not a Catholic, St. Val,
but just this once, sir, be a pal
and send me someone kind and smart
to love me with a faithful heart.
So . . . I have a bunch of articles in drafts. Sometimes I start writing an article and get too philosophical or personal and bury myself in a hole, going nowhere, if vigorously so. The next day (or the next week . . . or the next month) I can come back and the thoughts have settled into something cogent that I pour into another article altogether. Meanwhile, the original sits in drafts, and like the packrat I am, I can't delete it. I had the same problem with scrapbooking: when I was done cutting out paper shapes and working out a page, I'd look at the scraps left behind and see graceful little curves or bold points and want to do something with them—nothing special enough for the perfect pages of a scrapbook; just a little fun. After awhile I found that playing with the scraps could be more fun than making a scrapbook.
I still see potential in small, throw-away things. I make miniature books and cootie-catchers out of post-it notes and accordions out of tape. I make little desks and chairs from candy wrappers during long meetings. And yes, if I sit at a table long enough after a meal with my plate in front of me, I'll start arranging the remnants of my food artistically. With a styrofoam cup and some aluminum foil, I can entertain the whole table (or at least earn a "quit being a goofball" swat from my brother).
In the end, I throw away most of these little garbage spectacles, but sometimes I hang onto the best ones. So I figure I'll do something in the same vein with these drafts—pick out the little gems and purge the dross. The stanza above is the best of a few lines I put together around Valentine's Day a year ago. I liked the poem I worked out later much better, but this stanza was snappy enough to keep me from deleting the draft for a year.
Stay posted for more little gems from drafts to come.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Oh Valentine's Day
I'm the one that writes my own story,
I decide the person I'll be.
What goes in the plot and what does not
Is pretty much up to me.
Carol Lynn Pearson & Lex de Azevedo, "My Story"
Last Valentine's Day I was sitting in a big old van with a bunch of my friends, driving home from a really fun overnight horseback riding/camping excursion. I had spent some time carefully flirting with the guy I really liked, who was now sitting on the same bench with me in the van. "We should all do something tonight," he said. "We've got a ton of food leftover. We could all go to my place or something and watch a movie."
There was a round of non-committal comments about taking showers and maybe meeting later. I added a "Yeah, that would be fun." But nobody really spoke in any affirmatives, and this guy didn't cement it as an actual plan. My hopes of spending more time with him dwindled as the silence in the van lengthened.
When we parked the van and started unloading our stuff into our separate cars, I heard another girl in the group talking to Mr. Noncommittal. "You can still do something, it's not that late. It's Valentine's Day. You don't have to be alone." He didn't reply, and I dawdled purposefully in my unloading, just in case he was trying to decide whether he should invite me over.
He got into his car and drove off.
Today we had our monthly ward potluck, and I was talking to a bunch of people in a group when one of them, a new guy that I've spent a little flirt on, brought up Valentine's Day plans. "It's probably going to be another SAD year for me," he said, chuckling.
"You know, it doesn't have to be," said a girl in our group. "You could actually ask someone on a date."
"Really?" said the guy in mock-shock.
"Yep," said the girl. "It's rare, but it happens."
He made a couple more pretending-to-be-shocked comments, but he didn't stick around much longer after the subject changed.
This Valentine's Day, I'm going to stay home and watch the Olympics.
I decide the person I'll be.
What goes in the plot and what does not
Is pretty much up to me.
Carol Lynn Pearson & Lex de Azevedo, "My Story"
Last Valentine's Day I was sitting in a big old van with a bunch of my friends, driving home from a really fun overnight horseback riding/camping excursion. I had spent some time carefully flirting with the guy I really liked, who was now sitting on the same bench with me in the van. "We should all do something tonight," he said. "We've got a ton of food leftover. We could all go to my place or something and watch a movie."
There was a round of non-committal comments about taking showers and maybe meeting later. I added a "Yeah, that would be fun." But nobody really spoke in any affirmatives, and this guy didn't cement it as an actual plan. My hopes of spending more time with him dwindled as the silence in the van lengthened.
When we parked the van and started unloading our stuff into our separate cars, I heard another girl in the group talking to Mr. Noncommittal. "You can still do something, it's not that late. It's Valentine's Day. You don't have to be alone." He didn't reply, and I dawdled purposefully in my unloading, just in case he was trying to decide whether he should invite me over.
He got into his car and drove off.
Today we had our monthly ward potluck, and I was talking to a bunch of people in a group when one of them, a new guy that I've spent a little flirt on, brought up Valentine's Day plans. "It's probably going to be another SAD year for me," he said, chuckling.
"You know, it doesn't have to be," said a girl in our group. "You could actually ask someone on a date."
"Really?" said the guy in mock-shock.
"Yep," said the girl. "It's rare, but it happens."
He made a couple more pretending-to-be-shocked comments, but he didn't stick around much longer after the subject changed.
This Valentine's Day, I'm going to stay home and watch the Olympics.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
On Getting Over Yourself
Do I attract you?
Do I repulse you with my queasy smile?
Am I too dirty?
Am I too flirty?
Do I like what you like?
I could be wholesome
I could be loathsome
I guess I'm a little bit shy
Why don't you like me?
Why don't you like me without making me try?
Mika, "Grace Kelley"
Sometime in my childhood, the catchphrase "low self-esteem" came to me and stuck. Lo and behold, I had come down with my generation's most popular social disease. Like H1N1, it is really just a new mutation of a very, very old ailment, but this particular strain has a different treatment plan than previous versions. Judged as too insidious for the afflicted one to attempt to fight, Low Self-Esteem becomes the responsibility of teachers, parents, friends, and lots and lots of therapists to cure. These individuals are responsible for making the lifestyle and behavioral changes necessary to keep the sick person's fragile ego at a sustainable level of inflation. Those who have caught Low Self-Esteem, since they are helpless against its ravages, are immediately excused for negative or antisocial behavior that is not acceptable in the healthy.
Somehow, in spite of the rigorous treatment involved, Low Self-Esteem is spreading and continues to be extremely contagious. Child psychologists everywhere are mystified. I struggled with Low Self-Esteem for many years, and to my profound regret I discovered that it was much more like an addiction than a disease. A new name does not mask what this old ailment really is—selfishness and pride, warped into self-pity—nor does the treatment, in excusing the victim, address the problem and cure it.
I wouldn't call myself cured of self-pity, but I've learned a few things that I'd like to share with my fellow sufferers. I'm going to be direct, because I think a splash of water to the face is a more effective wake-up call than a soothing lullabye, but I do sympathize with the real pain involved in the vicious cycle that is self-pity. In order to be rid of it, though, we need to recognize this mind trap for what it is.
Three truths to shake the self-pity out of you:
1. Everyone feels friendless and lonely from time to time. Everyone, no matter how happy or socially accepted they may appear to you.
I have talked to so many people who have expressed feelings of friendlessness, and sometimes even now I'm incredulous at who these words come from. What this means is that this is an extremely common feeling. It's kinda nice to know that you're not the only one who feels this way, isn't it? But it also means that you are not different from anyone else—so you are not entitled to special care or consideration because you feel that way. This leads me to my next point:
2. You can't expect what you're not prepared to offer.
When I was an angsty young teen, we had these monthly church dances, and for at least the first couple years I was old enough to attend, I hated them. I often felt left out of the various cliques, and it hurt when guys didn't ask me to dance for slow songs. I spent a lot of time sitting in a dark corner, sharing pessimistic comments with my best friend or hiding in the bathroom, wiping my eyes with toilet paper, hoping that someone would notice I'd left the dance floor and come find me. It took me a long time to stop thinking of these years as my tragic past and realize how incredibly selfish I'd been.
Sure, I would have loved it if a caring person had sought me out and led me back to the dance over my token protestations, and it would have been very kind of someone to do so. But if I had been included in a group and was having fun dancing, would I have noticed if someone slipped out? Would I have gone to see if they were okay and help them feel better? Not on your life. So I wasn't willing to think about anyone else, but I expected everyone else to think about me, and I was offended when they obviously didn't.
Nowadays, whenever I start feeling that old "left-out" feeling, I ask myself what exactly I'm expecting from the people around me. Are these reasonable expectations? Am I honestly prepared to do the same thing back? If not, I have no right whatsoever to feel offended, because the people around me are no lazier, socially, than I am.
3. Most of the time, you are thinking about you more than anyone else is, because they are likewise mostly thinking about themselves.
We can't really help it, most of the time; it's a natural thing. It takes effort to think about someone else, and most of us are pretty lazy. Look inside yourself and you know it's true for you—believe that other people are like you. One of the perks of really understanding this is that it helps you brush off a multitude of events that would otherwise embarrass you. Think about it. How many times have you done something really embarrassing and looked around like you were sure everyone on the planet saw? Most of the time, people don't, because they're walking around thinking about themselves, not you. It's someone who acts embarrassed and makes a big scene that draws people's attention.
The same applies for things that would otherwise offend you. Most of the time when people make foolish, thoughtless, or tactless comments, they aren't thinking about you, they are thinking about themselves—something that is bothering them, whether it's a person, event, or just their desire to be socially accepted. So really, the comment isn't based on you at all. It becomes pointless and merely a mirror to that person's insecurities, just like your offended reaction would be a mirror to yours. How can what someone says affect you if it has nothing to do with you? People are not on a quest to hurt your feelings. They're on their own quest, just as you are, to live life and find happiness for themselves. They are more like you than you think.
Three ways to move forward and combat depressive feelings:
1. Take responsibility for your feelings and actions.
I think everyone has times when they're too tired, hurt, nervous, or just plain lazy to get out of their own heads to focus on the people around them. If you can motivate yourself to get over these feelings and reach out, that's great. If you can't, you need to at least recognize that so you can make decisions based on your state of mind, not on how you perceive others' actions (reactions, really) towards you. So basically, your responsible choices are as follows: (1) get over yourself and think about others; (2) stay in your own head but at least don't get offended that nobody cozies up to you, because you know it's your problem, not theirs; or (3) remove yourself from the situation, because you're not doing anyone any good. I'm not saying these are all the best decisions, because obviously the first one is optimal, but I think that these are all better options than playing the victim and blaming your actions on others. Recognizing your weaknesses puts you in charge of dealing with them through conscious decisions—and that's empowering.
2. Accept friendship when it's offered and be grateful.
One Sunday at church I noticed that a friend of mine looked rather sad, so I made a mental note to talk to her before the end of church to see if she was alright. She slipped out right after our last meeting ended, but I hurried after her to ask her what was wrong and if there was anything I could do. I gave her a hug when she started getting teary-eyed, and she told me what was bothering her: she had no friends.
Uhhh . . . excuse me? No friends? Who was I? With one statement, my offering of friendship was completely wiped off the board—rejected. Ironically, she refused to accept the very thing her heart desired, and she herself was the callousness she saw in everyone else.
I wasn't offended. I knew that at the heart of it, what she really meant (as most people do who say this), was that things were going badly with one or two particular people. Still, for the sake of those people, she was prepared to reject everyone else. The bottom line is, there are a lot of nice people in the world, and if you've been walking around with "I have no friends" on your lips, you've probably hurt at least one of them. Someone has probably smiled at you or been kind to you—maybe even someone like that under-appreciated woman, your mom—and you didn't give a crap. You should find this person, thank him or her, and try being a friend back.
3. Have faith.
Meaning, have faith that you can be a good, interesting, funny, worthwhile person without constantly thinking about yourself. "You" come naturally; you don't have to think about being you to be you. It's crazy, really, how hard it is for us to believe this, but please try. On top of that, the more time you spend thinking about others instead of yourself, the better person you become. You love other people more, and other people love you. Being your best self is as easy as forgetting about yourself. Believe it.
*
These things took me years to learn at the right times and places in my life, so I don't expect them to sink in for everybody all at once. But perhaps for someone out there, this comes at a time when you're ready to take an honest look at your heart and make a change. It's not too much to ask to be happy in this life, but you've got to look for it in the right places. Look inside yourself for the strength to become the wonderful person you've always wanted to be, to make the changes necessary to get there. Most importantly, let your loving, forgiving Heavenly Father and all the people on this earth who love you be your guides and helps along the way. I'm pulling for you, too!
Do I repulse you with my queasy smile?
Am I too dirty?
Am I too flirty?
Do I like what you like?
I could be wholesome
I could be loathsome
I guess I'm a little bit shy
Why don't you like me?
Why don't you like me without making me try?
Mika, "Grace Kelley"
Sometime in my childhood, the catchphrase "low self-esteem" came to me and stuck. Lo and behold, I had come down with my generation's most popular social disease. Like H1N1, it is really just a new mutation of a very, very old ailment, but this particular strain has a different treatment plan than previous versions. Judged as too insidious for the afflicted one to attempt to fight, Low Self-Esteem becomes the responsibility of teachers, parents, friends, and lots and lots of therapists to cure. These individuals are responsible for making the lifestyle and behavioral changes necessary to keep the sick person's fragile ego at a sustainable level of inflation. Those who have caught Low Self-Esteem, since they are helpless against its ravages, are immediately excused for negative or antisocial behavior that is not acceptable in the healthy.
Somehow, in spite of the rigorous treatment involved, Low Self-Esteem is spreading and continues to be extremely contagious. Child psychologists everywhere are mystified. I struggled with Low Self-Esteem for many years, and to my profound regret I discovered that it was much more like an addiction than a disease. A new name does not mask what this old ailment really is—selfishness and pride, warped into self-pity—nor does the treatment, in excusing the victim, address the problem and cure it.
I wouldn't call myself cured of self-pity, but I've learned a few things that I'd like to share with my fellow sufferers. I'm going to be direct, because I think a splash of water to the face is a more effective wake-up call than a soothing lullabye, but I do sympathize with the real pain involved in the vicious cycle that is self-pity. In order to be rid of it, though, we need to recognize this mind trap for what it is.
Three truths to shake the self-pity out of you:
1. Everyone feels friendless and lonely from time to time. Everyone, no matter how happy or socially accepted they may appear to you.
I have talked to so many people who have expressed feelings of friendlessness, and sometimes even now I'm incredulous at who these words come from. What this means is that this is an extremely common feeling. It's kinda nice to know that you're not the only one who feels this way, isn't it? But it also means that you are not different from anyone else—so you are not entitled to special care or consideration because you feel that way. This leads me to my next point:
2. You can't expect what you're not prepared to offer.
When I was an angsty young teen, we had these monthly church dances, and for at least the first couple years I was old enough to attend, I hated them. I often felt left out of the various cliques, and it hurt when guys didn't ask me to dance for slow songs. I spent a lot of time sitting in a dark corner, sharing pessimistic comments with my best friend or hiding in the bathroom, wiping my eyes with toilet paper, hoping that someone would notice I'd left the dance floor and come find me. It took me a long time to stop thinking of these years as my tragic past and realize how incredibly selfish I'd been.
Sure, I would have loved it if a caring person had sought me out and led me back to the dance over my token protestations, and it would have been very kind of someone to do so. But if I had been included in a group and was having fun dancing, would I have noticed if someone slipped out? Would I have gone to see if they were okay and help them feel better? Not on your life. So I wasn't willing to think about anyone else, but I expected everyone else to think about me, and I was offended when they obviously didn't.
Nowadays, whenever I start feeling that old "left-out" feeling, I ask myself what exactly I'm expecting from the people around me. Are these reasonable expectations? Am I honestly prepared to do the same thing back? If not, I have no right whatsoever to feel offended, because the people around me are no lazier, socially, than I am.
3. Most of the time, you are thinking about you more than anyone else is, because they are likewise mostly thinking about themselves.
We can't really help it, most of the time; it's a natural thing. It takes effort to think about someone else, and most of us are pretty lazy. Look inside yourself and you know it's true for you—believe that other people are like you. One of the perks of really understanding this is that it helps you brush off a multitude of events that would otherwise embarrass you. Think about it. How many times have you done something really embarrassing and looked around like you were sure everyone on the planet saw? Most of the time, people don't, because they're walking around thinking about themselves, not you. It's someone who acts embarrassed and makes a big scene that draws people's attention.
The same applies for things that would otherwise offend you. Most of the time when people make foolish, thoughtless, or tactless comments, they aren't thinking about you, they are thinking about themselves—something that is bothering them, whether it's a person, event, or just their desire to be socially accepted. So really, the comment isn't based on you at all. It becomes pointless and merely a mirror to that person's insecurities, just like your offended reaction would be a mirror to yours. How can what someone says affect you if it has nothing to do with you? People are not on a quest to hurt your feelings. They're on their own quest, just as you are, to live life and find happiness for themselves. They are more like you than you think.
Three ways to move forward and combat depressive feelings:
1. Take responsibility for your feelings and actions.
I think everyone has times when they're too tired, hurt, nervous, or just plain lazy to get out of their own heads to focus on the people around them. If you can motivate yourself to get over these feelings and reach out, that's great. If you can't, you need to at least recognize that so you can make decisions based on your state of mind, not on how you perceive others' actions (reactions, really) towards you. So basically, your responsible choices are as follows: (1) get over yourself and think about others; (2) stay in your own head but at least don't get offended that nobody cozies up to you, because you know it's your problem, not theirs; or (3) remove yourself from the situation, because you're not doing anyone any good. I'm not saying these are all the best decisions, because obviously the first one is optimal, but I think that these are all better options than playing the victim and blaming your actions on others. Recognizing your weaknesses puts you in charge of dealing with them through conscious decisions—and that's empowering.
2. Accept friendship when it's offered and be grateful.
One Sunday at church I noticed that a friend of mine looked rather sad, so I made a mental note to talk to her before the end of church to see if she was alright. She slipped out right after our last meeting ended, but I hurried after her to ask her what was wrong and if there was anything I could do. I gave her a hug when she started getting teary-eyed, and she told me what was bothering her: she had no friends.
Uhhh . . . excuse me? No friends? Who was I? With one statement, my offering of friendship was completely wiped off the board—rejected. Ironically, she refused to accept the very thing her heart desired, and she herself was the callousness she saw in everyone else.
I wasn't offended. I knew that at the heart of it, what she really meant (as most people do who say this), was that things were going badly with one or two particular people. Still, for the sake of those people, she was prepared to reject everyone else. The bottom line is, there are a lot of nice people in the world, and if you've been walking around with "I have no friends" on your lips, you've probably hurt at least one of them. Someone has probably smiled at you or been kind to you—maybe even someone like that under-appreciated woman, your mom—and you didn't give a crap. You should find this person, thank him or her, and try being a friend back.
3. Have faith.
Meaning, have faith that you can be a good, interesting, funny, worthwhile person without constantly thinking about yourself. "You" come naturally; you don't have to think about being you to be you. It's crazy, really, how hard it is for us to believe this, but please try. On top of that, the more time you spend thinking about others instead of yourself, the better person you become. You love other people more, and other people love you. Being your best self is as easy as forgetting about yourself. Believe it.
*
These things took me years to learn at the right times and places in my life, so I don't expect them to sink in for everybody all at once. But perhaps for someone out there, this comes at a time when you're ready to take an honest look at your heart and make a change. It's not too much to ask to be happy in this life, but you've got to look for it in the right places. Look inside yourself for the strength to become the wonderful person you've always wanted to be, to make the changes necessary to get there. Most importantly, let your loving, forgiving Heavenly Father and all the people on this earth who love you be your guides and helps along the way. I'm pulling for you, too!
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