July 1, 2009

On Being You

For much of my life, I was weird. Really weird. Like, I didn't fit, and boy, did I know it.

People let me know it. And not just a little bit. Often, it was so clear to me that there was no point in trying to fit in. So I embraced who I was and defiantly approached the world with, "what the fuck?" Those times in my life were very liberating, and occasionally, I miss them.

Of course, for the most part, I went along to go along.

The thing is, recently, I've been spending quite a bit of time thinking about who I really want to be, and how to be that person.

Turns out, the person I truly want to be doesn't look that weird on any scale. She's not exceptional. But she also doesn't want to try to be normal, and she doesn't care if you think she's different. The person I want to be doesn't need to prove anything by trying to look smart, athletic, etc., and so she doesn't try to avoid looking normal, dumb, or uninteresting (this, in particular, if I am honest with myself is an area where I am too far from the person I want to be).

The person I want to be looks good to me. She is comfortable with the idea that she may be admirable or impressive to you ('cause she is to me) but she also realizes you may not value anything she values and you may find her completely and totally misguided, lost, or even unremarkably sub-par.

I've been spending quite a bit of time in the last year thinking about the person I want to be and how to get myself closer to being that person.

So I've been paying attention to the times when I find myself closest to the person I want to be and I've been taking notes. I'm shocked to find that for all of the careful thought I've put into this endeavor, the thing that's most important appears to be the element of chance.

If I am honest, sometimes, my flaws are my strengths and my strengths are my flaws -- and I need to learn the lessons these unexpected flip-flops teach me while still admitting that my strengths will probably always be my strengths.

Sometimes, my mistakes are the best things I do and the calculated well-thought-out actions are those I regret the most -- and I need to learn to let go where I hold tight and to hold a little tighter where I let go -- because that is how I bring more randomness into my life and if DNA can teach us anything it's that randomness breeds awesome.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Apparently you are me... (Nice post!)

Elmer said...

Anon -- thanks for the compliment.

The buddhist texts I try to study would agree with you that I am, indeed, you. [grin]