So last night we had a lovely girls night, and for a short while Maggie, Marcy, and I found ourselves laying about the living room talking about the concept of control. What we realized was that everything is all wrong.
All the while you're growing up, you're being taught (whether intentionally or not) to believe that when you're an adult, you will have control in your life. My life as a teacher in a classroom of toddler revolves around avoiding power struggles by giving them control. Over small things, mind you... Do you want to sit in a blue chair or a red chair, should we sing 5 little monkeys or 5 little ducks, etc, but still, giving them control. Throughout your childhood you have very little control over your environment. The adults around you remind you that when you're all grown up, you can make the calls. All your life you look forward to being all grown up and having that control over your life.
You enter grown-up life, whatever that is for you. For those of us present last night, it's post-college life. No longer is it acceptable to eat ramen 3 meals a day, 7 days a week. No longer can you invite all your friends over on a whim that very night and have them all show up and party with you. No, now, you have to give them a week's notice and hope that they won't be too exhausted by their work week by the time you get to that night. But why? Why are we so exhausted by 40 hour work weeks on (at least fairly) regular schedules when we had all the energy in the world taking 15-18 credits a semester and working (at least) part time and writing 5 papers a week? When we were doing that we could stay up til 3 am and wake up at 8 am and get through the day no problem, but now we work 8 hours and come home and eat dinner and veg in front of the TV until 9 o'clock bedtime. What happened to us?
I think what happened to us is that we are under the illusion that now that we are living adult lives, we are in control. But really... we aren't. The vast majority of things we encounter on a daily basis are out of our control. We're exhausted from trying to control things that we can't possibly control, from convincing ourselves that we can, from trying to find ways that we can, and from exercising extra control over the things that we can concretely see. I can control what time I go to bed. I can control what I eat for breakfast. I can't control what the traffic will be like on my way to work, I can't control the 80 year old man in front of me or the state cop behind me the whole way out to Foster. I can't control whether the children in my class slept well last night and ate balanced breakfasts. I can't control the moods of my coworkers, I can't control the speed with which lunch gets prepared, I can't control the bowel movements of two year olds or the abilities of diapers to contain them. I can't control the weather to allow us to get outside. I can't control what time parents arrive to pick up their children. I can't control the traffic on the ride home. I can control how I react to all these things, but that's it. If I don't love my situation, I can try to change it, but even that I have limited control over. I can apply for new jobs, I can dress to impress for my interview and know my facts inside and out, but if another applicant is twice as qualified as me... I can't control that. I just have to accept it. I can't control how other people feel about me. I can influence it, but I can't do it. I can't control the way other people spend their time to conform to how I want to spend it with them. I can influence it, but that's it.
ALMOST EVERYTHING IS OUT OF MY CONTROL. And the same goes for you.
It's terrifying.
It's also liberating and exhilarating.
New life goal: Just Let Go.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
5 months since graduation, but the learning never stops... Continued, 23 months after graduation.
Original Post: http://megsjourneys.blogspot.com/2008/10/5-months-since-graduation-but-learning.html
And since subbing at sweet Early Learning Center:
So off I go again, to the next stop on this journey called life.
And since subbing at sweet Early Learning Center:
- become frustrated with lack of grown opportunities and being underutilized and, in general, get bored
- halfheartedly search for other jobs in Early Childhood Ed
- accidentally find one that seems awesome and pays *relatively* well
- learn that I was right in the first place about not wanting to teach.
So off I go again, to the next stop on this journey called life.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
revisiting.
Oh Hey, Internet, it's been a while.
I have recently found myself humbled/beside myself/proud to find that the student organization I started at URI my senior year with my best friends is still alive and well. We were a small group then, hardly expanded outside of my social circle, and yet, two years after graduation I stumbled upon the facebook group once again and found it active, enthusiastic, and captained by a complete stranger. Way to go, self, way to take the jump and hope people will jump with you, way to trust a complete stranger to be in control of something so dear to you.
The night it all started, when I begged my friends to come over and watch a documentary that had changed the way I looked at/did everything, I was impressed simply that they broke down and came to watch another sad story about Africa. When the film ended and the first words spoken were "So What Can We Do??" I knew exactly what was next. Schools for Schools, though becoming a fainter memory each day, still ranks up there in my top 5 bravest, proudest accomplishments. With the help of my best friends, I co-founded a non-profit that has to date raised thousands of dollars with the extraordinarily limited resources that are at the hands of poor college kids, plus limitless enthusiasm and energy. And it wasn't until this moment that I look back and can say, "WOW!" It's just a small part of a much larger national organization, but it's a small part that wouldn't have existed were it not for me. I gave presentations in classes at URI, I ran programs in dorms, I gave presentations in high schools, I even gave a presentation for a student group at a university in Canada. I'm overwhelmed with the gravity of it all.
Two years later I miss the apple peeling/cutting/baking that I thought would make me hate apples forever. I miss our statistics bridge. I miss late nights, early mornings, and freezing my butt off. I miss planning a statewide event, I miss the thrill of people actually showing up for a statewide event. I miss our little room in the Memorial Union, I miss the fellowship and team spirit of strangers converging upon a big city for a common cause, I miss the constant churning of my brain.
I miss the part of myself that would throw caution to the wind and book a flight to San Diego that I can't afford, a hotel in San Diego that I can't afford, and put myself in a group of like-minded strangers ready to learn and broaden their sense of everything. I miss constantly making friends with strangers all over the country. And I miss those friends.
I miss knowing how to to make a positive impact on the world every day. I miss not being afraid to dream outrageously.
And yet, all at the same time, I have discovered the beauty of just letting go. Taking a leap and not worrying about whether I'll land on my feet, get caught midair, or fall on my face. It's scary as hell, but I'm not turning back. My love is my whole being.
I have recently found myself humbled/beside myself/proud to find that the student organization I started at URI my senior year with my best friends is still alive and well. We were a small group then, hardly expanded outside of my social circle, and yet, two years after graduation I stumbled upon the facebook group once again and found it active, enthusiastic, and captained by a complete stranger. Way to go, self, way to take the jump and hope people will jump with you, way to trust a complete stranger to be in control of something so dear to you.
The night it all started, when I begged my friends to come over and watch a documentary that had changed the way I looked at/did everything, I was impressed simply that they broke down and came to watch another sad story about Africa. When the film ended and the first words spoken were "So What Can We Do??" I knew exactly what was next. Schools for Schools, though becoming a fainter memory each day, still ranks up there in my top 5 bravest, proudest accomplishments. With the help of my best friends, I co-founded a non-profit that has to date raised thousands of dollars with the extraordinarily limited resources that are at the hands of poor college kids, plus limitless enthusiasm and energy. And it wasn't until this moment that I look back and can say, "WOW!" It's just a small part of a much larger national organization, but it's a small part that wouldn't have existed were it not for me. I gave presentations in classes at URI, I ran programs in dorms, I gave presentations in high schools, I even gave a presentation for a student group at a university in Canada. I'm overwhelmed with the gravity of it all.
Two years later I miss the apple peeling/cutting/baking that I thought would make me hate apples forever. I miss our statistics bridge. I miss late nights, early mornings, and freezing my butt off. I miss planning a statewide event, I miss the thrill of people actually showing up for a statewide event. I miss our little room in the Memorial Union, I miss the fellowship and team spirit of strangers converging upon a big city for a common cause, I miss the constant churning of my brain.
I miss the part of myself that would throw caution to the wind and book a flight to San Diego that I can't afford, a hotel in San Diego that I can't afford, and put myself in a group of like-minded strangers ready to learn and broaden their sense of everything. I miss constantly making friends with strangers all over the country. And I miss those friends.
I miss knowing how to to make a positive impact on the world every day. I miss not being afraid to dream outrageously.
And yet, all at the same time, I have discovered the beauty of just letting go. Taking a leap and not worrying about whether I'll land on my feet, get caught midair, or fall on my face. It's scary as hell, but I'm not turning back. My love is my whole being.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Ndakasimba kana makasimbawo
Honest and Manuel, well you know, they're at school now
Given the chance that their father's never seen
To see whats beyond Section 17.
And in ten years, when you look back at your boys,
well you know they've grown way taller
than the tallest sugar cane in the field.
So I'm watching Dispatch Zimbabwe and it's taking me back to one hell of an awesome night. Brings me back to the emotions I felt that night and in the months surrounding it. That night I knew what I wanted. Among other things, I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I thought.
But it turns out, I'm still trying to figure out... what is it that I want to do? It's not really that I don't know at all. It's that I don't know how to accomplish it, how to make a living (however meager) doing what I want to do. And how to do what I want to do, but still maintain my social support system? Is that impossible? So far... it seems yes.
More deeply than ever before, I find myself lost for answers to questions like "Who Am I?" and "What Do I Like?" and "What Do I Want To Do?" and "Where Do I Want To Be?" and "What Are My Priorities?" and "What Do I Believe In?" Some of them are questions that it makes sense to still be searching for answers for. Others seem like questions that should have obvious answers, but right now, nothing is obvious to me. I don't know who I am or what I'm doing or where I'm going. Ad says, "discover the beauty in losing yourself to be found." Bryn says "stop looking for answers and just be." But I can't shake the feeling of discomfort that I have as a result of suddenly knowing *nothing.*
I want to play with children all my life. I love my daycare and feel like I could be happy there forever. But at the same exact time, I feel like I'd be cheating myself out of all my goals and wishes to do development work. I want to go to Africa. But why do I want to go to Africa? Because I care... why do I care? Do I care because I jumped on a caring-about-Africa bandwagon? Do I care because some college guys made a good movie about Africa? Do I care because Elias makes me tap my feet and sing along? Do I care because I'm just a fantastic wonderful person who wants to make other people's lives better? Can't be that, or else I'd be in a tent in Africa just doing it, instead of wondering about making a living and maintaining my social support system. I want to take pictures for a living. I spend lots of time getting friends to model for me. Or trying to. Apparently the new trend is to hate pictures of oneself. But how can I want to take pictures for a living if working at Sears Portrait Studio as a photographer made me hurt so much? What was it about Sears that was so awful? I feel like so much of the time I was in the camera room taking pictures, I was happy and smiling, yet when I think of the place, I am consumed with this overarching dread. Why can't I define the source of the soul-eating that happens at Sears?
Why? Who? Where? What? How?
I know I'm only 22 and having a lot of questions still left to answer is normal. I'm not really asking for answers, either. I'm just hoping that taking the time to write this all down will help me work through it all. Meh.
Given the chance that their father's never seen
To see whats beyond Section 17.
And in ten years, when you look back at your boys,
well you know they've grown way taller
than the tallest sugar cane in the field.
So I'm watching Dispatch Zimbabwe and it's taking me back to one hell of an awesome night. Brings me back to the emotions I felt that night and in the months surrounding it. That night I knew what I wanted. Among other things, I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I thought.
But it turns out, I'm still trying to figure out... what is it that I want to do? It's not really that I don't know at all. It's that I don't know how to accomplish it, how to make a living (however meager) doing what I want to do. And how to do what I want to do, but still maintain my social support system? Is that impossible? So far... it seems yes.
More deeply than ever before, I find myself lost for answers to questions like "Who Am I?" and "What Do I Like?" and "What Do I Want To Do?" and "Where Do I Want To Be?" and "What Are My Priorities?" and "What Do I Believe In?" Some of them are questions that it makes sense to still be searching for answers for. Others seem like questions that should have obvious answers, but right now, nothing is obvious to me. I don't know who I am or what I'm doing or where I'm going. Ad says, "discover the beauty in losing yourself to be found." Bryn says "stop looking for answers and just be." But I can't shake the feeling of discomfort that I have as a result of suddenly knowing *nothing.*
I want to play with children all my life. I love my daycare and feel like I could be happy there forever. But at the same exact time, I feel like I'd be cheating myself out of all my goals and wishes to do development work. I want to go to Africa. But why do I want to go to Africa? Because I care... why do I care? Do I care because I jumped on a caring-about-Africa bandwagon? Do I care because some college guys made a good movie about Africa? Do I care because Elias makes me tap my feet and sing along? Do I care because I'm just a fantastic wonderful person who wants to make other people's lives better? Can't be that, or else I'd be in a tent in Africa just doing it, instead of wondering about making a living and maintaining my social support system. I want to take pictures for a living. I spend lots of time getting friends to model for me. Or trying to. Apparently the new trend is to hate pictures of oneself. But how can I want to take pictures for a living if working at Sears Portrait Studio as a photographer made me hurt so much? What was it about Sears that was so awful? I feel like so much of the time I was in the camera room taking pictures, I was happy and smiling, yet when I think of the place, I am consumed with this overarching dread. Why can't I define the source of the soul-eating that happens at Sears?
Why? Who? Where? What? How?
I know I'm only 22 and having a lot of questions still left to answer is normal. I'm not really asking for answers, either. I'm just hoping that taking the time to write this all down will help me work through it all. Meh.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Andrew made me.
I called Andrew out on a distinct lack of posts in his "I'm having fun in Spain!" journal, and his response was I haven't updated in a while either. This is true. So here's the superficial update:
I work and work and work. Most exciting things that have happened to me are I started at Gregg's again and Keith talked me into yet another bank account (that's 2 total, bringing me to a total of 4 bank accounts).
Three dear friends of mine have inspired me to finally start thinking again and stop just moving through life like a robot. Hopefully this time it sticks.
* CAUTION * INTROSPECTION IN PROCESS * CAUTION * INTROSPECTION IN PROCESS * CAUTION * INTROSPECTION IN PROCESS * CAUTION*
I work and work and work. Most exciting things that have happened to me are I started at Gregg's again and Keith talked me into yet another bank account (that's 2 total, bringing me to a total of 4 bank accounts).
Three dear friends of mine have inspired me to finally start thinking again and stop just moving through life like a robot. Hopefully this time it sticks.
* CAUTION * INTROSPECTION IN PROCESS * CAUTION * INTROSPECTION IN PROCESS * CAUTION * INTROSPECTION IN PROCESS * CAUTION*
Thursday, October 16, 2008
5 months since graduation, but the learning never stops.
As a general recap of my college career:
- Begin URI as a journalism major.
- Become afraid of the rigidity of the curriculum and gen eds being too specific, switch to English major.
- realize I'm totally noncommittal.
- Realize there's not much I can do with an English major, add Elementary Education.
- Realize I only really like the little little kids, switch to Early Childhood Education.
- Realize that the ECE major is really a double major in and of itself, drop English to a minor.
- Decide I don't really want to teach, drop the Education portion of the ECE double major: Education/HDF.
- See Invisible Children and become passionate about children affected by the war in Northern Uganda.
- Meet Bryn and realize that International Development is a thing and that I am really passionate about that.
- Add minor in International Development.
- Realize I have potential in the field of photography.
- Travel to Italy for a photography course.
- Realize I am a total pushover and pull a 180.
- Start non-profit chapter with friends and learn how difficult it is.
- And learn how awesome it is.
- Decide to work in International Development.
- Apply to a million jobs in ID and community development, including totally sweet IC job that I'm sure was meant to be.
- Graduate.
- Travel to Newfoundland
- Learn a lot about self and priorities.
- End up practically running a camp I was supposed to just be a counselor at.
- Learn a lot about improvisation and leadership.
- Learn how to get my way.
- Learn my limits.
- Learn that the totally sweet IC job wasn't meant to be.
- Search for a job in Canada.
- Realize I am still way noncommittal.
- Apply for a job at a sweet Early Learning Center.
- Travel to Canada
- Cook up plan to travel the world
- Decide to actually go ahead with plan
- Settle for subbing at above mentioned Early Learning Center, to earn money for above mentioned trip.
- Learn a lot more about my age preferences and confidence in the classroom
- Realize I really did want to teach.
Friday, September 19, 2008
I am still alive.
Oh how long it has been. All the events of the past few months (graduation being the first of a long series of them) created a Meg that had no functioning brain. Sure, it reminded my lungs to accept oxygen and reject carbon dioxide and it told my heart to pump the blood through my body, but that's about as far as it went- it turned itself off otherwise as a defense mechanism. If it didn't think, I didn't have to face all the instability of my life. Which means that in the past couple of weeks, with my brain booting up again, I've been overloading on everything.
I turned to my surefire-jumpstart mode; I jerked myself out of my home environment and dropped myself down in another country. And I put myself in the same apartment as the one other person in this hemisphere who most frequently, in many ways outside of the physical, is in the same place as me. And I am opening up again. And though in some ways it is painful, it is a sweet release, and I feel alive again. So hooray for that, and I promise to be back soon with everything that comes of it all.
I turned to my surefire-jumpstart mode; I jerked myself out of my home environment and dropped myself down in another country. And I put myself in the same apartment as the one other person in this hemisphere who most frequently, in many ways outside of the physical, is in the same place as me. And I am opening up again. And though in some ways it is painful, it is a sweet release, and I feel alive again. So hooray for that, and I promise to be back soon with everything that comes of it all.
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