For all the positivity and seeming boundless energy in my last post, it is of course natural that my lazy has not accomplished near to what I wanted in the two weeks since writing and posting.
I always forget the incredible weight and challenge of inertia. Last year, when living in Korea, I decided that I was going to start studying the Korean language in a very real way- study a minimum number of hours each week, with a goal and a test to wrap all things up. However, being out of school for years at that point made the transition surprisingly difficult- I wasn't used to studying, nor was I accustomed to having to subject myself to any sort of personal discipline whatsoever.
It took months- two or three entire months- to rev my engines up to the point that I could actually treat studying like it was a daily, expected activity. Plugging it into my routine was incredibly difficult and a challenge that I constantly failed. I don't understand what it is about my lazy-ass personality, but I just don't like doing things, apparently. I loved how busy I used to be in school and how challenging it was to balance a schedule of work, school, work again, volunteering, an active social life, and even- god forbid- exercise and healthy living.
But now, years out from that, I can only look back at that time with the longing of a washed-up has-been. At twenty-six, I know that I'm way too young to look back at those 'glory days', but that's really what has been happening. It's embarassing and I don't understand why even getting myself to study a few hours every week is such a challenge... let alone eating healthy, or exercising regularly.
After that initial challenge period, I moved into a nice groove of studying about twenty hours a week. That was a bit excessive, but I had the free time back then so it was not only a nice way to fill my time, but I also benefitted a great deal from the increased focus on my brain and active intellectual pursuit. It worked wonders for my confidence and I even began to work out somewhat occasionally, and moved towards a healthy, regular sleep cycle.
There are days lately where I come home from work, getting in around 1 am or so, and I just sit in front of my computer and do nothing. I surf the web for hours, maybe chatting lightly with a friend, and I think about all the things that I'd rather be doing or that I would be better off for doing. Sometimes I have to mentally fight with myself to even push myself to play a video game or watch a movie- because even THOSE things would be more productive than the shitload of nothing that I am doing at the time.
I'm still not sure how to overcome this, but I'm getting back into the swing of studying. 10 hours a week minimum, 15 hours a week as my goal. I'm studying computer/nerd stuff, trying my best to learn and hopefully to prepare for taking some classes at a community college next year (if I can swing it financially). I love studying and I love learning, so I'm not even sure what the difficulty is.
Is inertia really such a challenge? I've been moving at a glacial pace for a long time, and I want to be flying again. I know I'm headed in the right direction these days, and I'm even finding some satisfaction in my work- which is new for me- but I'm moving too slow. I need the thrill of challenge again outside of the office, and I need to know what it means to be legitimately busy again.
So how do I do that? How do I speed up from crawling to flying again?
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Missing Me
A few years ago, I decided that I wanted to be a diplomat.
I guess it's been almost more than a few years; it was back in 2006. But now at twenty-six years of age, perhaps seven years past really is just 'a few years'. My oldest brother turned thirty a few weeks ago, and my younger brother is twenty-four soon. Is it strange that watching their ages go up makes me feel older than watching my own?
So I decided that I wanted to be a diplomat, and of all places, I wanted to be a diplomat in Asia- South Korea specifically. So I studied Korean in school, got a degree in linguistics, and did all sorts of other stuff to prepare me for this amazing career that I was without a doubt romanticizing into oblivion. I wanted to change the world; I wanted my actions to positively impact everyone around me.
When I finally got there, it wasn't what I expected- 'it' being both South Korea and the world as a whole. I met some amazing people, and also some very bad people. I was lied to and taken advantage of, and I didn't really understand half of what was happening to me. So like my typical, stubborn old self, I put my head down and tried to power through. I needed to succeed, on my terms, and in my own way- through grit and perseverance, just like all my childhood stories always told me.
Well, naturally, that didn't work. I wanted to believe for so long that simply working hard and staying positive would be enough to bring me the sort of grand success that I had always dreamed of. When I discovered that that's really just not how the world operates, I spiraled into a long, drawn-out emotional flinch that last almost a year while I 'recovered' by living at home and working as a barista at a local starbucks. I met some great people there, too, and will always look back at that time with fondness.
I went back to Asia, energized and ready to succeed in a whole different way. Gone again for another year, I found the sort of adventures that I remembered from my last trip and a new sort of sadness. Again, my time there blew up in my face because of some awful people making some really awful decisions, and I left bitter, angry, and broke.
Now, more than six months returned to America and settling into a comfortable and productive place, I look back at the things that are gone, the things I missed while I was 'gone'. Even when I was back in America living at home, it was such a challenging place that I never felt like myself- I never felt content or satisfied, only wanting more and never really reaching out to people like I used to.
I've had these moods before, and now I'm finally beginning to realize the cost of missing myself. I missed my father's wedding to my wonderful stepmother, and I missed my brother's wedding to my new sister-in-law. I missed the pregnancy and new motherhood of a very close friend, and the blossoming of so many people's romantic and professional lives. My family grows larger, and I still feel so separated by my own choices.
I'm growing tired of missing things, of missing me. My grandmother sent me a birthday card recently that reminds me of how excited and happy I was as a kid. Reading it stopped me for a moment because there is not part of growing up that necessitates bitterness and cynicism.
Maturity isn't born from misery, and success doesn't come from asperity. I've always compensated for my lack of discipline with harshness towards both myself and the people around me, but that's never been a good solution.
So let's trade asperity for temperance, and grimness for fortitude, and see if this next leg of the adventure doesn't come with a bit more success than the last.
I guess it's been almost more than a few years; it was back in 2006. But now at twenty-six years of age, perhaps seven years past really is just 'a few years'. My oldest brother turned thirty a few weeks ago, and my younger brother is twenty-four soon. Is it strange that watching their ages go up makes me feel older than watching my own?
So I decided that I wanted to be a diplomat, and of all places, I wanted to be a diplomat in Asia- South Korea specifically. So I studied Korean in school, got a degree in linguistics, and did all sorts of other stuff to prepare me for this amazing career that I was without a doubt romanticizing into oblivion. I wanted to change the world; I wanted my actions to positively impact everyone around me.
When I finally got there, it wasn't what I expected- 'it' being both South Korea and the world as a whole. I met some amazing people, and also some very bad people. I was lied to and taken advantage of, and I didn't really understand half of what was happening to me. So like my typical, stubborn old self, I put my head down and tried to power through. I needed to succeed, on my terms, and in my own way- through grit and perseverance, just like all my childhood stories always told me.
Well, naturally, that didn't work. I wanted to believe for so long that simply working hard and staying positive would be enough to bring me the sort of grand success that I had always dreamed of. When I discovered that that's really just not how the world operates, I spiraled into a long, drawn-out emotional flinch that last almost a year while I 'recovered' by living at home and working as a barista at a local starbucks. I met some great people there, too, and will always look back at that time with fondness.
I went back to Asia, energized and ready to succeed in a whole different way. Gone again for another year, I found the sort of adventures that I remembered from my last trip and a new sort of sadness. Again, my time there blew up in my face because of some awful people making some really awful decisions, and I left bitter, angry, and broke.
Now, more than six months returned to America and settling into a comfortable and productive place, I look back at the things that are gone, the things I missed while I was 'gone'. Even when I was back in America living at home, it was such a challenging place that I never felt like myself- I never felt content or satisfied, only wanting more and never really reaching out to people like I used to.
I've had these moods before, and now I'm finally beginning to realize the cost of missing myself. I missed my father's wedding to my wonderful stepmother, and I missed my brother's wedding to my new sister-in-law. I missed the pregnancy and new motherhood of a very close friend, and the blossoming of so many people's romantic and professional lives. My family grows larger, and I still feel so separated by my own choices.
I'm growing tired of missing things, of missing me. My grandmother sent me a birthday card recently that reminds me of how excited and happy I was as a kid. Reading it stopped me for a moment because there is not part of growing up that necessitates bitterness and cynicism.
Maturity isn't born from misery, and success doesn't come from asperity. I've always compensated for my lack of discipline with harshness towards both myself and the people around me, but that's never been a good solution.
So let's trade asperity for temperance, and grimness for fortitude, and see if this next leg of the adventure doesn't come with a bit more success than the last.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
November
Has it already been a month since I last posted here? Good lord.
I guess it's kinda hard to want to update since I a) feel like I have so very little to report most of the time and b), I don't think that anyone really reads this here. I suppose it's hard to build any sort of readership when I don't post, or at least don't post anything insightful or interesting, eh?
November has for, several years now, been a pretty significant month for me. In 2009, I took the month to participate in the National Novel Writing Month's competition to write a (relatively) short novel in the short 30 days of November. It was a big stress to me at the time and I fretted the entire time over the purpose of it, wondering what could possibly be the benefit of doing such a silly thing. After all, who could really develop anything useful or interesting or well-thought out or well-constructed in just 30 days?
It turns out that I was both right and wrong. Although I participated (jumping in 5 days late, sigh), and I won by exceeding the 50,000 word minimum given in the pseudo-competition (50,294), the story was not of the greatest quality. In fact, it was far from my best writing or my highest capabilities. Although it was really only 4 years ago, reading back through some of the novel that I wrote is nearly painful for me.
Yet, I have a novel to go back and read. In fact, I devoted an entire month to writing. I thought daily about my characters and built an entire world up out of nothing. I got to know the imaginary people and began to see how they would fit in with my real life. I wanted to know them better; I wanted them to be real. Even though they were just figments of my imagination, I started to imbue parts of me into their little fiction-encased bodies.
And it sparked nearly two years of intense creativity that I haven't seen the likes of since. Part of me looks back at that time and remarks: "Oh, to be 22 again and not have had to pay any school loans back", or "Jeeze, I miss having all that free time and no car to do anything." I think realistically, a big part of that year of intense 'creation' was sparked off by the success I experienced in NaNoWriMo and the after effects of having my head constantly up in the clouds.
I miss that- that feeling. That knowledge that I was something more than myself, that I was building and creating, that confidence that I even could create. A few years of some difficult work and some very unfortunate life experiences sometimes makes me feel like all of that positivity and creativity was just stomped out of me.
But it hasn't been, and it never will be. Like blood, I have what I need to generate more of those positivity components. I never lost my 'creative marrow', I just forget that it was there. Maybe this November is a good time to search for those essentials again.
I guess it's kinda hard to want to update since I a) feel like I have so very little to report most of the time and b), I don't think that anyone really reads this here. I suppose it's hard to build any sort of readership when I don't post, or at least don't post anything insightful or interesting, eh?
November has for, several years now, been a pretty significant month for me. In 2009, I took the month to participate in the National Novel Writing Month's competition to write a (relatively) short novel in the short 30 days of November. It was a big stress to me at the time and I fretted the entire time over the purpose of it, wondering what could possibly be the benefit of doing such a silly thing. After all, who could really develop anything useful or interesting or well-thought out or well-constructed in just 30 days?
It turns out that I was both right and wrong. Although I participated (jumping in 5 days late, sigh), and I won by exceeding the 50,000 word minimum given in the pseudo-competition (50,294), the story was not of the greatest quality. In fact, it was far from my best writing or my highest capabilities. Although it was really only 4 years ago, reading back through some of the novel that I wrote is nearly painful for me.
Yet, I have a novel to go back and read. In fact, I devoted an entire month to writing. I thought daily about my characters and built an entire world up out of nothing. I got to know the imaginary people and began to see how they would fit in with my real life. I wanted to know them better; I wanted them to be real. Even though they were just figments of my imagination, I started to imbue parts of me into their little fiction-encased bodies.
And it sparked nearly two years of intense creativity that I haven't seen the likes of since. Part of me looks back at that time and remarks: "Oh, to be 22 again and not have had to pay any school loans back", or "Jeeze, I miss having all that free time and no car to do anything." I think realistically, a big part of that year of intense 'creation' was sparked off by the success I experienced in NaNoWriMo and the after effects of having my head constantly up in the clouds.
I miss that- that feeling. That knowledge that I was something more than myself, that I was building and creating, that confidence that I even could create. A few years of some difficult work and some very unfortunate life experiences sometimes makes me feel like all of that positivity and creativity was just stomped out of me.
But it hasn't been, and it never will be. Like blood, I have what I need to generate more of those positivity components. I never lost my 'creative marrow', I just forget that it was there. Maybe this November is a good time to search for those essentials again.
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