"I am of those who like to stay late at the cafe," the older waiter said. "With all those who do not want to go to bed. With all those who need a light for the night."
I would like a clean, well-lighted place. I would like my heart to remember what it is to stand still. I would like this feeling of dread to stop stretching over me and enveloping me. It is pitch, it is fixed, it is here to stay. I don't want this. I need a light for the night.
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Saturday, August 1, 2015
Weak, and On Fire
Man. I'd like to believe there was a time when I responded to criticism with fiery resilience, and impenetrable wit, but I don't think I have. I think I am less resilient than I know. I feel weak, and on fire.
I just finished reading How Children Succeed by Paul Tough, and in between readings, in my unrelenting, very-human narcissism and self-deprecation, couldn't help but think of all the ways I did not have the very traits the author argues I should be teaching my students.
I don't have grit, or curiosity, or any of the character traits the book mentions as the "keys to success." My attention wanders after 15 minutes of sustained work, I more often feel burdened by work than curious about how to improve or do things differently, and I just don't feel like I am good at working hard. I know this is all self-fulfilling, and I know that right now I am writing a blog post instead of actually working — I know all these things! Despite knowing how my own mindset is affecting my work ethic, I can't help but indulge the procrastination, and the weakness.
I just want to be weak, sometimes. Is that okay? Can I just cradle myself in my own loneliness, my inability, and my anxiety for a day? Can I hang out in my own little cave of sadness, mopping the floor with my own tears? Can I let myself be overwhelmed by the slow and writhing pain of disappointment for a moment? Just a moment, please? (Why am I asking you if this is okay?)
I feel a little crazy sometimes. And I miss all of you who would answer "Yes! Yes, it's okay!" to all of my questions, because oddly enough, every time you have, I have always managed to leave the cave. To step out, into the sun, without catching on fire.
I just finished reading How Children Succeed by Paul Tough, and in between readings, in my unrelenting, very-human narcissism and self-deprecation, couldn't help but think of all the ways I did not have the very traits the author argues I should be teaching my students.
I don't have grit, or curiosity, or any of the character traits the book mentions as the "keys to success." My attention wanders after 15 minutes of sustained work, I more often feel burdened by work than curious about how to improve or do things differently, and I just don't feel like I am good at working hard. I know this is all self-fulfilling, and I know that right now I am writing a blog post instead of actually working — I know all these things! Despite knowing how my own mindset is affecting my work ethic, I can't help but indulge the procrastination, and the weakness.
I just want to be weak, sometimes. Is that okay? Can I just cradle myself in my own loneliness, my inability, and my anxiety for a day? Can I hang out in my own little cave of sadness, mopping the floor with my own tears? Can I let myself be overwhelmed by the slow and writhing pain of disappointment for a moment? Just a moment, please? (Why am I asking you if this is okay?)
I feel a little crazy sometimes. And I miss all of you who would answer "Yes! Yes, it's okay!" to all of my questions, because oddly enough, every time you have, I have always managed to leave the cave. To step out, into the sun, without catching on fire.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)