It's been quite a week. I don't know the last time I felt so content, so happy with life. I feel very hopeful for the first time in a while.
Watching Obama sworn in as President of the United States was wonderful. I have a lot of issues with Obama; I disagree with him on many things; I want him to take a true stand on Women's rights, gay rights and more. But on Tuesday, I set those all aside and reveled in the fact that a black man became the President. That the highest position in our nation is held by a person of color. And listening to his speech, I felt hopeful. I felt like, maybe, finally, we can turn around some of the things that happened over the last 8 years.
Then Clinton was sworn in as Secretary of State and my optimism grew. To hear someone in one of the most important positions in our nation address women and girls and their rights in her first speech as SOS, it felt amazing . It blew my mind and continues to:
We cannot have a free, prosperous, peaceful, progressive world if women are treated in such a discriminatory and violent way. … We're going to have a very active women's office, a very active office on trafficking; we're going to be speaking out consistently and strongly against discrimination and oppression of women.
And at least thus far, this president and his cabinet aren't just talk. Persecution at Gitmo is being halted for at least 120 days. Obama repealed the Global Gag rule. Clinics and foundations around the world are once again able to receive aid from the good ole USA, even if they support a woman's right to choose.
I felt, I feel, proud to be an American.
I am grateful for the changes that are coming our way on the larger scale and I am grateful for the changes and consistencies on the smaller scale.
I had a moment of pure contentment on Tuesday night as A, S, and I sat on our couch, watching TV, chatting, laughing. I don't remember now any of what we talked about or what was so funny, but the moment was so great that I took pause right then and thought, "This is my life. And it's good." It was just another night, like so many others over the past months, but it felt so right. I am where I am supposed to be.
Life, right now, is wonderful.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Perfection.
I had my first knitting lesson today. My roommate A offered to teach me how to knit as a Christmas gift. I've always thought about learning, but knowing myself, knew I both lacked patience and craved "perfection" a bit too much.
It didn't take me long to learn the movements of casting on and knitting, but I kept pulling the yarn too tight, making the next step a bit too difficult for my novice fingers. A. offered to help, offered to do the casting on so that I could practice the knitting aspect, she gave me larger needles and larger yarn so it would be easier. I practiced with the larger yarn/needles for a bit and then became determined that I should be able to master the task with the smaller yarn/needle. I kept working at it, undoing, redoing, undoing, redoing because I needed it to be right. I needed to get it right in that one sitting or...
Or what? I know and believe to the depth of my being that there is no such thing as perfection. That everyone can always get better at whatever it is. That being perfect would probably be pretty damn boring if it was possible. That people who are "perfect" at something are under constant pressure to never lose that ability. That I should be striving for experience and knowledge and growth- not perfection.
Yet, I sat there and kept doing it over and over until my shoulder hurt and I had to stop. One of my mom's favorite stories to tell is one night when I was in eighth grade and I couldn't understand my geometry homework. For whatever reason, the concepts weren't making sense to me and I absolutely, positively had to understand or I would die? I wouldn't be ok? I'd never accomplish anything in my entire life? I sat crying at the kitchen table begging my mom to try and explain it to me again. At 10:30pm she refused to help me anymore, tried (again) to convince me that everything would be ok if I didn't understand geometry and that maybe if I slept, I'd understand the next day. I threw a total fit. She didn't get it! I absolutely had to understand!
I laugh about it now; it's seriously ridiculous. About as ridiculous as my inability to let A. help me with knitting, the inability to write the second sentence of a paper until the first sentence is perfect, my willingness to give up writing poetry because it's not as great as it used to be, the way I write and then rewrite to-do lists if the first one doesn't look good enough- regardless of the fact that I'll just cross it off anyway.
My life has always been this way. I grew up in a world where our house had to sparkling clean or my mom would go crazy (she used to vacuum three times a day). I grew up telling myself that I had to be the best at all the things I could be the best at, that if I couldn't be skinny or pretty or popular, then I sure as hell would be smart and get great grades and be involved in xyz and be really good at xyz as well. I grew up painting myself into what I thought I had to be.
I don't want to be that person anymore. I've definitely gotten better at letting go a bit of that chase for perfection since graduating college. But I need to let go even more. I need (I want) to change the way I think about what's good "enough," about why I do the things I do (like knitting) and if the goal is really for it to be perfect at the end or if it's to enjoy the experience itself. I want to get back to writing- to be willing to write crap for awhile until I practice my way back to where I was.
I want to teach myself how to sit with the anxiety I feel when I don't do things "perfectly." Teach myself to set aside the knitting needles, with the messed up stitches or too tight casting, and to come back to it later if I still want to. To sit with the intense level of anxiety I feel coursing through my body because it just isn't right! I want to remind myself that I'm not going to die if I don't redo it right away (or ever), that it doesn't say anything about who I am as a person or that I'll never be able to knit.
I want life to be about more than trying to achieve something that is not only attainable, but also undesirable.
It didn't take me long to learn the movements of casting on and knitting, but I kept pulling the yarn too tight, making the next step a bit too difficult for my novice fingers. A. offered to help, offered to do the casting on so that I could practice the knitting aspect, she gave me larger needles and larger yarn so it would be easier. I practiced with the larger yarn/needles for a bit and then became determined that I should be able to master the task with the smaller yarn/needle. I kept working at it, undoing, redoing, undoing, redoing because I needed it to be right. I needed to get it right in that one sitting or...
Or what? I know and believe to the depth of my being that there is no such thing as perfection. That everyone can always get better at whatever it is. That being perfect would probably be pretty damn boring if it was possible. That people who are "perfect" at something are under constant pressure to never lose that ability. That I should be striving for experience and knowledge and growth- not perfection.
Yet, I sat there and kept doing it over and over until my shoulder hurt and I had to stop. One of my mom's favorite stories to tell is one night when I was in eighth grade and I couldn't understand my geometry homework. For whatever reason, the concepts weren't making sense to me and I absolutely, positively had to understand or I would die? I wouldn't be ok? I'd never accomplish anything in my entire life? I sat crying at the kitchen table begging my mom to try and explain it to me again. At 10:30pm she refused to help me anymore, tried (again) to convince me that everything would be ok if I didn't understand geometry and that maybe if I slept, I'd understand the next day. I threw a total fit. She didn't get it! I absolutely had to understand!
I laugh about it now; it's seriously ridiculous. About as ridiculous as my inability to let A. help me with knitting, the inability to write the second sentence of a paper until the first sentence is perfect, my willingness to give up writing poetry because it's not as great as it used to be, the way I write and then rewrite to-do lists if the first one doesn't look good enough- regardless of the fact that I'll just cross it off anyway.
My life has always been this way. I grew up in a world where our house had to sparkling clean or my mom would go crazy (she used to vacuum three times a day). I grew up telling myself that I had to be the best at all the things I could be the best at, that if I couldn't be skinny or pretty or popular, then I sure as hell would be smart and get great grades and be involved in xyz and be really good at xyz as well. I grew up painting myself into what I thought I had to be.
I don't want to be that person anymore. I've definitely gotten better at letting go a bit of that chase for perfection since graduating college. But I need to let go even more. I need (I want) to change the way I think about what's good "enough," about why I do the things I do (like knitting) and if the goal is really for it to be perfect at the end or if it's to enjoy the experience itself. I want to get back to writing- to be willing to write crap for awhile until I practice my way back to where I was.
I want to teach myself how to sit with the anxiety I feel when I don't do things "perfectly." Teach myself to set aside the knitting needles, with the messed up stitches or too tight casting, and to come back to it later if I still want to. To sit with the intense level of anxiety I feel coursing through my body because it just isn't right! I want to remind myself that I'm not going to die if I don't redo it right away (or ever), that it doesn't say anything about who I am as a person or that I'll never be able to knit.
I want life to be about more than trying to achieve something that is not only attainable, but also undesirable.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Because I Need To Remember
February 2nd, 2006
Dearest Self,
When you're reading this, it means it's between August and September and you're getting ready for senior year. How is that possible? When did you get so old?
Thailand has been an experience beyond what you thought possible. GO BACK! It's hard to believe study abroad is over and you're on your way back home. Study abroad was a dream for so long that it feels impossible it's over. But it is.
Remember the courage it took to come here and that you have it in you still. Everything difficult eventually becomes easier. In Mae Hong Son, you realized how quickly the unknown becomes known. How it seemed impossible to learn Thai, to exist here, but then you did. The different food and language, the new culture, the scary unknown- it became normal.
Don't fear life after "K." Think of it as a study abroad- a journey to a new culture. You will make friends. Have the strength to do what you want, what feels right- even if it means going off on your own. You went to Thailand without friends and you made 12 wonderful friends.
Keep your passion for children and the desire to be an advocate. Remember what you've seen here, the lives you've shared, but don't feel sad. Try not to think about them as people you'll never see again, but as people whom you loved and who loved you, who shaped an experience that was wonderful. Remember P'Jay, P' On, P'Bu, P'Poo, Ajaan Linda, Ajaan Dave, Nat, Pak, Maa, Paw, Yeigh, P'Annie, Ajaan Jon, Ajaan Araya, Ajaan Chu, Ajaan Mark, P'ToTo, The "Bumster" P'Kim, P'Ben, Som, May, Maew, Anne, Fon, Mai, P'Wasan, Jim, Juum, Jang and their parents.
Remembering them will keep them alive. It will keep this experience alive.
Remember crying on the climb on Leader Day in MHS because you felt too weak to be a leader and too proud to share the weight. You didn't want to be weak. But you made it. It was emotionally hard and you did it anyway. Think about how you're willing to speak up, to speak out about your thoughts and feelings. Remember Andrew being mad at you because he thought you were trying to make him look bad. It took awhile to remember that you were being real and speaking the truth, even if it cost you friendships for awhile. You stood your ground.
Remember making out with P'Bat and what an uproar it was. Making out with sweet Es at the club and his reassurance that he wasn't just trying to sleep with you (even though that's what you wanted). He called numerous times and you were a baby, afraid you were too fat or that he couldn't possibly like you because he was hot. But he did. Don't let negative thoughts ruin the good things that can be.
Remember your friendship with P'Kim. When feeling hurt by the group, the two of you became friends. The cliche saying: "When one door closes, another opens" is true. She entered your life and became a wonderful part of it.
Remember Nat and Pak holding your hands while you slept before leaving on courses- they love you. You finally got to be a big sister.
You've grown Megan. When it feels like you're the same- you aren't. It's impossible to even begin to figure out how much you have learned and changed. You're nicer. At present, you're at peace.
You're going home.
At this point, have you created a new home? Do you remember the early thought that home is within yourself?
You'll always be changing. Hope it stays that way.
"And I'm homesick 'cuz I don't even know, where home is." Kings of Convenience
But you do- it's inside. And now you have more homes, more families than ever before.
You're ok Meg. You always will be.
XO
Dearest Self,
When you're reading this, it means it's between August and September and you're getting ready for senior year. How is that possible? When did you get so old?
Thailand has been an experience beyond what you thought possible. GO BACK! It's hard to believe study abroad is over and you're on your way back home. Study abroad was a dream for so long that it feels impossible it's over. But it is.
Remember the courage it took to come here and that you have it in you still. Everything difficult eventually becomes easier. In Mae Hong Son, you realized how quickly the unknown becomes known. How it seemed impossible to learn Thai, to exist here, but then you did. The different food and language, the new culture, the scary unknown- it became normal.
Don't fear life after "K." Think of it as a study abroad- a journey to a new culture. You will make friends. Have the strength to do what you want, what feels right- even if it means going off on your own. You went to Thailand without friends and you made 12 wonderful friends.
Keep your passion for children and the desire to be an advocate. Remember what you've seen here, the lives you've shared, but don't feel sad. Try not to think about them as people you'll never see again, but as people whom you loved and who loved you, who shaped an experience that was wonderful. Remember P'Jay, P' On, P'Bu, P'Poo, Ajaan Linda, Ajaan Dave, Nat, Pak, Maa, Paw, Yeigh, P'Annie, Ajaan Jon, Ajaan Araya, Ajaan Chu, Ajaan Mark, P'ToTo, The "Bumster" P'Kim, P'Ben, Som, May, Maew, Anne, Fon, Mai, P'Wasan, Jim, Juum, Jang and their parents.
Remembering them will keep them alive. It will keep this experience alive.
Remember crying on the climb on Leader Day in MHS because you felt too weak to be a leader and too proud to share the weight. You didn't want to be weak. But you made it. It was emotionally hard and you did it anyway. Think about how you're willing to speak up, to speak out about your thoughts and feelings. Remember Andrew being mad at you because he thought you were trying to make him look bad. It took awhile to remember that you were being real and speaking the truth, even if it cost you friendships for awhile. You stood your ground.
Remember making out with P'Bat and what an uproar it was. Making out with sweet Es at the club and his reassurance that he wasn't just trying to sleep with you (even though that's what you wanted). He called numerous times and you were a baby, afraid you were too fat or that he couldn't possibly like you because he was hot. But he did. Don't let negative thoughts ruin the good things that can be.
Remember your friendship with P'Kim. When feeling hurt by the group, the two of you became friends. The cliche saying: "When one door closes, another opens" is true. She entered your life and became a wonderful part of it.
Remember Nat and Pak holding your hands while you slept before leaving on courses- they love you. You finally got to be a big sister.
You've grown Megan. When it feels like you're the same- you aren't. It's impossible to even begin to figure out how much you have learned and changed. You're nicer. At present, you're at peace.
You're going home.
At this point, have you created a new home? Do you remember the early thought that home is within yourself?
You'll always be changing. Hope it stays that way.
"And I'm homesick 'cuz I don't even know, where home is." Kings of Convenience
But you do- it's inside. And now you have more homes, more families than ever before.
You're ok Meg. You always will be.
XO
Another "First"
I start my first "adult" job tomorrow. My first job with good pay, nice benefits, 8:30-5:00pm schedule, traveling for work. My first job in downtown Chicago, with lots of coworkers, for a respected corporation. What feels like my first "real" job as an adult.
And I'm nervous as hell. First day back to school nervous. First time abroad nervous. First day of college nervous. First date nervous. First time living within another culture nervous. First vacation by myself nervous. First apartment with people I don't know nervous. First day in a new city by myself nervous.
I used to get so nervous the night before school would start. Even in college. Even after I had been doing the same thing year after year for 17 years- my stomach would still feel wobbly, my mind would race a million miles an hour, anxiety coursed my veins. I'm there again right now- reliving the fears of all those firsts in conjunction with this next first.
I'm finding that it makes me feel alive. That it makes me happy that things are still exciting enough to get nervous about. The hope of what this next step could bring. The memories of what putting myself out there in the past has brought. The knowledge that hard work and fate have brought me to this very point in my life.
And I'm nervous as hell. First day back to school nervous. First time abroad nervous. First day of college nervous. First date nervous. First time living within another culture nervous. First vacation by myself nervous. First apartment with people I don't know nervous. First day in a new city by myself nervous.
I used to get so nervous the night before school would start. Even in college. Even after I had been doing the same thing year after year for 17 years- my stomach would still feel wobbly, my mind would race a million miles an hour, anxiety coursed my veins. I'm there again right now- reliving the fears of all those firsts in conjunction with this next first.
I'm finding that it makes me feel alive. That it makes me happy that things are still exciting enough to get nervous about. The hope of what this next step could bring. The memories of what putting myself out there in the past has brought. The knowledge that hard work and fate have brought me to this very point in my life.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
"Is Love Alive?"
I did it. I went and fell for a boy. I didn't do what I normally do- didn't put most of myself out there, didn't just go through the motions, didn't just go for the sex, didn't hold back.
I met someone and I liked him and I didn't run. I fell. I went through the initial slightly uncomfortable, the slightly awkward, the butterflies, the when's-he-going-to-kiss-me-dammit, and finally found myself at this point where I felt so comfortable with him, where we felt natural. He made me laugh and when I had a bad day, he was who I wanted to talk to. I didn't feel the need to play happy on those bad days, and yet being with him, I'd suddenly forget that it was even a bad day to begin with. He sucked at making contact. He was hairy and somewhat spoiled and was living at home while he got his masters. But I liked him and I let myself.
He let me know on NYE that he decided he's too busy to date. That I was "warm and compassionate and a great person," but he didn't have time for a relationship.
And now I find myself standing at this really new, strange place. Dating is only somewhat new to me, but what's completely new is trusting myself, trusting the other person enough to allow myself to feel whatever it is that I feel, whenever it is that I feel it. I opened up and I fully put myself into the relationship and I did things in the "right" order, and and and.
For the most part, I'm choosing to remain positive. I'm choosing to see the relationship as experience and growth. I'm choosing to believe that his decision to stop dating really did have to do with his lack of time and not some lack about me. I'm choosing to let myself feel sad when something occurs to me and I think, oh C. would love this. I'm choosing to rewrite my online dating profile. I'm choosing to start looking again, with no rush or need to find someone else, just being open to the possibility. I'm choosing to think about what I didn't like about C. and what I would like in the next person.
And I'm trying as hard as I can to keep myself from shutting down, from backing away, from turning away from another relationship. I'm choosing and I'm trying and I'm growing.
"I still believe in summer days.
The seasons always change
and life will find a way.
I'll be your harvester of light
and send it out tonight
so we can start again.
Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?"
-Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson
I met someone and I liked him and I didn't run. I fell. I went through the initial slightly uncomfortable, the slightly awkward, the butterflies, the when's-he-going-to-kiss-me-dammit, and finally found myself at this point where I felt so comfortable with him, where we felt natural. He made me laugh and when I had a bad day, he was who I wanted to talk to. I didn't feel the need to play happy on those bad days, and yet being with him, I'd suddenly forget that it was even a bad day to begin with. He sucked at making contact. He was hairy and somewhat spoiled and was living at home while he got his masters. But I liked him and I let myself.
He let me know on NYE that he decided he's too busy to date. That I was "warm and compassionate and a great person," but he didn't have time for a relationship.
And now I find myself standing at this really new, strange place. Dating is only somewhat new to me, but what's completely new is trusting myself, trusting the other person enough to allow myself to feel whatever it is that I feel, whenever it is that I feel it. I opened up and I fully put myself into the relationship and I did things in the "right" order, and and and.
For the most part, I'm choosing to remain positive. I'm choosing to see the relationship as experience and growth. I'm choosing to believe that his decision to stop dating really did have to do with his lack of time and not some lack about me. I'm choosing to let myself feel sad when something occurs to me and I think, oh C. would love this. I'm choosing to rewrite my online dating profile. I'm choosing to start looking again, with no rush or need to find someone else, just being open to the possibility. I'm choosing to think about what I didn't like about C. and what I would like in the next person.
And I'm trying as hard as I can to keep myself from shutting down, from backing away, from turning away from another relationship. I'm choosing and I'm trying and I'm growing.
"I still believe in summer days.
The seasons always change
and life will find a way.
I'll be your harvester of light
and send it out tonight
so we can start again.
Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?"
-Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson
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