Wednesday, February 23, 2011

on the self plagued self


my fickleness knows no bounds; I can be so indecisive and directionless at times that I'm forced to consider that it may be a symptom of an absence of some critical core. so in response I half-heartedly muse on what sort of person I would be or how my behavior would be different if I were truer to my convictions. but that requires more introspection than I'm often unprepared for--after all, looking within assumes there is something to see, and there are few things more startling than discovering just how little core there may be.

which I suppose brings me to my biggest frustration with myself, and that is my conduct around other people. kind of a biggy!

to offer some context: I spent a lot of time working with people this weekend and it gave me opportunity to observe myself. on saturday I helped my friend Greg dig out earth & clay from the foundation of a house he's building, all the while jabbering with whatever rascally neighbor-kid or adult wandered on site. this sunday afternoon was spent at an urban crop mob, surrounded by friends, acquaintances and folks very new to me. 

on my way home after saturday's project, during a particularly sensitive National song and under a dimming sky (and my being utterly prone to sensory circumstance), I reflected on my impression of myself, and I didn't like it. I realized that not only was I talking during most of the work, but I did not savor the quieter moments when the neighbor kids were occupied elsewhere. Greg even commented on how quiet it was, which likely prompted me to wax on about something related to quietness. doh! in hindsight, I really would have liked to have been quieter in those moments. I love silence on my own; I actively savor it. why can't I be more attentive to it even when there are others to talk to? why can't I tune in to others' desire for silence? why must I comment on everything? oh boy. the self is daunting.

embarking on today's afternoon with folks, I tried to be mindful of what I didn't want to do. not only did I not want to jabber the whole time I was working, but I didn't want to forget names, to interrupt people, to rush to speak, to try to seem important or knowledgeable, or to shy from asking questions that are worth asking. 

all of this comes down to becoming a more precise and collected person. collected. collected. I write it thrice because it's such an attractive term to me right now (and also because I love double L's).

at this point it'd be good to ask myself what my motivation is for these reformations. do I desire poise so that I seem more feminine, more lady-like--more accomplished or impressive?

do I want to seem cooler and more with-it? on the ball, spot-on, on-point?

or do I want to embrace these changes so that I may be better to people?

every time I think I have a pretty good grasp on myself, I realize (with a cringe and an ache) some areas to which I've been totally oblivious. but I do know that I have many selfish intentions, and part of that comes down to simply being a human being whose default is to worry about my own welfare and security first and foremost. what a handicap! so my intentions will always be a mixed bag. but for now i can say this: I want to want to be better at being better to people.