Breath of Fresh Air
Every so often I drive out to a small town here in Colorado and take a breather. Sometimes I come for family events and celebrations. These events have defined my presence here for as long as I can remember. Christmas with family and friends, weddings, funerals, summer camp... But now I am reclaiming this house as my own. Slowly, with each time I drive out here, this place is given new meaning by my visit. Its a rather strange feeling coming up here and not being with my family or having some wierd friends of the family staying in the guest room.
Basically, I am trying to relate that I am both in & out of my element at the same time. Somehow I can't entirely describe how I feel here; a mixture of anxiety, stress, calm, happiness, fear and desperation. Maybe I will journal about it when I get back to my place in the city.
So let me propose another topic. Only moments ago, when I was trying to put together the content for this blog in my mind, I stopped myself at a question. Well, several questions. Is this interesting? Are people going to think I am boring if they read this? Why does it matter anyway - this blog is mine, right?
I must consider the severity of my questions.
People reading this might be interested in knowing that I am terribly afraid of being dull. Every day I ask myself, "Am I an interesting person to know?" I quickly answer yes so that I couldn't say no. With striking authority I want to tell you that, indeed, I am an interesting person. Yet, I am not the one who judges this trait. Being interesting is a judgement placed on me by everyone else.
As if I were sitting with my psychiatrist, I want to question the origin of this fear. Well, where did this come from? The first answer that pops into my head is "mother." My maternal unit has taught me many things - most positive, some negative. Appreciating interesting people was one of them. No matter what kind of cracked out, pompous, alien people my mother chose as company, they always had something different to contribute. Looking back on all the wierd humans I was exposed to, my heart can only echo a sense of gratitude. Yes, some of them were terribly offensive and conceited but they all taught me a small lesson. Especially the really great people I met.
In addition to what my mother contributed, I want to point out elements of my brother, family name, classmates and friends that also contribute to this fear but, alas, I would have to write a novel. Let me finish by saying that I don't know what to do about this. Many people see traits in their parents or mentors that they cling to with stubborn desperation for their entire lives. I can't figure out if this is a negative thing, or a positive one. Am I trying to reach an admirable goal with a lot of anxiety? Or am I concentrating too much on external issues that I have no control over. I would love to hear your comments :)
Basically, I am trying to relate that I am both in & out of my element at the same time. Somehow I can't entirely describe how I feel here; a mixture of anxiety, stress, calm, happiness, fear and desperation. Maybe I will journal about it when I get back to my place in the city.
So let me propose another topic. Only moments ago, when I was trying to put together the content for this blog in my mind, I stopped myself at a question. Well, several questions. Is this interesting? Are people going to think I am boring if they read this? Why does it matter anyway - this blog is mine, right?
I must consider the severity of my questions.
People reading this might be interested in knowing that I am terribly afraid of being dull. Every day I ask myself, "Am I an interesting person to know?" I quickly answer yes so that I couldn't say no. With striking authority I want to tell you that, indeed, I am an interesting person. Yet, I am not the one who judges this trait. Being interesting is a judgement placed on me by everyone else.
As if I were sitting with my psychiatrist, I want to question the origin of this fear. Well, where did this come from? The first answer that pops into my head is "mother." My maternal unit has taught me many things - most positive, some negative. Appreciating interesting people was one of them. No matter what kind of cracked out, pompous, alien people my mother chose as company, they always had something different to contribute. Looking back on all the wierd humans I was exposed to, my heart can only echo a sense of gratitude. Yes, some of them were terribly offensive and conceited but they all taught me a small lesson. Especially the really great people I met.
In addition to what my mother contributed, I want to point out elements of my brother, family name, classmates and friends that also contribute to this fear but, alas, I would have to write a novel. Let me finish by saying that I don't know what to do about this. Many people see traits in their parents or mentors that they cling to with stubborn desperation for their entire lives. I can't figure out if this is a negative thing, or a positive one. Am I trying to reach an admirable goal with a lot of anxiety? Or am I concentrating too much on external issues that I have no control over. I would love to hear your comments :)
posted by Infiniteloop at 6:13 PM
2 Comments:
"that only the internet can provide. Things that I am concerned about:"
Nice list about internet. All the best from Poland.
boy - the one thing I don't think you need to worry about is being interesting! I knew you were an interesting, unique individual from the first moment I met you, and that opinion has only deepend in the time I have known you. I am sure people will be talking about how you impacted their lives by the time we are old and gray.
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