What It’s All About

{Warning: This is a deep, thought-provoking post. Be warned.}

I’ve been thinking a lot about life recently, and the choices that led to where I am today. In business, I think I’ve made some pretty smart choices—not without some luck here and there, as well as some really great opportunities. In the past three years since I graduated, I have been promoted from editorial intern to associate editor. I’ve written feature articles; had my own column that I saw from idea to fruition; handled departments; managed three separate websites, including a site redesign; managed an intensive web-based database system transition process for my own publication—as well as my company’s other three publications’ DBs; worked on trade show development and management; helped with content development for the upcoming year’s editorial calendar; and even dabbled in some marketing plan creation. All in all, this girl has had her hands in many different pots.

However, in my personal life, I’m not sure I’m the brightest crayon in the box. I’d like to think I’m a cool Horizon Blue or maybe Claret Red, but instead I feel like Peach Bloom. Part of the source of the problem is a deep-seated insecurity about myself that holds me back in so many ways. Whether it’s a social situation I feel uncomfortable about for whatever reason or a misread sign that sends me reeling about a relationship, I’m always feeling misguided when it comes to my interactions with the outside world.

I can relate to caged animals in an oddly strange way. I tend to feel a piercing glare from the outside world through the glass panels of my idealistic personal bubble. Partly in my head and definitely skewed, I live my life as if I were under a microscope—an instrument that I have played a large part in creating for myself. I know, when I rationalize it all out, that it is all in my head. Seriously. But the emotions start rolling and I become overwhelmed and lost, thus sending me into a perpetual spiral of self-doubt, public embarrassment and personal resentment.

What do I mean by this? I mean I doubt myself (for whatever reason), which makes me uncomfortable. This discomfort quickly becomes apparent because I wear my emotions on my sleeve, thus creating a likely situation for me to embarrass myself—or at least make other people uncomfortable or think me strange. Since I like to analyze my actions, I then resent whatever has transpired and blame myself for the occurrence.

I know I shouldn’t be this hard on myself. Everyone makes mistakes on a daily basis and they forgive themselves, but some time when I was a young I learned the awful lesson of perfectionism that must have, in my mind, sounded like a great personal mantra to live by. As I age, I realize this is absolutely ridiculous and a scenario of which no one can live up to, nor tolerate for long. I am one of those people. However, old habits are hard to break and the cycle continues, to my dismay.

Since I obviously tend to think about things until I’m blue in the face, I’ve been thinking about my attitude, my personality, my faults … yadda, yadda, yadda … over the past few months—contemplating what I can do to improve my overall general self impression and gain some personal contentment. I’ve conveyed these feelings to various friends to get varying perspectives and feedback. A lot of this has been momentarily helpful and inspirational.

A good friend of mine recounted a story she had heard not too long ago about becoming overwhelmed and forcing yourself to relax and let life take its course. “Just float,” she said. “Or you struggle unnecessarily.” It’s true—when you panic and flail your arms, you’ll sink in your efforts to navigate the waters of life. Good idea, right? However, floating can denote that you’re actively not participating in your own life. “Floater” is synonymous with “slacker,” or “loser,” or at least that’s what my hyper Type A personality side tells me. “But do you want to “float” by all the events in your life?” it asks.

At work, my co-workers and I commonly tell each other to “just keep swimming.” It worked for Dori, it should work for the rest of us, right? But “just keep swimming” is somewhat daunting too, if you think about it. An endless journey of constant motion of which there is no end? Wow, life from that viewpoint sounds like it sucks!

I have a set of Zen Cards by Daniel Levin I got at Goodwill awhile back. When I remember, which isn’t often, I change the card every day. Today was just one of those lucky days that I switched it up. Today’s card read as follows:

Tao

Tao is truth.
Follow it.
Meditate on it.
Become it.
Then forget it.
Only then can you live it.

What? You want me to follow truth, focus on it, become it, then after all of that, forget it? Don’t get me wrong. I actually am very interested and intrigued with Buddhist ideologies (see my most recent book I picked up). I’ve also picked up the Tao of Pooh and The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Understanding Buddhism. I’m still working on finishing all of these great works, but it’s a process like anything else. But needless to say, I was not at all inspired by today’s random zen.

I’ve heard all kinds of anecdotal sayings in getting through the daily minutia of the mundane and ordinary that could help at times like these. “Mamma said there’d be days like this, there’d be days like this, my mamma said,” “Look on the sunny side of life,” “The grass is always greener,” “The sun will come out tomorrow.” While all profound, they miss the general point of what’s really going on. Which is? Ultimately being OK with yourself and where you’ll end up. That’s something very difficult for someone like me to grasp. I like being in control. Wait, I am in control, I tell myself. I like order and organization. Ask any of my friends, they’ll tell you with a resounding “She’s kinda crazy like that.”

When I was in elementary school, I organized my books into a library and put their titles on 3×5 index cards. As I got older, I turned my movie collection into a 3×5 indexed library in a Winnie the Pooh sticker decorated index card organizer (what’s with my index card obsession?). (Now my movie “library” has been transferred into my Palm just in case Target is having a DVD sale. This may seem ridiculous, but when you have 300 plus titles, it’s hard to keep track of what you’re still looking for.)

So I’m a control freak—and I kind of like it. And I need to work on being OK with me, which is hard but must be done. So I’m going to work on floating as I keep swimming through the life of tao. Or something like that.