I used to do a list on my birthday of what I learned that year, but every time I make some definitive check mark as to what I learned, I realize later, "Oh honey, you're still learning. Don't check it off yet."
I will say that 13 was a great age for recognizing more that weaknesses are really secret strengths. When I am aware of my weaknesses--the things I've spent years wishing I could change about myself--and embrace them without being defensive, I can find ways to use them for good.
Growing older is always a journey of becoming a better version of yourself--a journey that will and must include both happy moments and hard moments. It's how you weave them together, drawing lessons from both, that gives you the power of creating a beautiful life.
So, I'm 14 now. As in years old.
When I turned 13, I was pretty much arrogant about a lot of things. If I had to choose, I would say year 13 was the most prospective, enriching, terribly sad, overwhelmingly joyful, surprising, ordinary, painful, beautiful year so far. It's astonishing to me, what I learned in year 13.
The year contrasted itself nicely, with important lessons on both pain and letting yourself feel pain and also overcoming it. Growth follows.
So begins the can't also crisis.
It's not just Sad vs. Happy. It's everything. I often pigeonhole myself into categories, as if a girl who wants to change the world can’t also love cute shoes. Or a girl who sings of the joys of family and friends can’t also want to learn more about independence and solitude. Or an advocate for a cause of great importance can’t also advocate for a cause of little importance like wearing lipstick or buying art or making crafts.
This little crisis has followed me all year, so much that when I found out about the Spice Girls, I actually stressed out about who I would want to be if I had to be a spice. I loved Posh’s style, but some days you just need tennis shoes, you know? Sporty Spice is fun. And Baby Spice? I love babies! And then there’s the bold, can’t-mess-with-me badassness of Scary Spice. I wanted to be them all. Which probably explains why I love Allspice so much—Mmmm. Hot wassail. I digress.
Who said Posh can’t also be Sporty? We intersect areas of interest in a million different ways all the time, and that’s fantastic. We certainly don’t have to be everything (and trying to be is a whole ‘nother story), but if we want to explore a little bit of everything, that’s okay.
So why in my mind, even after thinking and writing about this so many times, do I still treat my loves and areas of interest like people who can’t let their food touch on a plate? Friendship and business and fashion and faith and family and world-changing and creativity and community awareness and activism and advocacy and home decorating and politics and having fun should all be able to be cooked up in a tasty casserole that isn’t nitpicked by my own need to compartmentalize all these passions that a fourteen year old might have.
I think a little bit of analysis is good—it makes us contemplate our beliefs and ascribe some accountability to our choices. My sister and I recently got into a discussion about the ways we teach and model what we believe about beauty. “I tell everyone that what’s most important is inward beauty—that it doesn’t matter what they look like on the outside, and yet,” I argued, “I went to the store twice this week because I’m hung up on the fact that the orange tones in the red lipstick I just bought make my teeth look yellow.”
Maybe it has nothing to do with what I think and more to do with what other people think because, listen—I care what other people think. I just do, even though I’m learning not to so much. I find myself struggling to painstakingly find equilibrium with every choice I make today. Make sure everything adds up, aligns, checks out with what you believe. It’s like I’m looking for errors and contradictions in my own life, and there’s a word for people who do that in other people’s lives: Assholes. I’m being an asshole to my own self, and I need to quit.
Do I live in a way that contradicts what I preach? Maybe in some ways I do, and that's okay. Everything doesn't have to line up perfectly. Things will align eventually.
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes)
-Walt Whitman
There's also a paragraph in a book that says:
"…Even when his thoughts are most irrational and dreamlike, his writing follows them. “I cannot keep my subject still,” he says. “It goes along befuddled and staggering, with a natural drunkenness.” Anyone is free to go with him as far as seems desirable, and let him meander off by himself if it doesn’t…(and here’s the clincher)…sooner or later, your paths will cross again."
I’ve come back to that phrase—“sooner or later, your paths will cross again”—so many times. Shielding, defending, purposely preventing natural human contradictions just to make sure our identity lines up perfectly outwardly is exhausting and, frankly, a waste of energy that could be poured into our loves of life. When we truly let go and love what we love, without worrying if all of those loves line up, the contradictions will eventually cancel each other out, and our paths will cross again.
If I'm normally inclined to keep all of the food on my plate separated, then this week I made one hell of a casserole with all that I love. Amid googling "mint green loafers", doing extra credit assignments for math (because I'd rather die than get a B on my report card), reading inspiring stories, hiding under blankets while frantically tweeting and making tea, I realized that Twitter.com is one of the biggest contradictions I've ever come into contact with. I follow tens of people that are almost all complete opposites and I love each of them immensely. Talk about Kenny G meeting Jesus. All of these areas of interest that I normally exhaust myself in trying to connect the dots to dissolve contradictions? They’re having an Empowerment Potluck together on my timeline, and I’m only invited when I let go of my shit.
Here’s the thing: when you stop trying so goddamn hard to make the dots connect, they’ll connect.
Be who you are. Love what you love.
As I tweeted a few days ago: “When you’re not being who you really are because you’re trying to make sure you’re being real, then you’re denying who you are and that, in turn, is not real.”
Don’t try to be good; be good. Don’t try to impact the world; impact the world. Don't try to connect the dots or dissolve the contradictions or explain what it is you love and why. Just do your thing. Be your good. Love your loves. The dots will connect, and a beautiful picture you'll create.
***
“The simplicity that you obtain as a result of controlling your complexity is most satisfying.” Steve Jobs
How do we control that complexity? All those loves, those interests, those contradictions? We stop trying to control them. We invite them all to a party and trust that they'll get along with each other and find connections naturally, without our micromanaging.
"Fashion, meet Faith. I think you two might find something in common. Simplicity lover, meet Wants to Change the World. You two are totally going to hit it off."
Play Pharrell's "Happy" because that will get everybody dancing.
Stand back. Quietly take it in.
Don't freak out if not everyone is choosing to act crazy on the dance floor.
Let all those people, all those areas, all those loves, all those parts of you come alive on their own time, in their own way.
A charismatic dancer can also sit quietly and watch from the sidelines.
A humble thinker can also take silly selfies.
An analytical CPA can also dance barefoot in a puddle.
A world traveler can also burrow into the safe comforts of home.
A critical scientist can also write deep, reflective poems.
A woman can read and discuss Newsweek and also The New Yorker, Fifty Shades of Gray, Christianity Today and Scrapbooks, Etc.
Embrace it all.
I am a great many things, and I'm proud of it.
I cry when I read stories of struggle with self harm, or eating disorders, or loss and the coming through of it--it inspires me.
I swear like a sailor on Twitter and censor it all for this blog.
I believe in God, and communicating with him and connecting myself to his purpose is an important part of my life.
I have friends who don't believe in God.
I believe strongly in owning your voice and making a meaningful impact in the world with what you have to offer.
I often feel vulnerable and unworthy of making an impact.
I am passionate about changing people's views on disabilities and disorders and making the world a more accepting place for marginalized individuals.
I read fashion magazines and stress out when my toe nail polish gets chippy.
I love classical music.
I love techno music.
I love Doctor Who.
I love The Walking Dead.
I care about the environment.
I use a lot of paper towel.
I respect Catholic faith and Jewish faith and Muslim faith, though I am a Christian.
I love my atheist friends.
I dream of living on a quiet prairie, running in fields of wildflowers, smiling in the hot sun.
I dream of living in the big city, hosting parties, visiting museums, hailing cabs to our next big adventure.
I want to help people, connect with people, make the sad feel loved.
I like to buy stuff.
I like to make stuff.
I like to give stuff away.
Sometimes I feel so pissed off, I could knock walls down with my anger.
Sometimes I feel so weak and weepy, I could crumble if you looked at me funny.
Sometimes I feel so strong, I'll say whatever I think and not give a shit whether anyone agrees or not.
But all the time, I am complicated--maybe even contradictory.
Ladies--all the Ladies, let me hear you say: We are a great many things.
(I had a conversation with Mila that prompted me to write this. We can model clothes and also study architecture)
Happy birthday to myself. And my lovely friend Sofi.
Celebration of life.
No comments:
Post a Comment