Self Changes

How do you change something, when the power to change if the thing that you are wanting to create?

I have always held that knowledge was power. A few years ago, I met someone who has become a dear friend. He is still to this day the most introspective person I know. He made me realize that for all that I thought I searched for knowledge, I neglected the one place that I should have started first: myself. This was even more amusing to the both of us since I seemed to have such a solid grasp on other people's nature. Perhaps it was easier to see others than to face myself.

Since that time, and in large part due to his help and some unique life experiences, I began to learn a great deal about who I really am at my core, and as such have become quite introspective. While knowing the truth almost always reveals some things one would rather not see, I was still glad to know my faults as well as my strengths, and saw my life taken to a new level. I am very glad of this, but the original high of my now years-old discovery has worn off, and I have seen that there are limits and even unique frustrations to this gift of introspection.

I have noticed that several people in my life see things wrong with themselves, but seem unable to change them. I have always thought that this must be terribly frustrating. Of course, I think that sometimes part of the problem comes down to sifting through who you are, and what is excess. Who you are is who you are. All you can do is scrape away the things that aren't who you are, and come to terms with that, or cover them up. I believe that the average person does the latter, and that only the former can really make you happy, but that again comes from my belief that being ourselves is the only way to be happy.

What to do with the excess, I think can be a problem. If you take the time to see yourself for who you are, I always thought that was really the most you had to do. Simply see yourself (no small feat, mind you) and then embrace who you are. Of course, life sometimes makes this difficult by adding excess. Until recently, I thought that the excess kind of faded away if you are yourself, which is much of what happened with me. I can look back at where I saw my true self, and as such, discarded something that I was doing or being that wasn't me. Sometimes it was gradual, a few times it was dramatic (at one point, I thought I was shy, if you can imagine), but it always seemed that the challenge was just finding what was really me.

Now I realize that sometimes, that isn't all there is too it, and I feel lost. When it comes to myself, the last few years have really let me feel as though I had a handle on nearly every facet. Accepting my faults and compensating with my strength has brought me a lot of happiness, but now I see that sometimes this power isn't enough. I think that sometimes this is what my friends deal with that I haven't understood.

This entry has gone on for quite some time. Suffice to say, I am dealing now with knowing that there is an "excess" upon me that is not who I am, nor who I want to be. I know this, and for the first time, I have no idea how to get back to simply being me.

Lessons on inspiration, defeat, and pick-me-ups

So the last two days have been... well, to put it suscinctly: Hell. I found out a bit of news that I never needed to hear, and I faced several of what I can only call defeats. On top of that, a million small things, all seemed to go wrong, right when I would think there might be some light at the end of the tunnel. Though I won't go into the details, I will say that all that has happened has put a serious damper on most areas of my life right now. This is not to say that I did not learn from what has happened. In fact, as I reflected tonight during my drive to Columbia, I may have indeed discovered quite a few things about myself that had heretofore been hidden.

Perhaps the most surprising to me was my reaction to my "defeats." Knowing what I do about myself and my ego, I would have assumed, as I am would most that know me, that I would be stung by defeat simply because it was a loss. Surprisingly enough, this was not at all the case. Though I do indeed enjoy winning, I did not feel bitter over defeat for its own sake. That is not to say that there were not negative emotions. What I realized that startled me no little bit was that the defeat mattered very little to me, but my concern was only for what I saw was the price I paid. Some might not see the difference, or would assume that there would be pain at the tangible price paid for a defeat or a loss, but to someone who puts a high price on winning, I was honestly taken aback at my own reactions.

Perhaps a good illustration of what I am talking about would be from the past, or even a story. Imagine a general on the field of battle. After an army is defeated, there is often talk about the shame of defeat. Even in a simple brawl, it is often the loss itself, not the bruises gained that make the most dramatic effect. This is clearly what I expected. I expected to feel a sense of loss for the price I paid, but I would have anticipated it to pale in comparison for the sting of the defeat on principal. This was even moreso due to the fact that I know how important my abilities and my victories are to me.

Something else that I spent a lot of time thinking about was why no one can ever cheer me up when they try. With the gravity of some of the things I am dealing with, those I shared even a portion with did their best to make me feel better. Though I haven't thought about it a lot, their failed attempts are something I often felt. Very rarely, if ever, has anyone who attempted to make me feel better actually done so. I know that it isn't normally for a lack of trying or sincerity on their part, though that can certainly be the case. As I reflected on it for a long time, I realized that the source of my depression (not in the continual sense, but rather a temporary state) is almost always evident not in an additional pain, but rather in the loss of what is normally there. I am not sure if this is the case for everyone, but I am beginning to see a clearer picture of my own "down times."

I have had several family members and some close friends who have dealt with, or currently deal with a lot of depression. Listening to them has given me a certain understanding of what at least some people go through. Often there is the addition of despairing thoughts, hopelessness, etc. That explains why trying to soothe someone with uplifting thoughts, and instilling hope and confidence are people's normal reactions. Often times, these overtures do a great deal for a person. Why not in my case?

I think the answer is in that what I need when I am down is not emotional support, or pick-me-ups, but inspiration. In my life, the greatest source of my energy and love of life comes from my vision and ambition. These are fueled by inspiration. When things go wrong in my life, the times that I have recovered most effectively is when I am inspired. Once I was very down before heading to Boys State. It didn't take long before I was energized and alive, because by its very nature, that program is inspiring to me. I think back to all the times where it was a struggle to feel better, no matter what efforts my friends or family made, and I realize that while there may have been a lot of energy in trying to soothe painful emotions, what I really needed was lacking, which was a kickstart to my own positive emotions.

I certainly do not feel good about the way things have gone, or what I am going through, and I haven't moved beyond the darkness I feel, but on an intellectual level, I appreciate the insight I have gained in this time, and look forward to examining it further.

Imagined Affection

Last night I went and saw The Night Listener with a good friend of mine (which, as an aside, was really nice as she and I have not seen each other much lately, and I had almost forgotten how much fun we had. Scary to believe, but she is more like me than anyone I have ever met). The movie was good, though a bit weird, but definitely one I would recommend to those who enjoy thoughtful movies. It even had some good humor thrown in. I won't go into the details, as doing so would definitely detract from the tale, but there is one line that really stuck out to me. Robin Williams is talking with a friend when he asks, "How can you miss someone that never existed?"

For whatever reason initially, that line stuck with me and I realized how many facets of life that can come into play. Think about when you meet someone and get to know them. Your affection for them is set one way or another based upon what you see in them. What happens when this turns out not to be truly who they are? Think of the relationships where people say they have fallen in love with a lie. What they realize is that it is not the person that they truly fell in love with, but rather who they thought that person to be. When the truth is discovered, the one in love is often devastated even though in truth the object of their affection never existed.

If you want an easier example that is perhaps more universal, consider a good novel or movie. If it is truly good, you develop feelings for the characters. You are elated when the "bad guy" is defeated, or crushed when a loveable person dies. Why? In the abstract it is easy to think that our feelings are attached to people, but in fact they seem to be only attached to thoughts, imaginings even. When reading a book you aren't even given expression or a face to attach your feelings to, only a thought. How then, can they be so powerful?

On a baser level one has to wonder whether the feelings created in any of these instances are only replications of our feelings for real things, or are they in fact the same things we always attach feelings to: an image in our mind? Answering these questions would not only provide an abstract insight into people as a whole, but could be incredibly powerful in answering a vital question that every person faces: How much can we control our feelings? Some would say that we have total control while others advise that we have none. If we are only replicating our feelings, then perhaps the latter can be true, but if feelings are really only attached to our thoughts, then the potential for our control could be great indeed.