So, I just had a revelation about myself. Yes. At eleven thirty on a Friday night after swigging a mug of really... weird ... coffee, I've come upon an inspiring realization. You know in cartoons when the lightbulb appears above the cartoon character's head (right now I'm thinking specifically of Goofy for some reason) and the light turns on, zing! They've had an enlightening idea! and then Goofy reaches up and pulls the little cord and turns off the lightbulb and does whatever the revelation has just told him to.
Wow. That was a tangent. What was I saying?
Yes.
I've had a revelation about myself. It doesn't necessarily have anything to do with my life. You know I'm getting REALLY tired of people constantly contradicting what I say about myself. I say something like, "I get really stupid. I confuse myself altogether too much." and then the person will say something like, "You're not stupid. You're a very intelligent person. It just has something to do with your creativity level." As if this person knows ALL about me and can tell Me all about Myself. Okay. I guess you have been living in my brain for eighteen years and can suddenly tell me more about how my mind and body works than even I can. I guess you're right. NO. See, when I say things like that, it's because I am revealing something about myself that I've lived and grown with. It's part of my personality, take it or leave it. And if you can't take it, then screw you (and I mean that with the highest and utmost respect, of course.) Once, my mother and I were talking about a situation my sister once found herself in... I'm not sure what it was. My memory isn't so great. But I remember my reply was something like, "I would just never be comfortable with that." and my Mom's answer I will never forget. She simply said, "You know, Hannah, I think that shows that you really know yourself." She told me that I was clear-minded enough to just know. That reply in itself made me realize how incredibly intelligent and wonderfully admirable my mother is. I've always known she is intelligent and admirable, but what she said to me really hit it home, and I won't ever forget that. Who knows you better than... yourself?
Okay. That was an even LONGER tangent. You see, I'm explaining things to myself. Coffee is a good thing.
My point of all this is that I've come to an interteresting conclusion about a characteristic flaw about myself. It is that I don't drive myself hard enough. I don't go the extra mile. Okay, so I've always known that about myself. It's hard for me to reach out of my comfort zone. (Right now I'm picturing this big pink bubble, and pulling myself out of it, one arm at a time, then my head, now a leg, and I'm yankin myself out of that stupid pink bubble that I've been building around myself for most of my life.) It would be so easy for me to be creative, to inspire people with the talent God has given me. But I'm too afraid of going over board. I'm afraid that if I do go the extra mile, but it turns out to be the extra mile and a half... or even the extra two miles, people will basically think I'm stupid and pathetic.--She goes way overboard with everything. She can't be sensible and stop, she always has to go further. It's like she's trying to out do everyone.-- I've realized tonight, that THAT is what's wrong with me. I could do so much more with the "talent on loan from God" but I'm too afraid, too timid, too worried and obsessed with what people might think of me to be different. That's why I admire those people who (at least on the outside) never give a second thought to what other people think. --It doesn't matter. My life is my life, and only I can make something truly wonderful out of it. --It's like the particular duty God put before us when he gave us the gift of a certain talent. My problem is I need too much pushing. I have to be pushed or coaxed into everything. People eventually get tired of pushing and they stop, and then I'm in a rut, and I can't go forward and I can't go backward. I'm that bandwagon person people always talk about. The person who holds on to the wagon with a vice-like grip and refuses to fall off. Maybe... my grip is slacking a bit. I hope it is. The problem is which bandwagon I WANT to fall off, and which one I DON'T. Well, I kind of know which one I would like to fall off... but which one do I want to stay on? That's a dilemma. That's what my life is all about. Deciding which bandwagon I need to secure with a vice-like grip, and which one I should just tumble off of. If God has given me a special ability, perhaps he will also give me, or show me, what and where that ability goes in the whole scheme of... LIFE.
What a scary thought. Because really, for me it depend so much on the people in my surroundings. Maybe God is telling me I shouldn't be on a bandwagon at all. Maybe I'm supposed to make my own. Maybe not even a bandwagon for lots of people... maybe just a bicycle, built for only me... a bicycle that only I pedal. I don't know... I just keep guessing.
But maybe... the solution lies within a mug of really strong sugary coffee at eleven thirty on a Friday night. Maybe.
