Do Not Feed the Ego

I'm thinking there should be a sign outside of my cage. It would say

Do not feed the Ego. Overfeeding the Ego will lead to a dependence on compliments and flattery, a diet that is known to cause narcissism and unnecessary pride. The owner prefers that the Ego be kept in a state of constant starvation and weakness, as to keep it from causing problems. Thank you for your consideration.

                                                                       


Reading back, I'm realizing that my previous posts are really dry. Even I have trouble reading them. So I guess I'll try not to complicate things, and write with more of my emotion than my intellect.

(The above should be read as: "I'm sorry for trying to sound smart. I'll stop trying to sound smart now.")

Oh Deep Down Down

I have seen myself progress, in recent months, mentally into a state of constant vigilance, in trying to regulate the topic of my thoughts. Everyday, I find myself teetering on the edge of two thought extremes: deep and shallow. And upon realizing I had delved too long in the shallow region, I would force shame upon myself, and indulge in the inherent hypocrisy of what I said not lining up with what I really thought.

Deep, in the sense I think of it, concerns thoughts that demonstrate a clearer understanding of all facets of a topic, and are focused on topics that are of greater significance to humans than other shallower ones. These 'shallower ones', then, are thoughts focused on the immediate and the selfish, and often demonstrate a lack of understanding. I confess that I believed the two to be opposites, that you were either the one wrote books and gave speeches, or the one whose greatest fear was a B in Spanish, and who only ever wanted to watch movies and party.

Of course, my version of deep thinking was centered around a Christian perspective, and the 'greater significance' I just wrote about related to what God called me to be, and what it meant and looked like to follow Jesus. To think of shallower things would just serve to distract from Him, meaning they would be nothing more than idols. With this spiritual mandate to remember Jesus in everything, to have his Spirit guide me in all my actions and thoughts, I was considerably harsher on myself. Because apparently, it wasn't just myself I was disappointing, but my Heavenly Father.

In a moment of introspection, I decided to take a look at the words themselves. Shallow and Deep. The words themselves imply a metaphor of physical depth. More specifically, they can be applied to water. There is the shallow of tidepools and beaches, and then there is the immeasurable depth of the open ocean. The metaphor applies because the shallows take much less effort to access, but the deeps will yield treasures untold, if one knows where to look.

I'd like, then, to compare the human situation to that of a diver's. And on deep sea dives, he knows that he can't stay down for very long. Something about bubbles forming in the blood. I think, as naturally as a diver must come up for air, we also must return to the shallower things. I also think God understands these limits of the human body, but encourages us to continue, to go for longer stretches and go deeper than we've ever been before.

In the Christian faith, there is no room for shame or lasting guilt. I believe that part of our lives, poisonous and stress-inducing, is taken up when we traded our yoke with Christ, who took it with Him to the cross. Shame and guilt are then replaced with conviction    a call to action instead of a call to self-pity. And the healing process happens to take time. While I am being rescued from the monotonous cycle of focusing on idols, feeling shameful is only going to slow that process down.

I am also too quick to judge those I deem 'shallow'. Judging in any sense is something to avoid, but I guess this gives extra perspective on it. If I decide not to be so harsh on myself, then I should do the same for others.
We are, after all, all in the same boat here.

Another Feeling

 
This one's a long one.

 Feeling #7
                        
News first hits. Time slows down, and heart rate speeds up. Somewhere in your brain, it is decided that the gravity of the situation is too much to handle at the moment. So it lets it leak in little by little. You walk away, and time picks up its pace, but heart keeps its momentum. From the outside, its beats could be mistaken for happy or excited. But each heartbeat, instead of energizing and uplifting, just kind of echoes.

Life continues. But you are kept detached. How can everything go on as it should be, when inside my world is falling apart? You don't think your friends notice, but every pause in conversation you catch yourself staring out, lost in thought. You find the sick impulse to laugh. At everything, at exactly how it turned out. Maybe you are going insane.

You look back, and can't remember when. But you know it's finally dawned on you. You couldn't even call it pain, because pain brings clarity. Sometimes realization. First you try numbness. Grabbing onto anything that might bring the sweet relief of distraction. But while they used to work, that was before. Now nothing can stop your thoughts from tossing and turning.

Next you try wishful thinking. It's damn near impossible, but maybe it'll turn out this way. Or this way. You start taking the little things and distorting them, so that they'll somehow lead to something less devastating. This part's dangerous. Because you know that when it doesn't turn out that way, it will hurt that much more. Hope sets you up for a harder fall. But you can't help it.

Here is where you use your own unique coping mechanism. The burden on your back is inescapable, but you find a way. You get creative. And it always almost works.

Somewhere down the line from there is acceptance. Getting over it by finding that there are things much more valuable to live for. That to wallow in the past is a waste of life and energy.
At least I think so. I actually wouldn't know.

I'm not there yet.

Also Written 3/12/10

  
Ugh I hate this. NO ONE IS BLOGGING.

I'm not talking about picture blogging, or summaries of today's events, or shallow complaints. It's not like there's anything wrong with them, I'm just hungry for something with a little more substance. I'm talking about the desperate need to find some outlet for deep personal or empathetic pain, and coming to grips with the flaws of humanity, and our own ignorance, prejudice, and brokenness. I want to be let in, I want to attempt to carry a burden far too heavy for anyone to hold alone without crushing themselves.

I want people to give up this stupid idea of putting up a front to convince everyone they have everything together. In a way I want to prove to myself I'm not the only one whose breaking on the inside. Whose tired of setting up these walls, distancing myself from anyone and anything that could potentially hurt me.

I don't think that's selfish of me to want. Because its not 'satisfying' to me when I read these, it doesn't make me feel better about myself. Twelve times out of thirteen, problems and issues are left open-ended, and I'm left with an uneasy tension deep down in my chest. I'd much rather have that feeling than this one. The feeling of separation and shallow talk. Like being on the outside looking in.

Please tell me you feel the same.

Written 3/12/10

                   
The first of my hiatus-written posts! Enjoy.
                             
I have no idea when I'll post this, so it might be a while since I got grounded from going to church on Fridays for getting a D on my progress report. But right now, I'm sitting home alone on a Friday night. Pouting.

In all honesty, I was pretty pissed. You've read all the posts from my last blog documenting my personal vendetta against super-studying-no-lifers that are all-too-common in school today. Or maybe all that resentment was really directed towards myself. Maybe I was really scared that I was wasting my school years, so I desperately needed this excuse to reassure myself that I was doing okay. Maybe.

Back to the present. What gave her the right? Why didn't she understand that school wasn't worth the stress, and that grades are just the flawed system that keeps us reaching for something that is, ultimately, completely unrelated to test and essay scores?

[Yes, I do know how pretentious I sound. Work with me for a bit.]

So let me set up the scene a bit. Dad comes upstairs and asks to talk to me    a foreboding sign in itself from the man who is only ever sleeping or watching TV. I generalize for dramatic effect. He talks to me about how he got the email for the first of the second semester progress reports, and how he is worried that I am losing my 'balance'. A mischievous thought materializes in the back of my mind, matter-of-factly mentioning that he's never before shown any interest in my grades at school, and that this was a last-minute opportunistic attempt at showing he cared. I suppress that thought.

My mom, in the other room, overhears that magic letter, and demands an explanation. Upon hearing said explanation, she explodes into loud-and-in-your-face insults and multiple variations on 'you're not working hard enough'. I also exaggerate for dramatic effect. She ends by saying something along the lines of 'if you can't get your priorities straight, I don't think you can go on Fridays to have fun.' My heart falls like a rock. I hold back some very angry words that are on the verge of spewing out and making things worse. I storm my way upstairs in typical angsty teenager fashion.

You can't do this. You can't mess with the schedule. Everything was going well. The system was working. You can't just change these things. You can't.

So this is where I am right now. On this new course, just a little ways off from this unwelcome change. And, as if to further emphasize the change, I feel busy for the first time. Too many things to prepare for, too many dates to remember. Even worse, I might have to start studying for AP Bio. However will I survive!?
                                                                                                                
But really, it's not that I'm resentful. In some ways it was preventable, in others it was bound to happen. And it's not that I'm feeling this steadfast confidence and faith in God's divine plan.
I'm just kind of here.

It's Been a While

                                               
All around I sense a phenomenon that I definitely also see in myself. An emotional callousness, a general unfeeling. A people that used to be brimming with passion, are now at a loss of what to do with themselves. It might be that the trend started just recently. Or, the explanation I think more likely, that it's been going on for a while and I've only just realized. Because I've finally begun to peek my eyes over the giant mirror I've used to separate me from everyone else. In simpler terms, I'm starting to get over myself.

They say trials and hard times are the times when character is truly tested. Like a storm or an earthquake testing the foundation of that house you just built. My storm, however, is a silent one. I think I would actually prefer one that was more visible, more catastrophic. Then I might be able to complain, to gather sympathy from my peers. Or with a less negative spin, share some of the problems I'm going through with friends, and maybe get support and advice from them.

By silent, I mean its not disastrous or anything. My issue is specific to spring break, since I now have hours of free time. And I have problems figuring out what to do during that time. The first impulse I get upon waking up is to get on the computer, and waste entire days on things too nerdy and embarrassing to admit. It doesn't seem like anything worth complaining about, since no one's getting hurt but myself, and the only thing lost is time.

But to me, it's a serious issue. I go to bed at night with tired eyes and a tired mind, and am forced to confront what I've done. My everything, my all the time, has been promised to God. Following Christ is an all-consuming pursuit, and is not to be set aside, to be picked up again after I'm finished doing what I want for a while.

That is why spending all this time watching videos or playing games transforms from a harmless past time, into a grievous offense. He loves and trusts me enough to plant a little of Himself in me, His passion, His plan, His Spirit. I accepted that, and then ignored them by trying to distract myself for hours at a time. I wasted Time, which isn't something I can claim to be my own, but is a gift. And it isn't something we should be afraid of running out on us, but rather of wasting it. There's so many things I could've done during this past week, but are now just unchangeable "what-ifs" of the past. I could also have just done nothing, resting from work and avoiding distraction, and the time wouldn't be wasted.

I honestly suck at being alone, because that's where I start making terrible decisions. But in the past, writing blogs became an alternative to some of the other crap I would get sucked into. So I guess I'm back. As a sort of attempt to keep my alone self in check. It's funny, because while most people struggle with being too busy, I struggle with too much free time.

Well, I'm glad to be back. I'm honestly excited to return to this creative medium I've set up. I ended the last blog a little too dramatically, so I hope I can start being more real with myself. Plus, I've got some stuff I wrote during my hiatus ready to publish, so expect new stuff soon! We'll see where I go from here.