Perceptions

I like to think of myself as a warm person. I used to think that I come off as a warm person. Fairly outgoing, or at least friendly. Now, I'm not so sure.

I'm not a person who is naturally cheerful and gregarious and so on. I can make an effort to be these things. I often do...but when I find no reason to be particuarly charismatic, I just don't. I feel like my non-charismatic self can be seem as somewhat cold. Withdrawn. It's not true, though. I care about things, even though my expression and body language might not indicate it. When I first get thrown into a group of strangers (or a group of people including people I don't know very well), I have two different options:

1) Act outgoing, friendly and energetic.
2) Sit back, be quiet, observe.

Which of these two options I act on can depend on a variety of things. For one, my mood. If I'm in a bad mood, I will generally opt for number 2. If I don't feel like making idle chat with other people, I'm exceptionally good at making that clear. Non-verbal signals are very effective in such situations.

If I'm having a great day, I am much more likely to opt for number 1. When I am inclined to have some human interaction, I'll begin chat with aquaintances about the weather, a sarcastic comment or something similar. Usually with the purpose of amusing them or making them smile. Often it works. Sometimes it doesn't. Hopefully my mood is high enough that it won't really matter.

Another distinction that factors into my choice of action is whether I see my interaction leading to a deeper friendship, or if I expect to never see them again, or perhaps only see them in a specific, controlled environment (such as French class).

So many different distinctions could be made, but I'll stop analyzing my decisions for a moment to touch upon a slightly different aspect of this topic...

Often when I'm uncomfortable around people, or feel the need to make some small contribution to keep from being the antisocial one in the corner, I resort to sarcasm. It's funny. To me, at least. But it has occurred to me recently, that when I use sarcasm, I can come off as kind of a jerk.

I am honestly not sure how I feel about this revelation. A part of me doesn't care. A part of me wonders if there are people walking around this campus thinking that I'm a jerk because they don't get sarcasm...or because they think I'm unfeeling. Maybe sometimes I am unsensitive...but I feel like I'm sensitive to people's feelings when it really matters.

I have not come to any conclusion, so don't expect one. In fact, I think I'm going to end this here and move on to bigger and better things.

Hypocrisy?

Sometimes in life, I wish that people would say exactly what they are thinking, that people would stop trying to hide behind rhetoric, behind caution, behind others. I wish that they would tell me what's going on from their point of view so that I wouldn't have to spend so much time guessing.

It might sound a bit ridiculous. No. Scratch that. It does.

The truth of the matter is that some things are better left unsaid, I suppose. Still, the idea of a truth serum is incredibly appealing. If I could ask anyone any question and receive a complete and honest answer, it would be a miracle. I'm really not sure what I'd spend my time doing. My brain would probably collapse in on itself from boredom, no longer toiling away at uncovering the hidden messages in the actions, words and tones of others.

There is something that I find even more frustrating than having to piece together random flashes of time and form some idea of what another person is thinking or feeling -- it is when someone is so obviously thinking or feeling something, but they simply refuse to admit it, to say anything. People are so intent upon keeping up some facade that everyone can see past. It drives me nuts. Pretending. Why? Because they think it will keep things from getting messy. Because it's easier to just imply things than be blunt or bold. Because we are so intent upon giving people what we think they want to hear.

And the best part -- I do this all the time. So....good. I'm a hypocrite.

I'd better rest my eyes

'Cause I'm growing weary of

This point you've been trying to make

So rather than imply

Why don't you just verbalize

All the things that you're trying to say

Why don't you

Come right out and say it?

Even if the words are probably gonna hurt

I'd rather have the truth

Than something insincere

Why don't you

Come right out and say

What it is you're thinking

Though I'm thinking it's not what I wanna hear

I may go into this topic more later, but my thoughts are incredibly jumbled -- much like this entry.

"Calm Down"

Yes. I've hit "that point."

The point where I want to write a blog entry, but I have no idea what I want to write it about. I hate that point. But here I am. I suppose I'll just let my thoughts flow out onto the screen as they will...but I give you no guarantee that they will be coherent or fluid or interesting at all.

It's always been one of my pet peeves having someone else tell me how I'm feeling. I'll try to give a sort of example to illustrate what I mean.

I'm a passionate person. Some people mistake this "passion" for anger. In other words, when I'm discussing something passionately, they assume that I'm upset. And upon deciding that I'm upset, they feel the need to tell me to "calm down." Along with the fact that I dislike when people tell me to "calm down" when I'm actually upset, I despise when people tell me to "calm down" when I'm simply being passionate. Then I try my hardest to inform them that I am not, in fact, upset. The problem is that by this point, they've presumed to know more about my own emotions than I do, which makes me upset. It's a vicious cycle. And, even if I managed to deny the fact that I'm upset in a very calm way, they often continue on..."Yes, you are."

Excuse me? I've just told you that I'm not upset. It's not as though determining my emotions is some fun guessing game in which I'm trying to deceive those around me. To have someone tell you that they know you better than you know yourself is slightly, if not entirely, condescending.

If I tell you I'm feeling a certain way, that's how you need to assume I feel. It could be that I'm not telling you the whole truth, or that I'm disguising my feelings for a good reason, but that's very rarely the case with my close friends. If you can't trust my own opinion of how I'm feeling, then maybe I don't trust you enough to share them. If you do trust me, you'll just accept what I say...and accept that I'll tell you my full meaning when I feel comfortable. I don't set out to hide things.

This rant isn't really meant to frighten anyone from ever asking me how I feel or tell me I'm looking a little out of it. It's sort of a releasing of frustrations built up over years of people "calming me down."

Ha. This is what I meant when I said I might come off as a mean person.

Friendship

I have to admit that trying to define "friendship" is not something that plagues my thoughts. I don't usually think about it. In fact, any dictionary definition of the word would probably seem too cold for me to use. Something I have thought about, though, is why I'm friends with the people I'm friends with.

What drew us together? Why do we remain friends? Why do friendships change? Where is the line between friends and acquaintances?

The constant switching of environments and groups of people that has happened in my life over the past six months has caused me to ponder these things. Now, if I wanted to simply answer my own question and get over it, I would just say "God has placed these people in my life..." and so on and so forth. That's a perfectly fine answer, but it neither satisfies my curiosity nor makes a good blog.

The other day I was looking up C. S. Lewis quotes, because he is the man. As I glanced down the page I came across this one...and it spoke to me.

Friendship arises out of mere companionship when two or more of the companions discover that they have in common some insight or interest or even taste which the others do not share and which, till that moment, each believed to be his own unique treasure (or burden). The typical expression of opening Friendship would be something like, "What? You too? I thought I was the only one."

Friends are the ones who make us realize we're not alone in the world. Levels of friendship increase the more common bonds, experiences, thoughts, feelings you share...as soon as someone understands you in a way that you thought noone could it either creates a friendship or reaffirms one you have. Now, whether that never goes beyond a polite friendship, or you become best friends forever, or are close for only a short period of time...it has significance.

Ever since I first watched Anne of Green Gables I've been on a neverending search to seek out "kindred spirits" in the world. And as I sit here typing this, I realize that I've been blessed to find so many...some in the unlikliest of places.

To be understood is a wonderful thing.

I really don't think I've answered even half of the questions I posed in this blog. That's fairly common, though. I usually have more questions than answers...and that's okay. It's how the world is supposed to be, I think.

Regret

This summer during one of the days at camp, we had some down time and we were just sort of sitting around talking and someone came up with a conversation topic: "What is the most pain you've ever been in?"

There were various answers to the question, involving broken bones, pierced skin, and my own answer -- a kidney infection. Now, I think that the question was expecting responses similar to these...full of physical pain, blood, guts. But now that the summer is over, I've come to realize that there is much worse pain than any kind of physical ailment that might befall me.

Regret.

It's honestly the most painful feeling I've ever experienced. It's just one of those feelings that's impossible to describe, too. I'm sure that anyone reading this has had the feeling at some point in their lives, though maybe not to an incredibly painful level.

God grants me forgiveness the moment I repent and ask for it. The very moment my soul seeks His forgiveness, the sin is erased in His eyes. Instantaneous. No questions asked. Amazing.

Seeking the forgiveness of those you've wronged can be humbling (and should be). It can be difficult. It can be hard. But I'm not sure I've ever asked for forgiveness from someone else and had them reject my apology.

The single hardest person to get forgiveness from is myself. That's what regret is at its most severe -- an unwillingness to forgive one's self. It's something I've been struggling with quite a bit over the past week or so. The details don't really matter. The question I have is that if the creator of the universe will forgive me and see me as holy and blameless, then why should I have such a difficult time forgiving myself?

As I was struggling with this very question, a hymn popped into my head. When I was alone I would hum or sing it to myself. In those moments when I was going through it over and over and over, I felt a peace fall over me. Then, this past Sunday while visiting a new church with some friends, I was sitting there during the service and the next thing I know, we're beginning to sing the very song I'd been repeating in my head for the past few days.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet,

though trials should come,

Let this blest assurance control,

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,

And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!

My sin, not in part but the whole,

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;

The trump shall resound,

and the Lord shall descend,

Even so, it is well with my soul.

I really can't say it any better than that.

Occupation

Summer's end is near, and it's time for reflection, yes...but it's also time for dreaming of what is to come. Perhaps that's why I've been so caught up with expectations in my head--because the inevitable result of seeing where you've been is wondering where you'll be a year, two years, ten years from now. This is particularly true in my own life, because I'm an idealist.

I look to the future. I have expectations. I have dreams. I have wants, needs and...I have an idea of where I want to go and what I want to do.

The most asked question this summer: "So...you're a communication major...what exactly are you planning on doing with that?"

My response: "So...you have a boring job...what exactly are you planning on doing with that?"

[hint: you can substitute any number of things into that question. Whatever applies in the given situation, but as long as you parallel theirs, it should come of as at least mildly witty]

Except that I never actually say that. Unfortunately, I'm a polite person most of the time. And most of these people asking me are really just curious, or don't know me well enough to have a meaningful conversation with me...so to respond with such an angry reply (haha, "angry comedy") would be...less than gracious.

My actual response: "I don't know. I'm not worried about it."

This is an honest answer. I don't know what I'm going to do with my degree in Communication Studies. Note that all of this is seemingly in contrast to the statement I made earlier : "I have an idea of where I want to go and what I want to do."

I know what I want to do with my life, but unfortunately, there's no real category I can name, no "occupation" that I could list, that will be able to describe it quite as eloquently as my own imagination. Not to mention the idea of making a living off of what I want to do is possibly impossible.

I'd like to help people.
reader: "really? It's my goal in life to hurt as many people as possible."

I don't have many aspirations...except that I want to save the world.
reader: "yeeeeah...that's gonna happen."

But I'd like to save it one person at a time.
reader: "Good. Even more realistic."

If I could be paid to do anything I wanted, I'd be paid to help other people reach their goals.
reader: "Uh-huh.........what?"

I know so many people who know exactly what they want to do with their lives. They know where their gifts are. They know...what their goals are. I'm not gonna lie, some of them are lofty goals. Some of them seem to be out on the edge of reality, just on the farthest tip of the reachable, just within their grasp. What an incredible journey they have ahead of them.

I know other people who have no clue what to do with their lives. I know people who are wasting all of the amazing gifts that God's given them. I know people who are using many of their gifts, but just don't see for themselves the one gift that could make all the difference. I know people who are missing the one thing in their lives that could save them for an eternity.

I want to help people reach those barely reachable goals. I want to make people's dreams come true. I want to find ways to push others to their utmost potential. I want to dig where other people are too scared to dig, to change what other people are too worried to change, to make a difference.

I want to be inspiring.

(And in my free time, I'd like to be paid to write down my thoughts. Ha.)

Who am I to say that I know what's best for these people? Why should I consider myself able to help people reach those goals? Shouldn't people be able to help themselves? What about people that don't want help?

It's a dream. Not a reality...but I refuse to dream and sit idly by while others reach for the stars.

I have a feeling that my actual career when I grow up will involve helping others (at least, I hope so...), but this desire in me to change the world...well, to change the people of the world...I think it will have to become a part of who I am, not a just part of what my job is.

Everyone wants to make a difference...and I want to help "everyone" do it.

How's that for an occupation?

Starin' down the stars
Jealous of the moon
You wish you could fly
But you're stayin' where you are
There's nothin' you can do
If you're too scared to try

Expectation

It's a dangerous word. It really is. I consider it to be my downfall.

And what's worse- it's inescapable. I'm not sure how much control we have over our own expectations, but I do know that we have no control over whether or not we have them. Some people claim to have "zero expectations." They may not realize it, but they are liars.

When you open your eyes, you expect to see. When you reach out and touch something, you expect to feel it. When you drive down the street, you expect to make it to your final destination without crashing. The truth of the matter is that you may not see, you may not feel, you may crash. Does that mean you shouldn't expect any of these things? Absolutely not. But where do you draw the line?

Perhaps if we break our expectations into categories (which we often do subconsciously) it will help us to assess the situation more clearly.

[R]ealistic Expectations versus [U]nrealistic Expectations

• When I wake up tomorrow, I will go downstairs and there will be something in the kitchen that I can eat for breakfast. [R]
• When I wake up tomorrow, the door will open and my mother will walk in with a tray of my favorite breakfast foods prepared especially for me and serve me breakfast in bed. [U]
• Before I leave for school on the 24th, I will have all of my things packed. [R]
• I will have all of my things packed at 9 p.m. on the night before I leave for school so that I might ensure that I get a full night's rest. [U]
• I will enjoy some of my classes some of the time. Others I may not enjoy at all. [R]
• I will love all of my classes, because I picked them and I heard good things about the professors. [U]
• Upon my return to Grove City, I will be reunited with friends, be on the same campus, etc, but things will be very different from last year's experience. [R]
• Upon my return to Grove City, everything I enjoyed about last year will be exactly as I remember it, and all of the downsides will be non-existent. [U]

Now. My mother could potentially burst into my room at 10 a.m. tomorrow with a tray of breakfast foods. I could end up packing ahead of time. I could end up adoring every class. My experience this year could be near perfect. But if I were a gambler, I'd stake thousands and thousands of dollars on none of that coming true.

However, the set of realistic expectations is much more vague than those that are unrealistic. And I have an overactive imagination. Despite the fact that my rational side would argue that I should accept the reality and think no more on the subject, in some cases, my brain simply won't allow it. At the same time, I know that to hope for those unrealistic expectations would just be setting myself up for failure. Failure isn't very appealing. So where does my mind go? Pessimism.

• I will be woken up early (undoubtedly by the piano being played, or the dog barking, or a neighbor's lawn mower). I will have a headache. I will trudge downstairs only to find that we're out of milk, eggs and bread. [U]
• I will be so behind in packing, that I'll rush and forget everything I meant to bring, including my contacts, glasses and all of my pants. [U]
• I will absolutely despise every class I have and fail them all. [U]
• I will return to school to find that every friend I thought I had hates me, and I hate being at college. [U]

The conclusion I've come to is that unrealistic expectations can, themselves, be divided into two different categories -- Optimism and Pessimism.

The question I have is this: Which is better?

If you're optimistic, you will have a more positive attitude. You will be encouraging to others. You will sometimes have your expectations be met, and will use that affirmation to fuel the belief in further positive (potentially unrealistic) expectations. Often your expectations will not be met, but you won't let that get you down...until it happens one too many times and you see your bubble of hope disintegrate before your eyes.

If you're pessimistic, you will have a more negative attitude. You may be called a "downer" if you express your expectations aloud. Your expectations will sometimes be met, and you will use those unpleasant outcomes to fuel your belief in further negative (potentially unrealistic) expectations. Most of the time your expectations will be surpassed, and most of the time you'll enjoy it, but continue to expect the worst...until the world hands you too many happy endings and you begin to expect a bit more.

These are extremes. More than personality types, I believe that they are attitudes. I struggle between which is better -- to feel good now and be disappointed later, or to expect less and be pleasantly surprised.

Too often I expect too much from the world. I expect too much from myself. And worst of all, I expect too much from other people.

Too often I express too much doubt. I'm too hard on myself. And worst of all, I don't trust other people.

It's a fine wire to walk. Dangerous. And after all of this contemplation and self-analysis, what end have I come to? What great truth about life have I uncovered? That I need to listen to myself much less, and God much more.

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Matthew 6:34