Modern Times

Most Things I Worry About Never Happen Anyway

When I was in elementary school, I became a member of the Cub Scouts. Our pack met at my elementary school from time to time, including in the art room on the occasion of this opening story. Through some swing of circumstance, I broke a small vanity mirror that was hanging in the classroom. After doing so, I was terrified of my punishment. The art teacher was a man named Mr. Modler, who I remember being very well built and, as far as my elementary school taught mind could comprehend, was probably 9 feet tall.

That part is incidental, but I think it needs clarification. I wasn’t literally thinking that Mr. Modler was 9 feet tall; I was thinking that in an environment of adults that already seem much larger than me, this man seemed much larger than them. Not so much in physical height but in stature; he seemed built. The name Mr. Modler seemed apt, again not that I would have known what “apt” meant at my age. All the same, the night after this happened I knew I would have to face him in art class the next day. I could not sleep from the prospect.

But I did sleep. The next day we met, but he didn’t really seem to care that I’d broken his mirror. I didn’t destroy his family or burn down his car; it was an inch by inch vanity mirror and I was a child. All that terror built up inside me for no reason. I bring this up because I cannot recount how many times this scenario has played itself out emotionally; where I’ve been gripped in fear thinking not about harm I’ve caused, but the potential of harm I could perform. My earliest method for coping with this fear was to disappear myself into the scenery. Visually I’d wear plain clothes, conversationally I’d keep up with popular culture well enough that references wouldn’t get past my guard. I tried to create a space in conversation where others felt that they could say whatever they wanted; that they could be whoever they wanted, as I wanted to.

I had a hope that if I could sat back and observed my scenery, I could use my wits to overcome the uncertainty of social interactions. If I could understand others thoughts, then I could act in such a way that others would work with me and like me. If I did nothing to hurt them and stayed out of other people’s business, then ideally I could co-exist peacefully with others. But there’s no way to be both in a situation and above it, nor could I gain wisdom by staying above the fray; instead I neglected my needs by attending to others. And while the service of others is a noble pursuit, it is not worth the destruction of one’s self.

I bring these things up not to focus on my dirty laundry, but to show how an emotional framework that is appropriate for one age can be unreasonable for another. Earlier in life, I retained focus by setting goals, believing that if I worked hard enough I could prove myself worthy of others respect and love. At the time, this was a net positive because it was an act of faith, a way to move from isolation to communion. But this belief brought unfair emotional consequences when others did not hold their end of the bargain (one that, to be fair, they never even entered into). If I work hard for something, it does not imply that the something I’m working towards is obligated to provide me anything.

In short, coming into this year, it seemed like a good idea to have 40 to 50 goals; and in a way, it was. It made me realize that I have some very specific desires that I should focus on. More importantly, it made me realize that the pursuit of those goals is not an appropriate way to determine my self worth. For 2010, I’ll base my self worth on my ability to watch all of Battlestar Galactica in two weeks (dunzo. 2010′s already in the bag!).

I have unfinished goals from the past year, but I’ve got the rest of my life to work on them. I’m ready to travel, work myself into healthier habits, get a little smarter… all of that is why I’m optimistic. I’ve got a clearer mind, some unfinished business, and a better sense of direction. As much as I cursed the year at times, hopefully 2010 will be as challenging and rewarding as 2009. I made some other goals for the coming year and will probably post them, but I already feel like my writing’s getting too heavy for my liking.

In that spirit, ladies and gentlemen, may I present Andy Roddick and some koala love:

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