I like to consider myself a fairly confident person. On the rare occasion that I am not entirely sure of myself (or am too oblivious to reality to notice how incredibly unprepared/unqualified I am for something), I am lucky to have friends and family who aren't afraid to tell me that I'm being a complete asshat.
That being said, there's always an Achilles heel, no? Show me a person who claims to have no weakness of heart or mind, and I'll show you a liar. Mine is bravery -- namely, my own. Today, I saw a physically disabled man walking/jogging - discman and all. His legs were visibly deformed -- his khaki shorts a triple dog dare for anyone to look at them. As I metaphorically ate my slice of humble pie, it occurred to me how brave he is. I am often far too lazy to workout my fully-capable body at the expensive gym to which I belong.
As if that didn't make me feel poorly enough, I later saw a troupe of dancers at the Lake Red Line station. One hairy guy was playing an acoustic guitar, and 3 young women in street clothes were dancing to his music. They were dressed in a typical "dancer" fashion - cut up jersey pieces, legwarmers on one, 17 tank tops askew on the shoulders of another. They were so enraptured by their own kinetics, that it was as if they weren't even aware of their surroundings. As they bounced off steel columns, wooden benches, and yellow construction cones, they looked blissfully unaware of my judgment. Initially my reaction was, "You've got to be kidding me - what is this?! Some live modern dance project for college?" Judgmental, I know. My open disregard for modern dance is another topic for another day. Then it occurred to me that I have no place to judge them - my days as a dancer and dance instructor are regrettably behind me. What makes me an expert - I'm clearly jealous in a way, but not? Who the hell am I to sit in judgement of them? Humbled again.
Then the gears in my mind continue to turn, and the inevitable question surfaces again: Have I been brave enough? Am I really a weak person in a strong person's suit? Where do I fall on the brave continuum? How do you know when you've been brave, or do you have to wait until you make the easy decision, only to regret it? (For those of you wonderful folks out there who subscribe to the mantra "Life is too short for regrets," that really great and all, but I'm not there yet.) Moreover, aren't I a bit young to be having this crisis of conscience repeatedly? The whole point of youth is to get messy, make mistakes, and ride the rollercoaster learning curve that is adulthood.
Was I so worried about growing up that I missed the point entirely? I don't know which is more painful to think about: the questions, or the answers.
That being said, there's always an Achilles heel, no? Show me a person who claims to have no weakness of heart or mind, and I'll show you a liar. Mine is bravery -- namely, my own. Today, I saw a physically disabled man walking/jogging - discman and all. His legs were visibly deformed -- his khaki shorts a triple dog dare for anyone to look at them. As I metaphorically ate my slice of humble pie, it occurred to me how brave he is. I am often far too lazy to workout my fully-capable body at the expensive gym to which I belong.
As if that didn't make me feel poorly enough, I later saw a troupe of dancers at the Lake Red Line station. One hairy guy was playing an acoustic guitar, and 3 young women in street clothes were dancing to his music. They were dressed in a typical "dancer" fashion - cut up jersey pieces, legwarmers on one, 17 tank tops askew on the shoulders of another. They were so enraptured by their own kinetics, that it was as if they weren't even aware of their surroundings. As they bounced off steel columns, wooden benches, and yellow construction cones, they looked blissfully unaware of my judgment. Initially my reaction was, "You've got to be kidding me - what is this?! Some live modern dance project for college?" Judgmental, I know. My open disregard for modern dance is another topic for another day. Then it occurred to me that I have no place to judge them - my days as a dancer and dance instructor are regrettably behind me. What makes me an expert - I'm clearly jealous in a way, but not? Who the hell am I to sit in judgement of them? Humbled again.
Then the gears in my mind continue to turn, and the inevitable question surfaces again: Have I been brave enough? Am I really a weak person in a strong person's suit? Where do I fall on the brave continuum? How do you know when you've been brave, or do you have to wait until you make the easy decision, only to regret it? (For those of you wonderful folks out there who subscribe to the mantra "Life is too short for regrets," that really great and all, but I'm not there yet.) Moreover, aren't I a bit young to be having this crisis of conscience repeatedly? The whole point of youth is to get messy, make mistakes, and ride the rollercoaster learning curve that is adulthood.
Was I so worried about growing up that I missed the point entirely? I don't know which is more painful to think about: the questions, or the answers.
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