Part i of x

A certain kind of revelation has started to dawn on me. It's surrounded with two auras, one of hope and enlightenment, the other of fear.

The revelation: I am not my body. I just occupy my body. Desire causes suffering; by desiring to change my body shape, my chemistry, I am putting myself through no end of suffering. By wishing to improve my body, I am not improving myself, just the vessel that I travel in. By analogy, I've been thinking that I'll be a better driver if I get a new paint job.

But the inevitable follow-up, one that I've faced before when defining what I am not: If I am not X, then what am I? This is enveloped in the aura of fear, because I've been down this self-questioning path before and it's never a very pleasant one. Lots of eyes peering out from the spaces between trees.

I titled this post "Part i of x" in the sense of chapters, i.e. I don't know how many posts will unravel from this yarn ball of thought. But it has a second metaphorical meaning. I, me, this identity that I have crafted out of thoughts and memories, am just a part of an equation, one of the variables that makes up x. Or maybe, maybe it is the other way around. Maybe I am the solution made up of an equation of x's.

A sign of intelligence in animals is when they can recognize their own reflections in a mirror and not think it to be another animal. Something within me makes this ball of energy that composes me (or that I compose) into life, into an identity that can recognize itself.

Whenever I go to hippy towns like nearby Yellow Springs, I feel this rush, a magnetic pull, a sense of being where I belong. But is this fabricated? Do I feel I belong there because I want to belong there? Is it because I want to see myself living this granola-longhair-braburning-incenselighting lifestyle, because I admire this lifestyle? Is it a genuine connection to the community, or just a longing, a wayward wish that I could assume that identity?

Every month it seems I figure out one more thing that I am not. The trouble is, I don't know if it's bringing me any closer to figuring out what I am, who I am.

I could rattle off a list of details about me that will give you an accurate impression of what kind of person I am, even if you've never met me before. I'm the girl who talks to her computer, her lunch, her car, her dishwasher. I am the person who interrupts you to correct your grammar. I am the girl who sings shamelessly in the car----caraoke. I am the girl who doesn't really go out much. I am the girl who hangs out with guys and plays Dungeons and Dragons every week. I am the girl who enjoys writing papers for school. I am the girl who plays air guitar. I am the girl who, if I'm having a good day, will kick your butt at Super Smash Brothers. I am the girl who sits alone at a long table in the cafeteria. I am the girl who filled notebooks with terrible poetry. I am the girl who played with Barbies well into junior high, when almost all of my friends had stopped. I am the girl who still has stuffed animals. I am the girl who played Pretty Pretty Princess with her younger brother. I am the girl who got sent to the counselor for kissing her brother on the school bus. I am the girl who always seems to have the right words to express what you're trying to say. I am the girl who always says the wrong thing for herself. I am the girl who doesn't understand how the system works and sometimes is naive and easily manipulated. [streamofconsciousness]

I am all of these things that I can tell you, and yet I can't look at myself and say what I am. Is 20 too young to have this figured out? Am I taking my overachieving nature into the personal realm, where it might not belong?

I watched Fight Club the other night. What always happens with me is that I take these movies, these deep philosophical commentaries, far too much to heart. I can't help but be affected by them. It is perhaps the burden of being a writer. Every word, every phrase, every implied meaning matters. I see the craft behind the camera.

At one point, Brad Pitt's character says: "Self-improvement is masturbation."
That line resonated with me. I can't stop thinking about it. It spurred this latest breakdown and search for truth. It's such a crude truth that I don't know if I can handle it. It is pushing me into this whirlpool of thought.

I heard Supertramp's "The Logical Song" on the radio today. That too resonated with me. (Here's the song in video form:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBAasek8NR4)

CHORUS
" There are times when all the world's asleep,
the questions run too deep
for such a simple man.
Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned
I know it sounds absurd
but please tell me who I am. "

How absurd is that really? It might as well be my new anthem.

I was looking through older posts and saw something that I said I'd come back to, but never came back to. It was at the bottom of my list of Rules to Live By. 

If completing a job, an action, etc. is futile, don't do it.

This refers to my habit of dropping things if they start to seem not worth the effort. For instance, if I'm playing a competitive game with friends and doing very poorly at it, I'd rather drop out of the game than keep playing until I lose. If I'm trying to learn a new skill but just not picking it up, I'd rather forget about it than push myself to try.

And yet I call myself an overachiever. Quelle paradox. (No idea if that's correct French, and don't particularly care.)

I don't know why I do this. I don't know what my measurement values for Worth are, i.e. what makes an effort "worth it."

It seems, just from superficial analysis, that I quit when I know I can't win. Or at least, when I'm convinced that I can't win. I enjoy competing in fields where I feel competent, but I hate competing when my skill level is considerably lower than that of my opponents. This generally makes me a poor sport, and is probably why I never got involved in competitive sports.

Even playing games of Boccia with my family (not because we're bourgeouis, but because we're European) often turned sour when I realized I wasn't doing well. I started sulking, sometimes stormed off from the game, and often got a stern talking-to from my parents.

I guess I'm incapable of enjoying competition. I guess it's a superiority complex. I hate losing, and I don't see a point in finishing an activity or game if I know I'm just going to lose. I can't enjoy the experience for what it is. I can't just have fun with friends and family. I take all games and competition seriously.

Recently we rented the Sonic vs. Mario Olympics game for Wii. I started playing it and realized that I'm not very good at it because I'm just not that great with the motor skills required for video games, especially those that require me to do a different motion with each hand. So after playing it a few times I decided that it wasn't worth it to buy it, even though I could feasibly practice and get better.

I guess it comes down to that, too: I decide what things I'm willing to practice and get better at, and which ones I should quit while I'm behind. But that's in the long-term sense of things.

Why can't I enjoy a simple poker game if I'm losing all the bets? Why can't I go out with friends and play pool without getting mad when the game's not going well? (That said, I've noticed with pool that I play better when I'm angry.) Why can't I do anything without keeping score, even mentally? Why do I have to take everything so seriously, and get pouty when things don't go my way? I've never thought of myself as a competitive person, but now I see that's the opposite of the truth. I'm hyper-competitive. Everything is a competition.

My motivation is controlled by the thought of "Why bother?"
And if I can't find a satisfactory answer to that, then... I don't bother.

I've had all this info stored away in my head and now I've decided to dump it on my blog, because that way I can reference it later and add to it without taking up precious space in my brain. o.O

WEDDING PLANS!!!!

I want a cream-colored dress, something simple that compliments my body no matter what shape I'm in at the time. I will wear my hair down, or in a French braid. Shawn's tux will be dark gray--a recommendation from a photographer friend. General wedding colors will be purple and cream with silver accents.

My bridesmaids will wear purple--since it's a fall wedding, probably a dark purple. (My second choice color would be a dark copper.) I have decided on two people in my bridal party. We haven't said how many people on each side of the wedding party, so I still have potential slots open.

Our cake will be in the wedding colors and structured entirely out of cupcakes, with one small round cake on top for us to cut. I'd like to find a bunny & bear cake topper somewhere. Flavor? I have no idea. Maybe carrot.

I want Queen's "You're My Best Friend" and "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" each to play at some point during the reception. Shawn's and my first dance will be to Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight." No decision yet on the live band vs. DJ issue. I kind of want a DJ just because I don't want to hear crappy cover versions of the songs we choose. Shawn's more on the live band side.

Outdoors would be our ideal, especially since we're looking at a fall wedding--fall in Ohio is beautiful, and we usually get an Indian summer that lasts well into October. We've pondered having it at John Bryan State Park in Yellow Springs. Clifton Gorge is a dream vision at that time of year. If not there, then... well, we have plenty of other parks around. But even if we do move it indoors, it will NOT be a church wedding!

Reception... I have almost nothing in mind, mostly because I've only ever been to three receptions that I know of, and I was very young and not paying attention to what a reception actually IS. Luckily I'll have Shawn's brother's wedding in October to study from. We've considered having LaRosa's cater, but that's just one idea.

I still need ideas for table centerpieces and wedding favors.

I think it would be really cool if I could get some Eidelweiss flowers in my bouquet, but I don't even know if you can get those in the states. As for other flowers, I like pretty much any variety of lily. I don't think flowers are going to be a huge deal at our wedding because we're not really that kind of couple.

We are still hashing things out on whether we want a Justice of the Peace to do the service, or a Unitarian minister. There are strong feelings on both sides. I am considering having our Fellowship as a potential indoor location, if we decide to move the wedding that way.

Honeymoon... knowing us, we'll probably go camping. That's another thing we really haven't thought about much.

So. There's everything that I've been stocking up in my head, now down in words. Let's see what else I come up with before the real serious planning starts.

I tried to imagine someone actually walking up and asking me that. And it was hard. My imaginary self stared back at this person, mouth open but silent, caught off guard. If there's one thing I'm not good at, it's asking for help.

What do I need? And specifically, what do I need that someone else could help me achieve?

There are lots of little things that I could use. Car repairs. More money. More time. Someone to do my chores for me. Nicer weather. More sleep. More chances to see friends and family that haven't seen me in a while. Less doubt. Less distractions. Less conflict. Less drama.

But what do I need from another person?

In the end, it comes down to...

I need someone who will listen to me whine, bitch, vent, and otherwise complain about the world without judging, without saying that I'm exaggerating, without patronizing me.

I need someone who will reassure me when things are getting tough. I try to be as optimistic as I can, but when things are only getting worse, I will admit it's hard to keep the bright face on. Sometimes I do it for others, to make them feel better, to make them think I have confidence that I really lack. Sometimes I do it to trick myself into believing it even when I couldn't be more uncertain. (must.not.cry.at.work.)

I need someone around whom I can completely be myself. I don't need people who will judge me, or who I have to check my behavior around. Right now I can really only be me, whatever that is, when I'm completely alone.

I need someone who doesn't have any expectations of me, positive or negative.

I need someone who doesn't try to influence me toward their own side of the fence, their own direction; who just encourages me on the path I'm on and warns me when I look like straying.

I need an allweather friend. Consistency and dependability.

I need someone who will challenge me and remind me when I'm straying from my own path or doing something that is going to hurt me in the long run.

I need forgiveness.

I need advice. (I always find I give myself the best advice when I'm trying to advise other people. I only realize my own wisdom when others need it.)

I need intimacy, someone who will hear all of my dirtiest secrets without judging them or using them against me. Physical intimacy, too. No distance.

I need someone who won't call me emo when I relate with song lyrics and poetry and art more than I do with anything practical, pragmatic, and concrete.

I need gentle guidance.

I need someone who will adjust my perspective and give me periodic reality checks.

I need someone who will remind me not to bite off more than I can chew and maybe perform the Heimlich when I start choking.

I need a partner.

I need someone to sit on my shoulder and pinch me whenever I'm about to do something really really really really stupid or make a big mistake. I could have really used this about two years ago.

I need forgiveness.

And right now, thanks to trying to answer this question thoroughly, I need a hug.

es la unica cosa que puedo hacer
demostrar el gesto fuerte, la cara de madera
los ojos que no pueden ver el mal
los labios que solo permiten palabras de esperanza
el piel impermeable, que no tolera las lagrimas

es lo que puedo hacer
cuando la Vida se determina en peorar
cuando el dinero se acaba
cuando los amigos estan lejos
cuando todo es oscuro

necesito hacer mas
pero que mas puedo hacer?
no tengo las soluciones.
no tengo respuestas.
no tengo la varita magica

nadie
nadie puede hacer lo que necesito
solo puedo depender en mi mismo

pero cuando yo lo miro,
veo nada. veo cosas falsas, esperanza falsa,
mentiras que me digo.

veo la fachada comienza a desmenuzar y
una lagrima solo escapa por la grieta

it's the only thing i can do

to show the strong expression, the wooden face

the eyes that can't see bad things

the lips that only permit words of hope

the waterproof skin that doesn't tolerate tears

it's what i can do

when Life is determined to get worse

when the money runs out

when the friends are distant

when everthing is dark

i need to do more,

but what more can i do?

i don't have the solutions

i don't have the answers

i don't have the magic wand.

nobody

nobody can do what i need done

i can only depend on my self.

but when i look at it,

i see nothing. i see false things, false hope,

lies that i tell myself.

i see the facade begin to crumble,

and a single tear escapes through the crack