I am a salad bowl of tossed emotions.
How's that for a metaphor? I have always maintained that one cannot find a better place for original and crazy metaphors than an LDS meetinghouse, whether large or small: conference center or chapel. Parable of the Pickle, anyone?
"Lettuce" see:
I am not cool as a cucumber. Far from it. I'm nervous and anxious, and curious, and annoyed, and happy, and excited, and frustrated, and sad, and disappointed, anticipatory, and weary, and confused, nay, confuzzled, and tired, and wired, and fired, and rushing, and slow, alert, and dazed....
I'm a mess. It's not all bad. It's not all good. I wish some things could be different. Things about circumstances. My circumstances and others' circumstances. Things about me. Things about others. Just think how amazing all life could be if everybody was the best version of him or herself!! I know we wouldn't learn that way, but if it could just be for a day, then I could know what to work at, and what's in store for me. And I would treat others and myself better because I would know what they could be. Not that I shouldn't treat them as such anyway, but you have to admit it would be easier.
My friend asked me today why I "always downplay my intelligence," and say things like, "I'm so dumb" or "I can't do that, it's too hard." Which I do. Way too often. Inside and out loud. This kid will be the death of me, he makes me think way too hard about myself. It's hard when you know that others think better of you than you think of yourself. I start getting all analytical, and then I feel like I need to work and be better. This is a good thing, because I always need to be striving to improve, but sometimes I hate getting too close to myself.
Does that make sense? It's like I'm scared to get to know myself better and to take responsibility for my shortcomings or my strengths. Like I don't want to admit that I'm bad at something, or that I'm good at something. Which I immediately fail at because I'll tell myself I'm not good enough to do....whatever it is... all the time. It just seems like it's more okay to tell myself I'm dumb than to tell myself I'm smart.
I don't know what I'm saying. It doesn't seem to be making sense. Maybe you can make sense of it. Maybe you can relate. I don't know. Lately, I guess I've been doing some soul searching without even knowing that I've been doing it.
So here's the goal: No more telling myself I can't do whatever it is that I'm am faced with. Heavenly Father didn't create me to be a fool. It's my choice whether or not I behave like one. So I'm choosing not to. I'm going to be happy with the capabilities I've been blessed with, and if there's something that's really hard for me, I'll ask for the help I need to do it. I know I can't do this all in one day, that would be impossible, so starting out small...if I think I'm dumb or incapable, I'm going to keep it to myself. No one needs to hear that. They don't want to hear that. I wouldn't want to hear that.
The next time my friend sees me (tomorrow), as far as he can tell, I will be a better, more positive and optimistic, and uplifting self. I may never have a clue as to what is going on in class. I may always look, as my teacher so kindly told me, "pretty star-struck there, a little deer-in-the-headlights" whenever I am called on. I may crack too many jokes because I'm uncomfortable with not being able to understand. But I won't be talking about how I can't. So there!
All that emotional mumbo-jumbo aside, my mom is coming to visit me next Friday! She is going to cancel her class to come up with my friend Katy's mom and to take us out for the day. I'm so excited for her to come, there are so many things I need to tell her and ask her about.
If you are in her Mandarin classes at UVU, all your thanks may be directed to me. She was going to get a substitute for you, but I convinced her that it would just be best if she canceled. You owe me a doughnut. I like the custard-filled ones, or the maple bars.
:)
