My one professor, who said he would be happy to recommend me for graduate school, hasn't turned in his letter. It was due on Saturday. The popular consensus is that I have to call him and speak to him directly about it. I mean, most likely he forgot (he's busy! and also a poet), and probably once I mention it he'll immediately feel terrible and send it in. But ... I don't want to call him. It feels so horribly confrontational. I don't want to make him feel bad, and I don't want to be in his face about a huge favor he is doing for me. I know, I know, he said he would, and it would just be being assertive--I get all of this. But it doesn't change the fact that presenting the problem to him (and in an actual conversation, not behind the safety of email) is terrifying.
Confrontation is one of those cliche things to be afraid of, and therefore, it really annoys me that I am so afraid of it. Especially because I also know exactly which childhood event made me hate it so much, and which other past events fueled that fear, and it's all so textbook that I feel like I really just need to get over it. And to make matters worse, the few times I do choose to be confrontational are usually influenced by adrenaline (or sometimes alcohol, but I never said that) and I go a little overboard and cause problems rather than actually being helpful. I have approximately one friend (you know who you are) with whom I am blatantly, confrontationally honest, but that's because our relationship started off that way. I was at a time in my life when I didn't have a lot to lose, and I was sick of not saying what I thought. That time, unfortunately, has passed.
What I hate most about this situation is the fact that it's not just about confrontation in the "let me tell you something you may or may not want to hear" sense. It's about how I live my life, and how I present myself to other people. It's about being afraid to be a person who makes a statement. It's about having people in my life who I really like, and want desperately to like me, but I spend so much time trying not to be a certain way that I forget to have a personality at all. And then when I let go and act like myself, I over-analyze other people's reactions and try to adapt my personality to fit what I think they want. Problem A: I'm really bad at reading people. Problem B: seriously, Piera? how old are you again? Apparently I never grew up past sophomore year. (actually, ironically, I was more outgoing in tenth grade than I am now. I try not to think about that.)
For example, I like the way I look without glasses. But aside from the fact that my eyes are totally messed up and it's hard for me to focus on things--it's scary not to wear them. I have big plastic colorful frames and I like them because they make a statement, and because people notice my glasses and not my face. It's not even that I don't like my face. I just feel exposed without something bold between me and the other person.
And then there's all this second-guessing before I even start a thing. I can't just let it be what it is, and deal with things as they come--I have to analyze it all and troubleshoot all the possible outcomes and then I end up not getting started in the first place. I downloaded the Couch-to-5K app on my phone, because I really do want to have some kind of workout routine. Partially it's to be healthy, partially it's to see if I'm less tired all the time, partially it's because I want to feel better about my body, partially (mostly?) it's because I want to still look good after I have babies, and I guess I should probably start that now. And I've heard good things about the Couch to 5K program, and it sounds kind of excellent because I have NO exercise in my life right now... but then there are all these factors to think about. Do I pay $1.99 for the actual app or just use the free knockoff version? Which three days of the week will I work out? Should I get a gym membership so I don't have to run in the icky cold snow? Should I go by distance or by time? Should I start doing yoga on my non-running days? Can I just get a yoga dvd and hope that I'm doing it right, or should I join a class? When will I have time for all of this?
...see problem B, above.
It's not like it's even that hard. The whole idea is you just ... start doing it, and see how it works out, and take it slow, and ease yourself into it. But apparently that's not good enough for me. I have to know what I'm doing and how it will work and I have to have a Plan before I can start doing anything. And then, you guessed it, nothing ever changes. Because I don't have the answers and I'm mostly just afraid to find out on my own.
It gets to me because I know better. I have a foundation that is stronger than my emotions, and more important than whether people like me. I am saved by grace through faith; I am living as a person who is free; God's grace toward me was not in vain. I know all of this. I think somewhere at my core I really do believe all of it--I just don't know how to make it relevant. There is a disconnect somewhere between eternal salvation and my everyday life. Because salvation matters on the grand, life-and-death-and-hope-and-a-future scale, and my personal interaction ... doesn't. Because I can't see how it matters whether I feel comfortable in my skin, whether people like me, whether I feel confident and useful and worthy. I believe so much in design and in the grand construction of time and the world, and I believe so strongly in καιρός (the Greek term for "the perfect moment" or "suitable/favorable occasion"), that I've taught myself not to worry about each individual moment. Time is fleeting, and what matters now won't matter in the end, so why bother worrying?
This belief is both a huge relief and a huge hindrance. On the one hand--if it doesn't matter, and if time is fleeting, why be anxious about asking my professor about his letter? The moment will pass. Be bold, be confident, live your life because you only have right now to do it. But it also makes it harder to get anything done, because if the moment will pass then why bother doing anything in the first place? My self-consciousness, my personality, my whole existence is just a moment in time in the grand scheme of things, so why should it be relevant? Does God's grace extend even to my feeling confident in everyday conversation, to my ability to speak clearly and boldly and without fear?
I know it does. I know it does, and that asking these questions is ridiculous. I was in Sunday school, I know all the stories about Jesus' love for his people. He turned water into wine at a wedding--how relevant was that on the grand scale, compared to feeding 5000 people or, you know, coming back to life? He hung out with the outcasts, and taught them, sure, but also probably just ... chilled, had conversation over dinner, that sort of thing. I know that God's love for the world doesn't just pertain to our salvation, but also to our lives--he knows how many hairs we have, he created our faces and our abilities and our preferences, he wants us to be happy. How many times have I said this to people or written about this or fallen back on it to shake off anxiety or depression? Like I said, I know better.
It's just ... hard. It's hard to remember that the little things matter. It's hard to remember that I matter, that people do like talking to me, that my professor will probably appreciate me calling him up to remind him about his letter because he really does want me to succeed. It's hard to look at the past and know where all these problems started, and then say "well, that sucked, but it's time to move on," but it's even harder to actually do it. It's hard to get off my ass and get stuff done, because it's so much easier and safer to stay here in my living room watching Bones than it is to take up new projects.
I'm going to call my professor, because it's more important for me to try to get into grad school than it is for me to be angsty about it. I'm (hopefully) going for a run (well, a walk) today because I want to start being healthier, but check back in a few weeks to see if I've made any progress. I went in and auditioned for a play because I miss acting, and it was kind of intimidating not to be around Concordia people who are supportive and fun, but I did it, and I feel pretty good about how it went down.
So there's all that. I need to hold on to my baptized, spiritual nature, and I need to remember that every moment, however temporary, counts for something. It doesn't count for everything, but that doesn't mean it isn't important.
And I need to remember that that same principle applies to me.
