Oh how I love thee. How I love sitting in my bed, unable to watch Gossip Girl, or read, or play on the internet, or go to the gym, or hang out with friends, or snuggle with the baby. There were things I had hoped to do for the end of 2010 and the beginning of 2011, things I had hoped to complete before school begins, but this illness had other plans. First, it attacked Casey. Then it attacked Wayne. Then it hit me. And then Melissa, and Leslie, and the kid, and Scott, and Garrett, and Jared. It didn't hit Whitney and it didn't hit Amanda. I hate them and their perfect immune systems. Mine is clearly not perfect. Guess I'm just not immune.
I think I'm going to be okay with that, though. Resolutions are made to be broken, but in years past I've resolved to change something, or to at least attempt change. Living dangerously (love me some Nietzsche) is always floating around the top of the list. Adopting some of Benjamin Franklin's advice is a popular one, too. But this year, I need to remember that slow and steady wins the race. Success does not equal perfection, and success does not equal happiness. I wish to find the joy in my failures, my inadequacies, my frustrations, and my mediocrity. Because I believe once reconciled with that fact, I will be able to grow and change and develop in a way that will last. I won't burn myself out and I will be there on a path with my loved ones. I know it's possible to be successful, and happy, and calm, and a little bit perfect, and a little bit mediocre: the people I look up to the most espouse all of these traits.
The trick in 2011 is going to be starting my own path of successful mediocrity - finding those ways in which I can excel and being completely content with other areas of imperfection. So I vow to be honest, if not to you, then to Whitney, or to Emily, or to Erika, or to Leslie, or to Melissa. And I vow to be honest to the Lord, because he provides the only true reconciliation.
I also vow to move on, play lots of Settlers of Catan, read more novels, do my laundry more often, and go to the temple monthly.
But if I'm imperfect? If I fall short? I vow to be okay and try again the next day.
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who am I?
Writers are, deep in their souls, didacts who itch to deliver the Unvarnished Truth and cannot help but unburden themselves of that which burns in their hearts. Writers are preachers.
-Brian Doyle
About Me
- Jen
- I'm curious, openly opinionated, and addicted to writing. Unfortunately I don't think of my audience all that often, so enjoy what will eventually evolve into my memoir - and at that time, you should definitely buy it.
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2011
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January
(22)
- there's a really good story that goes with this.
- cocoon.
- tainted victory.
- my brain is full.
- overused phrases.
- post script.
- counting.
- .
- blackout.
- next Batman movie is on its way.
- I'm pretty sure my character is a girl.
- by the way.
- to whom it may concern.
- whatever makes you happy.
- in need of some zen.
- seriously now.
- on content.
- I was bored.
- just out of curiosity.
- why write.
- Scotty!
- influenza
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January
(22)
1 comment:
Great entry. " One of the greatest lessons is learning how to fail successfully." Those who don't try, don't fail. Those who fail and give up simply stagnate. But those who learn from their failures understand that failure properly managed can become one of your best friends. May 2011 bring you peace in the midst of great successes, managed failures, and the interim mediocrity that in some cases might last a lifetime.
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