Waiting for a revelation, I think, maybe
I have decided that if you stare into the mirror long enough, examining the shadows, the pores, the asymmetries of your face, eventually some great revelation about yourself and the rest of the universe will pop into your head.
I cannot control what I get in life. I cannot control whether people keep up their end of the bargain, whether it’s my boyfriend, my boss or the mechanics who suddenly need an extra two days to fix my fucking car. I cannot control that the neighbor left the hedge trimmer but took the cord for it, and I cannot control that the “hedge” (dead stumps with weeds growing up them) is growing like the weed it is, now long overdue for a trim. I cannot control that there are some stains that the Spray N Wash Stain Stick simply cannot remove on its own. I’m pretty sure I can’t control that so many things remind me of other things I don’t want to think about. And I’m quite sure that I cannot control whether any nearby shoe stores carry the perfect grey pumps that I designed in my head and now desperately want. All of these things are external to me, and whether I brush them off or spend weeks obsessing, they’re not going to change much.
That is what the mirror told me tonight.
But the things I give in life, those are the things I can control. I can control whether I show up at work looking like shit in addition to feeling like shit. I can control whether I finish the book on my nightstand or just glare at it, reminding me off all the other things I’d meant to do by now, such as trimming the hedge and getting that damn stain out. I can control whether I go back and fix the little mistakes that will drive me crazy later. I can control how many empty Coke cans need to be moved to the recycling bin (I walked away from my keyboard to round them up: two at my desk, twelve in the sink). And it’s all just a matter of taking that control and exercising it.
I’ve never been terribly motivated. I’ve never had any real sense of purpose. And it’s hard to find fulfillment from things you do out of a sense of obligation rather than out of genuine desire.
And so I’m back at this place where I always find myself, this place where I want, more than anything, to discover a meaningful goal, a finish line to aim for. Because I understand how to get across a finish line. The “how” has never been a challenge for me. It’s the “what” that has always escaped me. And I really, really want to want something.
Looking in the mirror, noticing that somehow there is more fat around the left side of my jaw than my right, even though I can’t think of a reason why that would be, it occurs to me that I am at least vaguely capable of setting short-term goals. Lose ten pounds. Reconsider that maybe cosmetics are not 100% the tools of Satan. Further develop my sense of craftsmanship by knitting a sweater that actually fits.
But the mirror has no advice for me on developing long term goals or discovering any real passion for anything. I’m still stumped there. I’ve read articles about how my generation suffers from perpetual ennui, so maybe mine is not a personal problem but a generational problem. Maybe, relatively speaking, nothing is wrong or abnormal about me at all. Maybe the fact that I find my happiness in small daily things, like a cold Diet Coke and puppies and kittens and sarcasm and television, instead of big things that matter, like curing diseases or passing good laws or being the best at something, is something I should appreciate more.
I’m not sure what my point is. I think it might be that in a general sense, I lack a point. And that society (read: television) has told me that I am supposed to have one. And I’m not sure if that means that I need to seriously start working on finding my point, or that I have actually discovered the real ultimate truth: that there is no point.
In conclusion: Lots of points. Can’t keep score of them. Willing to accept relevant advice or anecdotes.
Katie’s problem is to Kevin’s problem as beef is to meat from a cow. Just another way of saying the same thing.
Comment by Kevin — 9/26/2006 @ 12:38 am
There is no point. You can pick one out, big or small, if you like. That said, am in much the same dilemma: what now? I always thought at this point something, the right thing, would present itself (I hope I’ve gotten past the isely-induced feeling it has to be “big & important”) because I’ve followed all the right steps. Rather, I find myself backed into a corner, with the only opportunities being those I KNOW I don’t want to pursue. Let me know if you come upon anything constructive.
Comment by Molly — 9/26/2006 @ 5:42 am
I’ve learned that even if you do all of the “right” things and take all the “right” steps you can still end up in the midst of a giant disaster. The point - do what makes you happy. Someone once told me that the secret of happiness is to decide what is important to you and then to never apologize for it. I think that is very smart. Sometimes it’s important to lay on the couch, watch grey’s anatomy, and eat takeout in your pjs.. and that’s enough… and that’s ok.
Comment by Diana — 9/26/2006 @ 7:24 pm
Glad to hear someone else stares in the mirror searching for abstact theories of motivation.
By the way, never really noticed it before, but you write very well.
Comment by Kyle — 9/27/2006 @ 3:00 pm