Deep down dark

Sometimes I think I took Mr. Tolkien's words a bit too much to heart: "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit." Granted, as a child I wanted to resemble the noble Lady Eowyn for her courage and audacity, and I had hoped to avoid connection with the silly, munchkin-like hobbits. Now, however, I've realized two significant concepts:

1. Hobbits have a humble nobility and quiet greatness (redundant, yes - - but also hobbitlike)
   


2. Eowyn was not simply "brave": she was in a suicidal despair. Not nearly as much fun.

I would rather not, at least on a romantic, aesthetic level, have exterior associations with hobbit-folk. Really, what woman wouldn't rather remind her friends of Eowyn, beautiful warrior maid (better: Galadriel or Arwen... Elf-Queens!!?!) than short, hairy-footed people that live in little round houses underground?

The point that I have, in all my geek glory, successfully evaded for two paragraphs, shall now make an appearance: I tend toward hobbit-ness more often than elf-queen or warrior-maid. Blech. My poor, feminine, romantic heart wilts just a little at the thought. Before all of the Tolkien fans start heaving mathoms at me, I will offer an advance disclaimer: this post will certainly not focus on the less-admirable attributes of our little friends (Or of me, to be honest) . And, please, D., refrain from all snorts until all names have been announced. :)

This week, I stayed inside my emotional hobbit-hole, dark and cozy and self-absorbed. I took care of my responsibilities, e.g., kid's karate summer camp, SOAR at GSC, some prep for classes, RGTR orientations, dinner for my boyfriend (Bertolli!). I even fed my cats at the designated times and with requisite kitty-cat-talk. But when I wasn't take care of my BIG responsibilities, I avoided phone calls, neglected email, and slept on my couch* --> always a bad sign for me. Generally, I navel-gazed myself into pseudo-depression. Awful. Now, I know you're waiting with bated breath, wondering what the heck was wrong with me this weekend.

As I reflect (now on day 2 of this attempted post), I am learning that I have a few great fears in my heart, and that they typically manifest as minor insecurities until a major event propels me inward toward selfish introspection:

1. Fear of losing my drive for excellence and becoming lazy and "sufficient," rather than outstanding.


2. Fear of incompletion; i.e., becoming a woman that starts many things and finishes none.


3. Fear of mediocrity - coming in 2nd or 3rd instead of shining at the top.

Again, all of these major insecurities appear as minor complaints and worries in almost all aspects of my life - professionally and personally. I want to be the best teacher, best friend, best girlfriend, daughter, sister, karate student - obviously, however, if I'm human, it's virtually impossible to truly be the "best" at anything, much less the best at all of those roles. And thus, the fear of failure, of "mediocrity," raises its head and a cycle begins. I "fail" (per se), feel defeated, wonder if everyone has lost faith in me and my abilities, question my desires and dreams, and basically whine myself into a deep, dark hobbit-hole.

B. has said a number of times that I'm "ruled by my insecurities"; after a lengthy discussion last week about this very topic - and that specific comment - I recognize both the superficial truth and the underlying misdirection that his statement implies. The statement is true, insomuch that I believe most of us use our insecurities as both motivation to succeed and as excuses for failure, thus attesting to the bilateral nature of...well... our nature in general. On the other hand, B.'s comment misleads the object of the statement into an incorrect understanding of one's capacity for growth, either emotional or mental. Basically, when he says that I'm "ruled by my insecurities," I hear "You are incapable of growing as a person because you are controlled by fear rather than a sense of adventure, desire for success, or confidence in your strengths." Of course, he didn't mean it that way - he wants me to "see" myself as he does, which is, by all accounts, in a very, very good light. :)

The point? I have pondered and wandered and explored and explained, trying to find my way out of my own head and back into myself. That is, the self that tries (and fails, often) to become more selfless, even as I hold onto my own ambitions and dreams. I'll offer up my quote, though many of you have seen it. This quote, from Carl Sagan's Contact, feels... right... to me:

"She was determined to be as tough-minded as possible, without abandoning the sense of wonder that was driving her in the first place."

Perhaps I just needed to get this navel-lint out on paper, for all the world** to see, and now I can focus on OTHER THINGS. Whew. Blegh - it was icky in there. I think, for a start, I'll attempt to eliminate all of those self-deprecating comments that aren't really that funny, and really only represent a bid for attention and external ego-pumping (hehe - that's almost bad). After that, the world is my oyster! I will rule! I will become sheer...

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*Obligatory YouTube link.
**Or, any vaguely interested parties.