There is one small problem with this new job that I love, and it is, to put it simply, that it makes me feel monumentally inadequate. All day long, I hold and handle the creative works of other women. I study how they were made and I look for unusual or especially creative elements. And I often come away feeling like an uninspired lump of nothing. I mean, I am technically a Master of Fine Arts--"creative" is practically in my title. And yet, I am not making anything of my own. It makes me feel very insecure about who and what I profess to be.
The truth is (personal confession--indulge me), I spend a lot of my time feeling insecure. I don't like this about myself, but I worry about other people's opinions of me, even people I know love me. I wonder and worry quite a lot if I'm doing things "right." Any discontent I feel about anything--my clothes, my house, my weight, my blog--almost always comes out of the suspicion that someone else does it better. I know that in general, women are prone to the deadly sin of comparison (and therefore never think of ourselves as "enough"), but it's not just a comparison. It's that somehow my choices are inherently flawed because I didn't do things the way other people did--I didn't do it "right."
Sometimes I even worry about who I am: Am I nice enough? Am I too nice? Am I nice for the right reasons? Do I spend enough time with my family? With my friends? Am I being unreasonable? Am I being a pushover? Over and over, my inner dialogue second guesses everything about myself.
The practical part of me just read over that last part and rolled her eyes. Sheesh, just be who you are and stop worrying about it, she said. And I do listen to that voice most of the time. I've worked hard for more than half of my twenty-four years to be more confident and sure of decisions and myself. But there are days (especially lately, triggered by my job) when I lose that sense of who I am. Days when I stop asking what I like and only worry what other people will like. Days when I forget whose opinions actually matter. Days when I'm lost.
I told my sister-in-law the other week that sometimes we need to let ourselves cry. We need to admit to and experience our negative emotions so that we can truly move past them. But now, I'm not sure that's completely true. Yes, we do need to feel what we feel, but there is a point when it just becomes self-indulgent.
So.
I am going to battle my insecurities and reclaim my creative identity.
I have a list of projects I want to do (some of which I've already started), I have a book of writing prompts I'm going to work my way through, and I am going to work on that whole staying-confident-at-all-times thing. If I need to, I am going to make a list of things I like because I like them. (I'm thinking of that scene in Runaway Bride when Julia Roberts tries all the different kinds of eggs...) And I'm going to remind myself daily that the list of people whose opinions I should listen to is much shorter than I think it is.
I realize this was a very self-indulgent post, and I hope you'll forgive me. I also hope you know what I'm talking about--the pull of insecurity and self-doubt and push of confidence and action. If not...well, lucky you. :)
Maybe someday I will learn to speak up for my opinions a little more. Or maybe I will learn not to care what other people think. Or maybe I will finally figure out how to hang on to my identity, regardless of whose beautiful projects I am writing about.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
About this time of year...
...when the mountains are flecked with red and the days are cooling off and everything is starting to look a little faded, I get crazy homesick for Pittsburgh.
I thought I knew what autumn was when I moved out to Pittsburgh. Heck, I thought I knew what trees were. Come to find out, I had no idea. About either.
Fall in Utah is usually an event that lasts a couple of weeks but fades quickly. Back East, Fall is a process. The leaves keep their green until all of a sudden, they burst into color, vibrant and very alive. Color seeps into the trees one leaf, one branch at a time in a dizzyingly beautiful process. Nothing fades until after weeks of kaleidoscope landscapes, miles of trees in every shade and hue between maroon and apple green. Everything is vivid and bright and showy, and everything is beautiful. For someone who can't get enough of picturesque landscapes (or enough photos), it was heaven.
I realized this morning that my homesickness is fitting right now for another reason: it was exactly two years ago that I realized Pittsburgh had become home. I'd been there for one full month and I spent most of that time trying to adjust and figure out where and who I was. But then, one beautiful September afternoon as I walked home from school, I realized that I was happy. Something had clicked, and I was home. And then, about a week later, I realized I wanted to marry Tim and I'd have to leave this new home much sooner than I'd expected. I have never regretted that decision, but I do miss Pittsburgh sometimes.
I love my Utah home and mountains and I wouldn't trade them for anything...except maybe, some days, for an East coast autumn.
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I thought I knew what autumn was when I moved out to Pittsburgh. Heck, I thought I knew what trees were. Come to find out, I had no idea. About either.
Fall in Utah is usually an event that lasts a couple of weeks but fades quickly. Back East, Fall is a process. The leaves keep their green until all of a sudden, they burst into color, vibrant and very alive. Color seeps into the trees one leaf, one branch at a time in a dizzyingly beautiful process. Nothing fades until after weeks of kaleidoscope landscapes, miles of trees in every shade and hue between maroon and apple green. Everything is vivid and bright and showy, and everything is beautiful. For someone who can't get enough of picturesque landscapes (or enough photos), it was heaven.
I realized this morning that my homesickness is fitting right now for another reason: it was exactly two years ago that I realized Pittsburgh had become home. I'd been there for one full month and I spent most of that time trying to adjust and figure out where and who I was. But then, one beautiful September afternoon as I walked home from school, I realized that I was happy. Something had clicked, and I was home. And then, about a week later, I realized I wanted to marry Tim and I'd have to leave this new home much sooner than I'd expected. I have never regretted that decision, but I do miss Pittsburgh sometimes.
I love my Utah home and mountains and I wouldn't trade them for anything...except maybe, some days, for an East coast autumn.
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Thursday, September 23, 2010
The 11th Thing
(I knew I forgot something on that list...)
11. National Public Radio! I love listening to NPR when I drive to and from jobs. It makes me feel smart and informed. Today I listened to a talk show about Mormon feminists. I've heard about books, music, the current administration, the current economy, peace talks in the Middle East, Islam, religion-based search engines, genetically engineered salmon, Americans imprisoned in Iran, pirate lawyers, the Tea Party and its financial backers, the primary elections, foreclosures, and a woman who was mistaken for a whale and harpooned in Montenegro.
Oh yeah, I'm informed.
11. National Public Radio! I love listening to NPR when I drive to and from jobs. It makes me feel smart and informed. Today I listened to a talk show about Mormon feminists. I've heard about books, music, the current administration, the current economy, peace talks in the Middle East, Islam, religion-based search engines, genetically engineered salmon, Americans imprisoned in Iran, pirate lawyers, the Tea Party and its financial backers, the primary elections, foreclosures, and a woman who was mistaken for a whale and harpooned in Montenegro.
Oh yeah, I'm informed.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
10 Things I Love
1. I love my job! It's a strange and unfamiliar feeling, but I really do love it!
2. Uno. Dunno why, but it's been my favorite game lately. Probably because you can play it so quickly and not spend hours trying to get a winner.
3. Pushing Daisies. Such a funny show! It never should have been canceled. "Well, that idea might make a stupid idea feel better about itself."
4. New couch pillows. There's just something about an extra touch in a room that you've seen a thousand times to make you happy.
5. Zumba! I love that I enjoy exercising for the first time, like, ever.
6. Blueberry muffins. Gotta love a fresh muffin first thing in the morning.
7. Making my bed. That's weird, I know, but it makes me feel like everything else is so much cleaner when our bed is made.
8. Fridays. Nothing beats the feeling of knowing you don't have to go to work (as much as I love it) for two whole days.
9. Children who are quiet. Specifically, children who are quiet in my music class.
Last but not least...
10. I love Tim! He is so good to me. When I'm stressed, when I'm worried, when I'm sad, he doesn't dismiss my feelings. He just makes me feel better. And he makes me laugh. I'm so in love with him, geez.
2. Uno. Dunno why, but it's been my favorite game lately. Probably because you can play it so quickly and not spend hours trying to get a winner.
3. Pushing Daisies. Such a funny show! It never should have been canceled. "Well, that idea might make a stupid idea feel better about itself."
4. New couch pillows. There's just something about an extra touch in a room that you've seen a thousand times to make you happy.
5. Zumba! I love that I enjoy exercising for the first time, like, ever.
6. Blueberry muffins. Gotta love a fresh muffin first thing in the morning.
7. Making my bed. That's weird, I know, but it makes me feel like everything else is so much cleaner when our bed is made.
8. Fridays. Nothing beats the feeling of knowing you don't have to go to work (as much as I love it) for two whole days.
9. Children who are quiet. Specifically, children who are quiet in my music class.
Last but not least...
10. I love Tim! He is so good to me. When I'm stressed, when I'm worried, when I'm sad, he doesn't dismiss my feelings. He just makes me feel better. And he makes me laugh. I'm so in love with him, geez.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
What September 11th Means to Me
On March 4th of this year, my cousin Nigel was killed while fighting in Afghanistan as a Marine. He was killed by a roadside bomb, an IED, while escorting a detainee. That night, we gathered as a family to mourn together, to remember, to hold each other while we cried openly. There were eight of us cousins who grew up together, and it was terrible, losing a family member so suddenly and so violently. It didn't seem fair--it wasn't fair, and we miss him.
The week following Nigel's death, at a funeral attended by political leaders, Freedom Riders, and hundreds of friends and family and ward members, my sister and cousin and I sang a medley of "Homeward Bound" and "O My Father." Somehow, we made it through the song without crying until we were finished. A Marine guard had escorted my cousin's body back to the United States and had watched over him every minute, until the flag that covered his coffin was folded and given to his mother and he was laid to rest at the Salem Cemetery. Again and again, we talked about Nigel's desire to serve in the military. Since he was about three years old, that's what he wanted to do. He spent his life preparing for that, and as soon as he graduated from high school, he enlisted with the Marine Corp. I know that he was grateful for the privilege to serve his country and fight for the ideals and principles he believed in. As one of his brothers said at the funeral, "His life was not lost; it was not taken; it was given to his country."
I'm not happy that there was a war for Nigel to go to once he enlisted, and I wish we didn't still have Americans in Afghanistan fighting against terrorists. I don't always agree with the politics that came out of September 11th and the anger that still exists because of that day, but I know that the things that were worth dying for to Nigel are worth believing in.
September 11th is a day of remembrance. It's a day to remember those who were killed nine years ago, and also a day to remember those who have been killed since. It's a day when, seeing the flag at half-mast, I remember that we have something worth fighting for and something worth believing in. I miss my cousin, but I am grateful for what his sacrifice has reminded me of.
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Here are the words to the song we sang at his funeral (I am not smart enough to figure out how to do a sound clip):
In the quiet, misty morning when the moon has gone to bed,
When the sparrows stop their singing and the sky is clear and red,
When the summer's ceased its gleaming, when the corn is past its prime,
When adventure's lost its meaning--I'll be homeward bound in time.
Bind me not to the pasture, chain me not to the plow,
Set me free to find my calling, and I'll return to you somehow.
If you find it's me you're missing, if you're hoping I'll return
To your thoughts I'll soon be listening, in the road I'll stop and turn.
Then the wind will set me racing as my journey nears its end
And the path I'll be retracing will lead me homeward bound again.
Oh my father, thou who dwellest in a high and glorious place,
When shall I regain thy presence and again behold thy face?
In thy holy habitation did my spirit once reside?
In my first primeval childhood was I nurtured by thy side?
When I leave this frail existence, when I lay this mortal by,
Father, Mother, may I meet you in your royal courts in high?
Then at length when I've completed all you sent me forth to do
With your mutual approbation, let me come and dwell with you.
In the quiet misty morning, when the moon has gone to bed,
When the sparrows stop their singing, I'll be homeward bound again.
The week following Nigel's death, at a funeral attended by political leaders, Freedom Riders, and hundreds of friends and family and ward members, my sister and cousin and I sang a medley of "Homeward Bound" and "O My Father." Somehow, we made it through the song without crying until we were finished. A Marine guard had escorted my cousin's body back to the United States and had watched over him every minute, until the flag that covered his coffin was folded and given to his mother and he was laid to rest at the Salem Cemetery. Again and again, we talked about Nigel's desire to serve in the military. Since he was about three years old, that's what he wanted to do. He spent his life preparing for that, and as soon as he graduated from high school, he enlisted with the Marine Corp. I know that he was grateful for the privilege to serve his country and fight for the ideals and principles he believed in. As one of his brothers said at the funeral, "His life was not lost; it was not taken; it was given to his country."
I'm not happy that there was a war for Nigel to go to once he enlisted, and I wish we didn't still have Americans in Afghanistan fighting against terrorists. I don't always agree with the politics that came out of September 11th and the anger that still exists because of that day, but I know that the things that were worth dying for to Nigel are worth believing in.
September 11th is a day of remembrance. It's a day to remember those who were killed nine years ago, and also a day to remember those who have been killed since. It's a day when, seeing the flag at half-mast, I remember that we have something worth fighting for and something worth believing in. I miss my cousin, but I am grateful for what his sacrifice has reminded me of.
.jpg)
Here are the words to the song we sang at his funeral (I am not smart enough to figure out how to do a sound clip):
In the quiet, misty morning when the moon has gone to bed,
When the sparrows stop their singing and the sky is clear and red,
When the summer's ceased its gleaming, when the corn is past its prime,
When adventure's lost its meaning--I'll be homeward bound in time.
Bind me not to the pasture, chain me not to the plow,
Set me free to find my calling, and I'll return to you somehow.
If you find it's me you're missing, if you're hoping I'll return
To your thoughts I'll soon be listening, in the road I'll stop and turn.
Then the wind will set me racing as my journey nears its end
And the path I'll be retracing will lead me homeward bound again.
Oh my father, thou who dwellest in a high and glorious place,
When shall I regain thy presence and again behold thy face?
In thy holy habitation did my spirit once reside?
In my first primeval childhood was I nurtured by thy side?
When I leave this frail existence, when I lay this mortal by,
Father, Mother, may I meet you in your royal courts in high?
Then at length when I've completed all you sent me forth to do
With your mutual approbation, let me come and dwell with you.
In the quiet misty morning, when the moon has gone to bed,
When the sparrows stop their singing, I'll be homeward bound again.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
A Letter From Tim
Dear BYU's Financial Aid Policy Makers,
I really, really, really hate you guys right now. You are ruining my life, eating all my steak, and it's your fault I had a bad day. I would prefer to maintain a good relationship with you, but you are making that extremely difficult. To put it simply, every message from "my financial center" is like getting carnations in my email. If that isn't clear enough, here's this classic for you:
Dear Darla,
I hate your stinkin' guts. You make me vomit! You're scum between my toes.
Love,
Alfalfa (aka Tim)
P.S. I almost hope BYU loses this weekend.
Kidding.
Mostly...
I really, really, really hate you guys right now. You are ruining my life, eating all my steak, and it's your fault I had a bad day. I would prefer to maintain a good relationship with you, but you are making that extremely difficult. To put it simply, every message from "my financial center" is like getting carnations in my email. If that isn't clear enough, here's this classic for you:
Dear Darla,
I hate your stinkin' guts. You make me vomit! You're scum between my toes.
Love,
Alfalfa (aka Tim)
P.S. I almost hope BYU loses this weekend.
Kidding.
Mostly...
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Today's Score: The Mouse Warrior
A score against the mice! Last Friday, while I was home alone, I heard the tell-tale skittering that meant I had company in the kitchen. Sure enough, a small, furry something was hiding out behind the fridge. I put one of our traps behind the fridge, hoping that would take care of it, but alas! The mouse ran out and through the kitchen and back under the fridge just before I had a bowl in hand, ready to trap it should it choose to come back out.
I waited stealthily, silently, and sure enough, the demon creature came out and ran straight toward me. Like the true Mouse Warrior that I am, I only screamed once...or twice...and dropped the bowl on my unsuspecting prey. I meant only to trap it, but I misjudged the distance and the bowl landed on the poor thing's neck...and killed it. I wasn't sure it was dead, so I swept the body under the bowl with the dustpan, put another bowl on top of that, and the laundry soap on top of that--just in case. And then I let my brother-in-law clean it up later, lucky him.
Since then, rumors of my fierce warrior-ness have spread throughout the mouse community and we've not seen head nor tail of any more mice. Hopefully they stay gone!
Tim & Kate: 2 (mice killed)
Mice: 4 (sightings)
Also, this morning as I was demonstrating for my 2nd graders the precise way to flap their arms like a chicken as they marched to music, I had one little boy ask me incredulously, "Aren't you embarrassed?"
"Nope, I have no embarrassment and no shame!" I declared, continuing to flap my arms. He looked at me like I was crazy, but I just smiled. And I thought, if I can get these kids to sing, clap, play instruments, and be quiet by being ridiculous, it is absolutely worth it.
Today's score:
Kate: 1
2nd graders: 0
I waited stealthily, silently, and sure enough, the demon creature came out and ran straight toward me. Like the true Mouse Warrior that I am, I only screamed once...or twice...and dropped the bowl on my unsuspecting prey. I meant only to trap it, but I misjudged the distance and the bowl landed on the poor thing's neck...and killed it. I wasn't sure it was dead, so I swept the body under the bowl with the dustpan, put another bowl on top of that, and the laundry soap on top of that--just in case. And then I let my brother-in-law clean it up later, lucky him.
Since then, rumors of my fierce warrior-ness have spread throughout the mouse community and we've not seen head nor tail of any more mice. Hopefully they stay gone!
Tim & Kate: 2 (mice killed)
Mice: 4 (sightings)
Also, this morning as I was demonstrating for my 2nd graders the precise way to flap their arms like a chicken as they marched to music, I had one little boy ask me incredulously, "Aren't you embarrassed?"
"Nope, I have no embarrassment and no shame!" I declared, continuing to flap my arms. He looked at me like I was crazy, but I just smiled. And I thought, if I can get these kids to sing, clap, play instruments, and be quiet by being ridiculous, it is absolutely worth it.
Today's score:
Kate: 1
2nd graders: 0
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Miracles
Sometimes, things just don't go your way. Sometimes decisions are hard, life is stressful, and everything seems broken. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try or how often you pray, you just can't get things to work out.
But then sometimes, everything falls into place. Just. Like. That.
The last week and a half have been insane--I had three job interviews, Tim had one, and between the two of us, we walked away with three new jobs.
That's right: Tim and I are both employed!
I don't know if I can fully explain how it all happened, but life and job hunting literally just fell into place yesterday. I'm going to be writing and editing for a magazine, and Tim is working as an IT guy at a financial firm. We found jobs in our fields, jobs that pay enough for us to live, and that start right away. Plus I also still have my two part-time teaching jobs. And we really did nothing to get these jobs and opportunities. It was one of those incredible times when Heavenly Father just handed us some blessings and as we stood, open-mouthed with our arms full, He just smiled and said, "You're welcome."
I don't know if anyone but Tim will ever really know how stressful the last few months have been. We tried very hard to hide it from everyone else, but truthfully, the lack of employment has been a very, very heavy weight we've been carrying. I know we were lucky--we only had that burden for three months. But to have it completely lifted in less than two weeks, to see how perfectly things worked out, to feel free of such a large burden...well, I'm not sure that I could ever describe that either.
We have jobs. I thought that when that happened, I'd want to write a blog post full of exclamation points and excitement and giddy joy, but now that it's happened and not through my own power or resources, I am only full of quiet, fervent gratitude. If it weren't for the mice, life would be perfect.
But then sometimes, everything falls into place. Just. Like. That.
The last week and a half have been insane--I had three job interviews, Tim had one, and between the two of us, we walked away with three new jobs.
That's right: Tim and I are both employed!
I don't know if I can fully explain how it all happened, but life and job hunting literally just fell into place yesterday. I'm going to be writing and editing for a magazine, and Tim is working as an IT guy at a financial firm. We found jobs in our fields, jobs that pay enough for us to live, and that start right away. Plus I also still have my two part-time teaching jobs. And we really did nothing to get these jobs and opportunities. It was one of those incredible times when Heavenly Father just handed us some blessings and as we stood, open-mouthed with our arms full, He just smiled and said, "You're welcome."
I don't know if anyone but Tim will ever really know how stressful the last few months have been. We tried very hard to hide it from everyone else, but truthfully, the lack of employment has been a very, very heavy weight we've been carrying. I know we were lucky--we only had that burden for three months. But to have it completely lifted in less than two weeks, to see how perfectly things worked out, to feel free of such a large burden...well, I'm not sure that I could ever describe that either.
We have jobs. I thought that when that happened, I'd want to write a blog post full of exclamation points and excitement and giddy joy, but now that it's happened and not through my own power or resources, I am only full of quiet, fervent gratitude. If it weren't for the mice, life would be perfect.
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