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After writing about my resolutions, a friend told me about her practice of writing out things she’d learned during the year past. I consider this a more challenging exercise than making resolutions because I'm always on guard to learn and grow, additionally I'm in school. Moreover, being in school has limited my interactions with people, which create situations to review.
Okay. Here we go – in brief… I could write ten things for every day of the year, but these are the first few to come to mind.
I used to think statements like “I find you fascinating.” “Want to go get a drink?” and, “Hey, lets go camping!” were come-ons, pick-up lines. I learned this year that they are not.
At first, I joked that I was celibate for religious observation, just to make myself feel better about losing my mighty powers of irresistible cuteness. Then it happened. A whole year passed. Half intentionally, half unintentionally I have lived a year of celibacy. As it has turned out, it has been for the better as it has been useful to see how I respond to acts of intimacy when I have a clear mind to check the effects of intimate engagements against.
Observing how I respond to intimacy has been interesting. It does not happen quite often enough to have good data, but at least I can see it now. I have learned is that I do not know how to interpret other people’s expressions of intimacy. By intimacy I mean, closeness, friendship, belonging, togetherness; not sexual in any way. I perceive the intimate affection as sexual intentions, though they are not, they fill me up and carry me away with ecstatic romanticized ideas.
Coming full circle, to protect myself from misinterpreting intimacy, I have made my personal space bubble huge, too huge; preventing anybody who might actually like to get to know me better in any capacity from getting near enough to do so. The lesson, let some air out, make my bubble smaller.
I’ve learned that stuff really is only stuff. When you die, what is special and holds magic for you is just crap to someone else. If you want stuff to retain its magic you must have someone to bequeath it to. It is almost enough to make me want to have kids.
Tenacity trumps talent. Having the ability to write a good artist statement helps.
I’m super smarty-pants.
Reflecting on a full year, without good notes is a bit of a stretch, I do have some blog entries to read through – most of which are complaining about boys or how much homework I have to finish. The reality is that despite my complaints I have not had time to give to another person. I have regular breaks from school, which leave me with idle time of contemplation. I do spend my breaks thinking about how I may achieve participation in reasonable relationships with others. Then classes start and I forget all about it until the next break. Perhaps there is a lesson in that as well, without complete immersion into scholarly pursuits I am still a foolish girl.
Okay. Here we go – in brief… I could write ten things for every day of the year, but these are the first few to come to mind.
I used to think statements like “I find you fascinating.” “Want to go get a drink?” and, “Hey, lets go camping!” were come-ons, pick-up lines. I learned this year that they are not.
At first, I joked that I was celibate for religious observation, just to make myself feel better about losing my mighty powers of irresistible cuteness. Then it happened. A whole year passed. Half intentionally, half unintentionally I have lived a year of celibacy. As it has turned out, it has been for the better as it has been useful to see how I respond to acts of intimacy when I have a clear mind to check the effects of intimate engagements against.
Observing how I respond to intimacy has been interesting. It does not happen quite often enough to have good data, but at least I can see it now. I have learned is that I do not know how to interpret other people’s expressions of intimacy. By intimacy I mean, closeness, friendship, belonging, togetherness; not sexual in any way. I perceive the intimate affection as sexual intentions, though they are not, they fill me up and carry me away with ecstatic romanticized ideas.
Coming full circle, to protect myself from misinterpreting intimacy, I have made my personal space bubble huge, too huge; preventing anybody who might actually like to get to know me better in any capacity from getting near enough to do so. The lesson, let some air out, make my bubble smaller.
I’ve learned that stuff really is only stuff. When you die, what is special and holds magic for you is just crap to someone else. If you want stuff to retain its magic you must have someone to bequeath it to. It is almost enough to make me want to have kids.
Tenacity trumps talent. Having the ability to write a good artist statement helps.
I’m super smarty-pants.
Reflecting on a full year, without good notes is a bit of a stretch, I do have some blog entries to read through – most of which are complaining about boys or how much homework I have to finish. The reality is that despite my complaints I have not had time to give to another person. I have regular breaks from school, which leave me with idle time of contemplation. I do spend my breaks thinking about how I may achieve participation in reasonable relationships with others. Then classes start and I forget all about it until the next break. Perhaps there is a lesson in that as well, without complete immersion into scholarly pursuits I am still a foolish girl.
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