Skip to main content

You

Sometimes days come around when you don't like yourself very much. When you see faults written like tattoos all over your soul, and no matter how much you scrub, they never fade, never fall away. Faults like pride and fear and ignorance and jealousy and insensitivity. Things that make you ugly inside. Things that make you want to crawl out of your skin and into someone else's.

That desire to be different from who you are, a different person altogether, only comes at you once in a blue moon. You know deep down that you have it pretty good--besides freedom, democracy, and religion, you've got good health, enough intelligence to guide you through three college degrees, a dollop of creativity, a supportive husband, sweet children. What more could you ask for?

Still, you wish you were different. You wish you were more. You sometimes look around at the people you come in contact with and wish you could pluck bits and pieces of them and add these things to your personality. If you could put yourself together like a Mr. Potato Head with a body, a hat, a pair of feet, a nose, some angry eyes--you'd pick some different traits: spontaneity, strength, memory, courage, satisfaction, cheerfulness, confidence, and maybe a few extra inches of height, too.

If you could do this, maybe you could do something of real value instead of the nonsense that you do each day. But you can't pick your own character. You're stuck in your spiderweb, struggling to free yourself of one character trait, while at the same time trying to develop another. You're a package deal, a smorgasbord of insecurities and doubts.

Lucky you.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Days 6-8: Moving

If you were to choose the elements of a perfect place to live, you might be like a deer caught in headlights. Sometimes, you have to go somewhere else to see what there is to see, and know what there is to know before you could ever say, “This. This is where I want to live.” Or maybe that’s just me. I’ve traveled many places, but I see the elements of what makes a good life here: Safe, reliable, convenient, and clean public transportation. (Hello, beach day) Small grocery stores on every couple of blocks. (Not a lot of processed foods, either) Many green spaces. (I saw a guy standing on his head during one of my walks through the park) An appreciation for the arts, making them affordable for everyone. (10 euro opera tickets) Courtesy for other people. (I’ve seen people give up their seats for older women a few times) Cafes where you can sit for hours without anyone batting an eye. (Sacher torte, anyone?) And, there’s IKEA (accessible from public transportation, of c...

Hot Chocolate with Whipped Cream

Each morning, you stand by the window watching your boys until they're on the bus or picked up. You watch them leave your circle of safety and hope for the best. You can't know what that day will bring. Nothing, maybe. Or maybe a bomb threat. Maybe a math test. Maybe a lockdown drill. Or maybe a real lockdown. But on this day, there is something different. A rally. A walk-out. A demonstration. Your oldest son asked if you'd call to have him dismissed and bring him downtown to attend the demonstration. You want your voice to be heard, and even more, you want your son's voice to be heard, so you call the school, you pick him up, you drive downtown. You don't know what to expect, but the reality makes you weepy. A crowd of teenagers, many carrying hand-drawn signs stand gathered in front of the church, chanting. Adults congregate around the edges. A band plays, keeping time for the chants. Horns honk as their drivers show support. One man in a truck wags his fi...

Days 23-29

I’m eating Doritos right at this very minute because last week, my Austrian friend took me shopping. We went to a place called The Snack Shop that sells all kinds of American junk food. I succumbed, but I hadn’t broken into them until today, probably because there’s so much amazing regular food that who needs junk food? So, yes, I ate Doritos today, but I also listened to parts of Mozart’s The Magic Flute.  That must cancel out the Doritos, right? Better yet, I got a library card! Which has absolutely nothing to do with either Doritos or Mozart, but it makes me happy. Anyway, since the last time I wrote, I have attended a Back to School Night and met all the teachers and got all the forms and signed all the paperwork. I took the gingerbread boy to Prague last weekend solo because the Gingerbread Man was presenting at a conference in New York. I navigated Prague—there, around, and back. Are you impressed? I am. Especially because my data didn’t work while we were there. A...