A lesson in destruction

Before I walked out the door of the final day of my accounting course, I went to go shake hands with my professor. To be completely honest, he wasn't the best instructor. Sure he knew the material, he just wasn't motivated. But throughout the course, he'd drop subtle hints about his ailing wife who had just been diagnosed with brain cancer, or some other terminal disease that had numbered her days. At times he would merely ask rhetorical questions to the class as to why God let things like this happen. We really had no answer, so instead we just awkwardly glanced at each other.

I couldn't help but feel for the guy, so each time we left class, I went up to him and wished him a good weekend, a better tomorrow, something to show that at least I was listening. I never really knew what to say to someone who I didn't really know, yet at the same time was pouring his heart out to us. I simply smiled frequently and took all the condensation from his pent up frustration with life. I still remember the one time he scolded me in front of the class for paradoxically following the exact guidelines he had given us, but instead of getting defensive, I simply smiled and said, "Ok. I'll try harder next time."

Before I walked through those doors for the final time, he said to me, "Thanks for the positive attitude." I was taken aback by this remark. I have never considered myself to be "positive". For those of you who know me, either in person or loosely through this mess of a blog, I think "positive" is one of the last words to describe me.

For the longest time I've found any reason to be unhappy. I used to blame it on people, on living amidst the lack of cultural competence in this country, and my one saving grace was to leave again - yet when I did, I only found another reason to be unsatisfied. I was running from something.

I think for the first time I've stopped running and I'm just now actively confronting everything that has frightened me; everything that has forced me to impose this unrelenting self-destruction. And for the first time I'm not cowering to their demands. I'm fighting back. The irony is that in destroying a part of myself, I am also creating. Creating an acceptance of where I am, what I am doing, and most importantly, who I am supposed to be.

Yes. I will be back.

I'm sure the two readers of this blog, (one being me), are wondering why I haven't posted much anymore. Partly a loss of passion, majorly a traumatizing fear for return. But this blog will be revived soon. I am just taking a much needed break to administer some self-healing surgery on some self-inflicted wounds. See you soon, my friend.

A Waste of a Day

Doing nothing, was about all I could do today. Hopefully, I'll have at least learned the feeling of how I never want to feel again, and get back to being productive, or at least tricking myself into thinking I am.

I think I might finally understand the point of my last trip.

To instill the fear in me. I ain't never going back.

The Sacrifices of Change

I'm beginning to realize that change comes with its consequences. There were and still are so many things I want to change about myself, and I am so obsessively focused on self-improvement that I've overlooked how in that course of transformation, we lose qualities we once adored and respected.

But as a good friend once told me, we lose some things we liked about ourselves in the process of growth - that is simply the cost of maturing into the full potential we all have within ourselves. But hopefully after every new chapter in our lives, we can look back and remember how we used to be, and work towards salvaging those traits and qualities we once loved. That, I believe, is the process of finding balance.

Civil War

In talking to my good friend and personal life guru, I've realized that I don't hate myself. It's parts of me that I hate. And I think that's okay. I think all of us have imperfections we look to remedy and goals we seek to accomplish. It is the parts that hold me back from realizing my full potential that I despise. It is the lethargy to change, the selfishness, the fear that I want to viciously kill. I see a part of me that finds joy in seeing me fail. Call it whatever you want. Lack of self-esteem, depression, doubt, laziness. I think at one point of our lives, all of us go through an internal conflict where we need to seek out, identify and pull out those elements of our character, then maliciously stomp every single ounce of slithering life residing in them.

And forgiving yourself? That's partly true.

I don't think you should forgive the parts of yourself that you hate, but rather the part of you that was complacent in allowing those self-defeating beliefs to rule your life. It's okay to fall down. It's okay to make mistakes. It's okay to give up. Just as long as it doesn't always stay that way.

Reflections from the last trip

I have made many mistakes in my life. I have misinterpreted the signs and beckoned to the alluring call of defeat. But the world does not stop to hear your sorrow. God does not hate you and the world is not against you. Your biggest enemy is yourself.

I want too much. I expect way more than I can accomplish because I am selfish. Greed does not only come in the monetary or material measures. Overindulgence is a poison. Desire can be a sin. Want less, need less. Live more. Selflessness is key.

You can dwell on the past all you want. You can relive those moments in your mind, fantasizing how they could have been different, how you could be now, but the present doesn't change. Your time is better spent on productivity, not reminiscence.

Sometimes I found myself acting like someone I wasn't or wanting something because it is what people expect me to want. I've never really questioned who I am. I felt lost. I felt without identity. But sometimes you need to go outside yourself to see who you really are and what you need to improve. I think I'm coming back to center.

I've never been one to quit. Sometimes I have the foolish pride of a beaten fighter. Sometimes I step through those ropes when common sense tells me to unlace the gloves and call it a day. But this is one time where I can't throw in the towel.

Fuck the rest. It's time to go.