In my last post, I discussed what professional story I was living. The basic premise from Miller's book that I've been writing about is that the story one is living is directly linked to what that individual wants. Story = a character who wants something and overcomes obstacles to get it. I bemoaned the murkiness of my professional story. This morning I discovered a larger problem.
Although I struggle to state what I want professionally, I've got no problem stating what I want in other areas of my life. I know I want spiritual growth (even though my fight to obtain it seems weak at times). I want to spend time with my family. I want personal, emotional, and spiritual health. I want fun. I want UNI to win basketball games. These aren't necessarily concrete, but I at least know what I'm after.
My problem lies in the fact that I really haven't spent a great deal of time thinking about what I want for other people. This morning in church our pastor was teaching about the core beliefs and actions of our church. There were clear statements regarding what our church wanted for the people we come in contact with.
I know, I know: some of you unbelievers are tired of Christians wanting to evangelize. Why can't they just believe what they want to believe and leave me out of it? Here's the thing, though - if I see someone burning to death, and I have the power to save them, I'm going to save them. I want them to have life. It's not altruistic - it's human nature. A true Christian's motivation for evangelizing is to give unbelievers life (and I apologize for all of those "Christians" whose goal in evangelizing has been to prove that they're right). I'm a lukewarm Christian if I don't want life for you and don't want to keep you from pain and suffering. But that's another topic for another day.
For me, though, I realized that perhaps I am a lukewarm Christian in this area. I haven't spent a great deal of time thinking about what I desperately want for others, what I'll fight for and overcome obstacles and endure hardships to obtain for others. I spend a lot of time on me. But in this story that I'm trying to live (and live better), I've got to want life-transforming truth for others if I am who I say I am. I've got to care about them having life, not just be mildly interested in the daily anecdotes of those who bother to talk to me first or who are interested in complimenting me.
Miller writes in Million Miles that I am "a tree in a story about a forest, and it's arrogant of me to believe any differently. And the story of the forest is better than the story of the tree." (198) If my sub-plot in this larger narrative about a forest is going to turn out well, I better get in my head what I want for the trees around me. Even the ones I don't like.
If I'm not fighting to get something I want for others, my story will likely be of no eternal consequence: just another life, lived for comfort and lived for self. I've read that story too many times.
***Note: I know some of you have indicated the site wouldn't let you post a comment. I think I fixed the problem. All readers should be able to post any comments they have. Please, post away.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
What professional story am I living?
I am scared to death of wanting something bad enough to commit to it. It's been my professional Achilles heel, I fear. Continuing on in my exploration of Miller's Million Miles in a Thousand Years, tonight I explore what it is I want.
Miller's definition of story: "A character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it."
So the question is, what story am I living? I'm the character living a story; what is it I want bad enough to overcome obstacles and engage in conflict to get it?
Miller also says this: "If you want to konw what a person's story is about, just ask them what they want. If we don't want anything, we are living boring stories, and if we want a Roomba vaccum clearner, we are living stupid stories."
Also, "Perhaps one of the reasons I've avoided having a clear ambition is the second you stand up and point toward a horizon, you realize how much there is to lose. It's always been this way."
I don't think I can really point to anything I'm willing to say I want professionally. It's always been about options for me. I never thought about doing anything other than being a teacher until around the end of my college undergraduate experience. Then it became a list of things I could do: I could commit completely to basketball and attempt to become a college coach. I could commit to education and become a professor. I could commit to theology and become a pastor of some sorts. I could write. I guess I decided I would stay in teaching until I was tired of it, all the time having in the back of my mind a list of other things I could do.
I'm almost 30, and I still can't say what I want. As Miller said, once an individual commits, there is a lot to lose. And as of now I've yet to find something I was so sure of that I was willing to risk that much for. So I got a degree, and then a national certification, and now am working on another degree, all under the guise of providing options for myself. Don't get me wrong; having options is a good thing. I've encountered too many people in my life who are miserable but don't have any options. I've always sworn I wouldn't turn out that way.
At the same time, I keep "giving myself options" without really ever committing to anything. Or perhaps by not choosing, I've chosen to commit to teaching (with several options if it doesn't work out). The bottom line here, though, is that I haven't sold myself on some prize or desire professionally, so I float around doing several things okay. My professional story is muddled, with no clear direction.
Perhaps there's nothing I want professionally because there's no room to want that. My career used to be hugely important to me. Now, if I'm listing things that I want that I'm not willing to relinquish for anything, that I'm willing to face obstacles and conflict to achieve, the list includes
- improved spiritual life
- lead my family well
- improved personal relationships
- personal health
- live with passion, don't just survive
These are my priorities at this point in my life. Some receive more attention than others. When I look back at my professional decisions over the past 3 years, they've been controlled by their effects on those priorities. That's not a bad thing. It's just frustrating to know that I'm not really chasing anything professionally right now. I don't know what to chase, what's worth sacrificing for. Perhaps there is a season for everything.
I'm rambling. I'm not sure if this makes any sense together anymore, but I'd love opinions on this topic. Any thoughts, readers?
Miller's definition of story: "A character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it."
So the question is, what story am I living? I'm the character living a story; what is it I want bad enough to overcome obstacles and engage in conflict to get it?
Miller also says this: "If you want to konw what a person's story is about, just ask them what they want. If we don't want anything, we are living boring stories, and if we want a Roomba vaccum clearner, we are living stupid stories."
Also, "Perhaps one of the reasons I've avoided having a clear ambition is the second you stand up and point toward a horizon, you realize how much there is to lose. It's always been this way."
I don't think I can really point to anything I'm willing to say I want professionally. It's always been about options for me. I never thought about doing anything other than being a teacher until around the end of my college undergraduate experience. Then it became a list of things I could do: I could commit completely to basketball and attempt to become a college coach. I could commit to education and become a professor. I could commit to theology and become a pastor of some sorts. I could write. I guess I decided I would stay in teaching until I was tired of it, all the time having in the back of my mind a list of other things I could do.
I'm almost 30, and I still can't say what I want. As Miller said, once an individual commits, there is a lot to lose. And as of now I've yet to find something I was so sure of that I was willing to risk that much for. So I got a degree, and then a national certification, and now am working on another degree, all under the guise of providing options for myself. Don't get me wrong; having options is a good thing. I've encountered too many people in my life who are miserable but don't have any options. I've always sworn I wouldn't turn out that way.
At the same time, I keep "giving myself options" without really ever committing to anything. Or perhaps by not choosing, I've chosen to commit to teaching (with several options if it doesn't work out). The bottom line here, though, is that I haven't sold myself on some prize or desire professionally, so I float around doing several things okay. My professional story is muddled, with no clear direction.
Perhaps there's nothing I want professionally because there's no room to want that. My career used to be hugely important to me. Now, if I'm listing things that I want that I'm not willing to relinquish for anything, that I'm willing to face obstacles and conflict to achieve, the list includes
- improved spiritual life
- lead my family well
- improved personal relationships
- personal health
- live with passion, don't just survive
These are my priorities at this point in my life. Some receive more attention than others. When I look back at my professional decisions over the past 3 years, they've been controlled by their effects on those priorities. That's not a bad thing. It's just frustrating to know that I'm not really chasing anything professionally right now. I don't know what to chase, what's worth sacrificing for. Perhaps there is a season for everything.
I'm rambling. I'm not sure if this makes any sense together anymore, but I'd love opinions on this topic. Any thoughts, readers?
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Participant or victim?
While my goal was to read 3 books over Christmas Break, I only got through one - Donald Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. Great book. It's a personal account of the experience of trying to make his life into an interesting enough story to make a movie about, since he had movie people trying to do exactly that. In that process, he explores through writing the idea that life is exactly like story and that we should live accordingly. (To see a thousand times better description of the book, see http://donmilleris.com/books)
I loved the book and highly recommend it. I've got 3 pages of notes over the book that I really want to explore on this blog periodically. Tonight I begin that process. My commentary will neither require previous reading of the text nor ruin the book if you plan on reading it.
Quoting Miller on p. 58: "I think life is staggering and we're just used to it. We all are like spoiled children no longer impressed with the gifts we're given - it's just another sunset, just another rainstorm moving in over the mountain, just another child being born, just another funeral. . .
I hear it often said or see it written that Americans have an entitlement problem. We teachers especially love to complain about the comfort and attention our students constantly feel entitled to. Perhaps the biggest problem, though, is that no one sees it in themselves. No one wants to believe that they have become entitled, but most of us have become so used to the magnificent that it's become something we feel we deserve. "I deserve a job. I deserve a working vehicle. I deserve to be left alone right now. My wife should want to make me supper tonight, and my internet better not be down. I don't deserve to get sick - I should be alive and well each and every morning, and my family should anticipate all of my moods and needs and act accordingly." Honestly, when any of this isn't true, how many of us complain? Or perhaps a better question, how much of this are we in awe of on a daily basis when it is true?
Somewhere along the line we began to feel entitled to the sun rising and entitled to the miracle of family members who love us. Miller offers a theory on p. 59:
"I've wondered, though, if one of the reasons we fail to acknowledge the brilliance of life is because we don't want the responsibility inherent in the acknowledgment. We don't want to be characters in a story because characters have to move and breathe and face conflict with courage. And if life isn't remarkable, then we don't have to do any of that; we can be unwilling victims rather than grateful participants."
Complaining is so much easier than facing conflict with courage. Being a victim is so much easier than being grateful. So I think there is some truth to Miller's words. When given a gift, whether asked for or not, most of us feel like we need to use it. We don't want to waste the gift. Heck, give me the gift of free food, whether I like it or not, and I'm going to stuff myself past gluttonous proportions just because I don't want to waste the chance at free food.
If I don't see each day as a gift, I don't have to approach my time in that manner, though. If I don't see each second with my spouse as a gift, I can carelessly cast away time together guilt-free. And when things go wrong, I can be a victim. It's a matter of perspective. Either I'm lucky to be alive and lucky to be where I am, flawed as I might think it is; or I wake up believing I deserve better in this land of random chance.
Only one of those two perspectives will lead me towards joy. . .
I loved the book and highly recommend it. I've got 3 pages of notes over the book that I really want to explore on this blog periodically. Tonight I begin that process. My commentary will neither require previous reading of the text nor ruin the book if you plan on reading it.
Quoting Miller on p. 58: "I think life is staggering and we're just used to it. We all are like spoiled children no longer impressed with the gifts we're given - it's just another sunset, just another rainstorm moving in over the mountain, just another child being born, just another funeral. . .
I hear it often said or see it written that Americans have an entitlement problem. We teachers especially love to complain about the comfort and attention our students constantly feel entitled to. Perhaps the biggest problem, though, is that no one sees it in themselves. No one wants to believe that they have become entitled, but most of us have become so used to the magnificent that it's become something we feel we deserve. "I deserve a job. I deserve a working vehicle. I deserve to be left alone right now. My wife should want to make me supper tonight, and my internet better not be down. I don't deserve to get sick - I should be alive and well each and every morning, and my family should anticipate all of my moods and needs and act accordingly." Honestly, when any of this isn't true, how many of us complain? Or perhaps a better question, how much of this are we in awe of on a daily basis when it is true?
Somewhere along the line we began to feel entitled to the sun rising and entitled to the miracle of family members who love us. Miller offers a theory on p. 59:
"I've wondered, though, if one of the reasons we fail to acknowledge the brilliance of life is because we don't want the responsibility inherent in the acknowledgment. We don't want to be characters in a story because characters have to move and breathe and face conflict with courage. And if life isn't remarkable, then we don't have to do any of that; we can be unwilling victims rather than grateful participants."
Complaining is so much easier than facing conflict with courage. Being a victim is so much easier than being grateful. So I think there is some truth to Miller's words. When given a gift, whether asked for or not, most of us feel like we need to use it. We don't want to waste the gift. Heck, give me the gift of free food, whether I like it or not, and I'm going to stuff myself past gluttonous proportions just because I don't want to waste the chance at free food.
If I don't see each day as a gift, I don't have to approach my time in that manner, though. If I don't see each second with my spouse as a gift, I can carelessly cast away time together guilt-free. And when things go wrong, I can be a victim. It's a matter of perspective. Either I'm lucky to be alive and lucky to be where I am, flawed as I might think it is; or I wake up believing I deserve better in this land of random chance.
Only one of those two perspectives will lead me towards joy. . .
Sunday, January 3, 2010
New Year's Confession
"Now sanctify yourselves, sancitfy the house of the Lord God of your fathers, and carry out the rubbish from the holy place. . . Do not be negligent now, for the Lord has chosen you to stand before him. . ." Chronicles 29:5, 11
Happy New Year, and welcome back to the blog. My sabbatical was about a week longer than I anticipated, but after a two week focus on many of the people in my life (and dodging winter weather), I believe I'm ready to write again. Now I must sort through and find thoughts worthy of your time.
For today, I come with a confession of what I believe to be my greatest sin. While I do believe that all sin is equal in God's eyes, this particular sin costs me the most, which is why I'll call it my greatest sin. At least I hope it is; if not, I'm wandering without a clue. I came to this realization this week in a discussion with one of my New Year's Eve guests. Upon realizing it, I'm confessing it here with the goal of improving through public admission.
The sin is my lack of discipline. I used to believe I was a fairly disciplined person, but I think I had the wrong definition of disciplined. I thought I was disciplined because I kept myself from many common temptations: I don't use pornography, I don't use drugs, I don't cheat on my wife, I carefully spend money and tithe each month, I don't smoke, I go to work when I'm supposed to and do my job without cutting corners, I'm in good shape.
This, however, is not discipline. Frankly, these are easy for me. I've never had a desire for porn. I can't conceive of what it would take for me to cheat on my wife. I've never seen or been offered drugs. My metabolism is still through the roof. I'm not trying to belittle those who do struggle with these things. My point is exactly the opposite. I think in the past I've believed that all you have to do is make a decision that you're not going to engage in a behavior that is unhealthy or sinful, and it's as simple as sticking with that decision. It shouldn't be hard. But I recently saw in my own life a repetitive undisciplined approach to a weakness that I have sought to improve. I've found my so-called addiction.
My problem is one of not using the time I've been given wisely, especially the time between 8 pm and when I go to bed. I've discovered that is the only time I really have a choice with how I spend it. I have basketball practice and school all day, then I come home and take care of my daughter until her bedtime (approx. 8 pm). Then I can choose. And too many times I choose the television.
TV isn't bad - choosing the TV above one's priorities is. And I do that. A lot. Prayer and Bible reading are essential priorities for living the life I seek to lead. I don't want to know the time comparison over the past 2 months of TV to those activities. I want to do this blog. I want to read articles, books, commentaries, etc. I want to exercise, and I want to listen to sermons or lectures while doing that. Too many nights, though, I'm a little bit tired once Elise goes to bed. I sit down, just to watch one show. It's easy. Just one. But then I've got to check what's on after that one show. Now it's two. And now I'm too tired to do anything productive, and I could go to bed and get rest so I won't be tired tomorrow night, but staying on the couch flipping channels doesn't take a lot of energy. Maybe just one more. I've got to find out what life was like in the 90's by watching reruns of Rosanne.
These are my cigarrettes. This is my porn. I feel bad about myself when I drag myself off the couch to go to bed. I feel bad enough to be mad, and mad enough not to fall asleep right away, and then tired enough the next night to do it all over again. It's easy. It's comfortable. It's a lack of discipline.
I've got a self-inflicted packed schedule. But I chose it. I chose to coach basketball again this year. I chose to begin another graduate degree. I chose to write a blog. This lifestyle at this time doesn't allow a lot of free time. I've got to utilize what I've got. If there is a Sovereign God, then all time is a gift. Any time blown is a gift carelessly thrown away.
I'm tired of throwing away gifts, which is why I'm writing this here. It's time to carry out the rubbish, to sanctify myself for this year, as the verse above suggests. For those of you looking for some juicy sin who have found yourself disappointed by what I've written, you're reading this blog for the wrong reasons. And don't kid yourself as I have - this is serious sin. Today I pray for more discipline.
Happy New Year, and welcome back to the blog. My sabbatical was about a week longer than I anticipated, but after a two week focus on many of the people in my life (and dodging winter weather), I believe I'm ready to write again. Now I must sort through and find thoughts worthy of your time.
For today, I come with a confession of what I believe to be my greatest sin. While I do believe that all sin is equal in God's eyes, this particular sin costs me the most, which is why I'll call it my greatest sin. At least I hope it is; if not, I'm wandering without a clue. I came to this realization this week in a discussion with one of my New Year's Eve guests. Upon realizing it, I'm confessing it here with the goal of improving through public admission.
The sin is my lack of discipline. I used to believe I was a fairly disciplined person, but I think I had the wrong definition of disciplined. I thought I was disciplined because I kept myself from many common temptations: I don't use pornography, I don't use drugs, I don't cheat on my wife, I carefully spend money and tithe each month, I don't smoke, I go to work when I'm supposed to and do my job without cutting corners, I'm in good shape.
This, however, is not discipline. Frankly, these are easy for me. I've never had a desire for porn. I can't conceive of what it would take for me to cheat on my wife. I've never seen or been offered drugs. My metabolism is still through the roof. I'm not trying to belittle those who do struggle with these things. My point is exactly the opposite. I think in the past I've believed that all you have to do is make a decision that you're not going to engage in a behavior that is unhealthy or sinful, and it's as simple as sticking with that decision. It shouldn't be hard. But I recently saw in my own life a repetitive undisciplined approach to a weakness that I have sought to improve. I've found my so-called addiction.
My problem is one of not using the time I've been given wisely, especially the time between 8 pm and when I go to bed. I've discovered that is the only time I really have a choice with how I spend it. I have basketball practice and school all day, then I come home and take care of my daughter until her bedtime (approx. 8 pm). Then I can choose. And too many times I choose the television.
TV isn't bad - choosing the TV above one's priorities is. And I do that. A lot. Prayer and Bible reading are essential priorities for living the life I seek to lead. I don't want to know the time comparison over the past 2 months of TV to those activities. I want to do this blog. I want to read articles, books, commentaries, etc. I want to exercise, and I want to listen to sermons or lectures while doing that. Too many nights, though, I'm a little bit tired once Elise goes to bed. I sit down, just to watch one show. It's easy. Just one. But then I've got to check what's on after that one show. Now it's two. And now I'm too tired to do anything productive, and I could go to bed and get rest so I won't be tired tomorrow night, but staying on the couch flipping channels doesn't take a lot of energy. Maybe just one more. I've got to find out what life was like in the 90's by watching reruns of Rosanne.
These are my cigarrettes. This is my porn. I feel bad about myself when I drag myself off the couch to go to bed. I feel bad enough to be mad, and mad enough not to fall asleep right away, and then tired enough the next night to do it all over again. It's easy. It's comfortable. It's a lack of discipline.
I've got a self-inflicted packed schedule. But I chose it. I chose to coach basketball again this year. I chose to begin another graduate degree. I chose to write a blog. This lifestyle at this time doesn't allow a lot of free time. I've got to utilize what I've got. If there is a Sovereign God, then all time is a gift. Any time blown is a gift carelessly thrown away.
I'm tired of throwing away gifts, which is why I'm writing this here. It's time to carry out the rubbish, to sanctify myself for this year, as the verse above suggests. For those of you looking for some juicy sin who have found yourself disappointed by what I've written, you're reading this blog for the wrong reasons. And don't kid yourself as I have - this is serious sin. Today I pray for more discipline.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Coming this Christmas. . .
Forgive me, faithful readers. I have been "prone to wander" onto several things as of late, leaving me without moments to write. The last two weeks have been a whirlwind of good and bad and ugly and mundane. The next two weeks will be more of the same.
My final grad project is due on Dec. 15, and it will dominate my few open moments. My few open moments are nearly non-existent, as I'm spending 4 nights a week in a gym. If I'm honest, there's no way I'll get to write in the next two weeks.
Therefore, I'm officially declaring a blogging sabbatical until the week of Christmas. I have much to say upon my return, but no time to say it for the next two weeks. I value my readers greatly, and I pray that you'll return around Christmas to check out the blog then once again. I purchased a laptop yesterday, which will hopefully increase my blogging productivity.
Stay with me and be patient. And thank you for your reading and commentary thus far.
My final grad project is due on Dec. 15, and it will dominate my few open moments. My few open moments are nearly non-existent, as I'm spending 4 nights a week in a gym. If I'm honest, there's no way I'll get to write in the next two weeks.
Therefore, I'm officially declaring a blogging sabbatical until the week of Christmas. I have much to say upon my return, but no time to say it for the next two weeks. I value my readers greatly, and I pray that you'll return around Christmas to check out the blog then once again. I purchased a laptop yesterday, which will hopefully increase my blogging productivity.
Stay with me and be patient. And thank you for your reading and commentary thus far.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
I'm back
For any who are wondering, I believe I've made it back out of the abyss of "here." It was a long journey, and it's the first topic that dominated several consecutive blog posts. One of the biggest things I learned is just how common this experience is. I had so many of you write or call or talk about your own experiences "here." "Here" is a reality - it happens to everyone. There is a season for everything, including a season to feel like crap and mope around about it. It happened to me, and it will happen again. Thought I don't look forward to sitting in a long funk again, the good times do taste much sweeter when compared to the not so good times. And when it comes again, I hope I remember what I've learned about getting out.
Strategy #1: I get by with a little help from my friends.
I got fed up and had a gathering of sorts with some of my close friends from my time at NS-RF high school. I felt like garbage, so I threw a party. We sat around my living room, enjoyed a few beverages, and we laughed. If you want to hear stories, sit in a room with a bunch of teachers and their spouses. I haven't laughed that hard in a while. I did briefly entertain the idea of becoming an X-ray technician (or something like that); but ultimately I came away not with with a career change, but with a great deal of joy. Which was pretty much the goal anyway. Too often I think we wait to celebrate big events. That night, we simply celebrated one of our biggest priorities, which is laughing together. I definitely had no time for self-pity in that environment.
Strategy #2: Be honest to those you trust.
I really hesitated to make any of my feelings public on this blog. I also don't enjoy talking about them openly with others as well. Against my better judgment, I did post it; and I also talked to a current teaching friend at Mason City. Frankly, it helped a lot. With my Mason City colleague, who was feeling the exact same way (especially about our job), we talked ourselves into no longer being the victim. We brought cookies and donuts to improve morale. We committed to telling more jokes between classes. I talked to several others or you, whether through Google chat, the phone, or elsewhere. It helped. 99.9% of people I would never be this honest with; those I trusted, however, proved worthy of that trust.
Strategy #3: Marry a patient spouse.
Although she never verbalized it, I imagine the thoughts going on in my wife's head went something like this: "I don't like you very much right now, but I do love you. At some point, the man I married will return. I hope that happens soon. Until then, I'll love you even though you're absolutely no fun at all." And she did. I hope she feels rewarded for her patience.
Strategy #4: Read wise authors, like MLK Jr.
This quote from King was especially important in the journey out:
"Do your work so well that no one could do it better. Do it so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will have to say: Here lived a man who did his job as if God Almighty called him at this particular time in history to do it."
I don't have to necessarily like my current situation to do that. And I must act as if I was called at this time and to this place to do my job, because I was. I'm here. And if an Almighty and Sovereign Being exists, He's responsible for that. So suck it up, Dykstra.
I wrote "wise" authors in the strategy as opposed to inspirational, because I found inspirational authors to do nothing for me. Those that usually inspire me did not have the words for me when I was "here." Wisdom was more inspiring than inspiration. Figure that one out. I suppose when the emotion one is most tied to is self-pity, appealing to one's emotions through inspirational talk will have little effect. That was my experience anyway.
Strategy #5: Do what you love.
I never stopped loving teaching. So I kept teaching. I love shooting the bull with other teachers, so I did that. I love my wife and my daughter and my family, so I stuck as closely to them as possible, even when I wasn't in the best of moods. I love coaching, so I got ready for the season. None of it fixed the events that put me in the funk, but doing what I love did make me remember that the little bad things going on that added up into big things ultimately didn't overcome the big positive things already in my life.
So through the grace of God, my friends, and my family, I feel like I'm back. I'm still busy, and I'm still somewhat dissatisfied with aspects of my job. None of that has changed. I'm just out of the abyss. It feels good to be out.
Strategy #1: I get by with a little help from my friends.
I got fed up and had a gathering of sorts with some of my close friends from my time at NS-RF high school. I felt like garbage, so I threw a party. We sat around my living room, enjoyed a few beverages, and we laughed. If you want to hear stories, sit in a room with a bunch of teachers and their spouses. I haven't laughed that hard in a while. I did briefly entertain the idea of becoming an X-ray technician (or something like that); but ultimately I came away not with with a career change, but with a great deal of joy. Which was pretty much the goal anyway. Too often I think we wait to celebrate big events. That night, we simply celebrated one of our biggest priorities, which is laughing together. I definitely had no time for self-pity in that environment.
Strategy #2: Be honest to those you trust.
I really hesitated to make any of my feelings public on this blog. I also don't enjoy talking about them openly with others as well. Against my better judgment, I did post it; and I also talked to a current teaching friend at Mason City. Frankly, it helped a lot. With my Mason City colleague, who was feeling the exact same way (especially about our job), we talked ourselves into no longer being the victim. We brought cookies and donuts to improve morale. We committed to telling more jokes between classes. I talked to several others or you, whether through Google chat, the phone, or elsewhere. It helped. 99.9% of people I would never be this honest with; those I trusted, however, proved worthy of that trust.
Strategy #3: Marry a patient spouse.
Although she never verbalized it, I imagine the thoughts going on in my wife's head went something like this: "I don't like you very much right now, but I do love you. At some point, the man I married will return. I hope that happens soon. Until then, I'll love you even though you're absolutely no fun at all." And she did. I hope she feels rewarded for her patience.
Strategy #4: Read wise authors, like MLK Jr.
This quote from King was especially important in the journey out:
"Do your work so well that no one could do it better. Do it so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will have to say: Here lived a man who did his job as if God Almighty called him at this particular time in history to do it."
I don't have to necessarily like my current situation to do that. And I must act as if I was called at this time and to this place to do my job, because I was. I'm here. And if an Almighty and Sovereign Being exists, He's responsible for that. So suck it up, Dykstra.
I wrote "wise" authors in the strategy as opposed to inspirational, because I found inspirational authors to do nothing for me. Those that usually inspire me did not have the words for me when I was "here." Wisdom was more inspiring than inspiration. Figure that one out. I suppose when the emotion one is most tied to is self-pity, appealing to one's emotions through inspirational talk will have little effect. That was my experience anyway.
Strategy #5: Do what you love.
I never stopped loving teaching. So I kept teaching. I love shooting the bull with other teachers, so I did that. I love my wife and my daughter and my family, so I stuck as closely to them as possible, even when I wasn't in the best of moods. I love coaching, so I got ready for the season. None of it fixed the events that put me in the funk, but doing what I love did make me remember that the little bad things going on that added up into big things ultimately didn't overcome the big positive things already in my life.
So through the grace of God, my friends, and my family, I feel like I'm back. I'm still busy, and I'm still somewhat dissatisfied with aspects of my job. None of that has changed. I'm just out of the abyss. It feels good to be out.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Self-Pity and and the Art of Potty-Training
My recent foray into self-pity over the past few weeks (or is it months now?) has taught me something. Self-pity is a drug that I abuse. It's drug for several reasons. When I don't want to feel anything else because I'm frustrated or fed up, I turn to self-pity. I turn to it because then it's all about me, all about my comfort. There's a certain high that comes from it initially, but there's a distinct (and longer) downer and hangover period after the fact. It's recreational and social - I love to use it and share it with friends. Seeing friends use it draws me into it even when I'm not originally using it myself. And it's addicting. Oh is it addicting, calling me back to it again and again, creating a binge of weeks (or months) that feels like a fog of time. Self-pity is a drug, and it is a demon.
I've at least figured out part of the source that created the downward spiral into this drug abuse. Like so many other people, it's my job. I'm not having a lot of fun right now, for several reasons. Part of it is I wonder whether or not I'll have my job at the end of the school year. And despite my frustrations, this is a job I want to keep. But a lot of it is the way my school is being run right now. I'll avoid the specifics, but the environment is the worst I've been in during my 8 years of teaching. And the most positive people I work with feel the same way at this point. Last Sunday's sermon at church was about work. I absolutely wanted to avoid that topic at all costs that day, but I did write down something that our pastor quoted in his sermon:
"While the carpenter is building the house, the house is building the carpenter." Unfortunately, I could see the way my work was "building" me, and the result was the drug addiction mentioned above.
Yesterday I was getting frustrated with my daughter. We're in the middle of potty training right now. She's interested in it, and she knows what she's supposed to do. She even cheers loudly for me every time I successfully urinate in the correct spot. She's only successful in finding the right spot at the right time for herself, though, about 1 in 6 or 7 times. I was just shaking my head yesterday. This is a kid who hates being dirty. Our napkin budget has tripled since she's began eating solid food, because she must stay clean. When we carved our pumpkin this year, she helped get the guts of the pumpkin out; but it was with a large spoon from a great distance away. She hates uncleanliness. I can't figure out why, then, she won't just use the toilet consistently. She understands the process. She knows she'll be wet and unhappy if she doesn't. And she's successful when she chooses to be. This doesn't make any sense, I thought to myself.
Then I went on a run and figured something out. I'm doing pretty much the exact same thing she's doing. I hate feeling like crap. I avoid it as much as possible. I know that to avoid extended periods of feeling like this, I must stay connected to God. Yet time and time again, God must look down and shake his head, wondering why I've wet myself all over again. I'm 29 years old, and I still need to wear pull-ups through the night because when things get dark in my life, I forget to use the toilet (figuratively speaking). My daughter's two. What's my excuse?
I've at least figured out part of the source that created the downward spiral into this drug abuse. Like so many other people, it's my job. I'm not having a lot of fun right now, for several reasons. Part of it is I wonder whether or not I'll have my job at the end of the school year. And despite my frustrations, this is a job I want to keep. But a lot of it is the way my school is being run right now. I'll avoid the specifics, but the environment is the worst I've been in during my 8 years of teaching. And the most positive people I work with feel the same way at this point. Last Sunday's sermon at church was about work. I absolutely wanted to avoid that topic at all costs that day, but I did write down something that our pastor quoted in his sermon:
"While the carpenter is building the house, the house is building the carpenter." Unfortunately, I could see the way my work was "building" me, and the result was the drug addiction mentioned above.
Yesterday I was getting frustrated with my daughter. We're in the middle of potty training right now. She's interested in it, and she knows what she's supposed to do. She even cheers loudly for me every time I successfully urinate in the correct spot. She's only successful in finding the right spot at the right time for herself, though, about 1 in 6 or 7 times. I was just shaking my head yesterday. This is a kid who hates being dirty. Our napkin budget has tripled since she's began eating solid food, because she must stay clean. When we carved our pumpkin this year, she helped get the guts of the pumpkin out; but it was with a large spoon from a great distance away. She hates uncleanliness. I can't figure out why, then, she won't just use the toilet consistently. She understands the process. She knows she'll be wet and unhappy if she doesn't. And she's successful when she chooses to be. This doesn't make any sense, I thought to myself.
Then I went on a run and figured something out. I'm doing pretty much the exact same thing she's doing. I hate feeling like crap. I avoid it as much as possible. I know that to avoid extended periods of feeling like this, I must stay connected to God. Yet time and time again, God must look down and shake his head, wondering why I've wet myself all over again. I'm 29 years old, and I still need to wear pull-ups through the night because when things get dark in my life, I forget to use the toilet (figuratively speaking). My daughter's two. What's my excuse?
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