Tonight's Poet Corner: Introspection
During certain days - and sometimes as long as weeks at a time - my opinions of my self-adequacy fluctuate. It's no secret that while I am an obvious extrovert about, say, eighty percent of the time; I, like a lot of other human beings, harbor pretty strong insecurities not just about my looks (weight included), but also about my skill set, perception of talent, social strengths, and relationships.
This is not to say I'm paranoid or fragile. After all, I have plenty of moments in which I'll say, "I'm particularly proud of this line" in a story or poem that I might be reading to a friend or family member. And I certainly will be pumped up and optimistic enough to call myself a badass when I do something valuable from time to time. But moments are moments, and moods are moods. And during some spaces of time, my confidence in my self-worth and my work tends to deplete, leaving me in an awkward spot mentally and emotionally.
Sometimes I'll feel very tired or nonchalant or just plain "blah" about everything, struck with a certain chord of ennui. Which explains why some nights, I feel my poetry or my fiction is more contrived or stiff. That's normal, obviously, with any sort of creative mind; sometimes, you have off-nights or off-days or even off-weeks and off-months. Other times, I'll be very anxious or stressed. This in particular happens a lot in my job. I have screwed up a few times, and only recently was I actually told, during an evaluation, to forgive myself for my screw-ups and not feel obligated to let people know if I had screwed up and how badly I felt as a result. From my supervisors, there was a lot of concern pertaining to my mental well-being in an education job. Suggestions were made to practice self-care and putting aside work after I leave the school or the office or what-not (sometimes that's hard, of course, as that's all I really have to talk about).
In the end, a lot of times, that described tension gets pent up because I have very few friends up north, and my friends down south have their own lives and own responsibilities and own worries and they can't always be there for me - I, admittedly, can't always be there for them, either. But as a result, I don't have a lot of platforms to project my mindset on. I don't have a lot of people to vent to, and even if I did, I have this gut instinct to hide it all because I feel like all I'm doing is inconveniencing people with my "whining" and sounding like I need continual affirmation. Which I don't - not continually, at least. But sometimes, it's nice.
The reason why I didn't exactly pound out a solid introspection last week (given that was the week of my evaluation and I actually took Friday off from work because my supervisors suggested that I give myself a break because I've been, according to them, working hard) was because 1. I was with my girlfriend, who had a very busy and somewhat stressful quarter and all we wanted to do was cuddle, and 2. I was performing as an alum for this chorus that I was a part of for six years (1998-2004). My choral director, who I've known for a long time, is one of my most trusted mentors; she also was one of my very first queer mentors. She incited my passion for music and singing in a lot of ways, and standing in a group again, singing beautiful pieces and getting back into my alto space, was invigorating. I didn't need people telling me how awesome I was to feel more adequate. I was doing something I enjoyed, with people who I loved, and it made me feel good.
I know that my art will always keep me level-headed (ironically enough), and that if I keep writing, singing, playing guitar, and performing, I'll always have a chance to rediscover things about myself or the world. I also know that the people who I love, and who love me, may not always give me thumbs up or pep talks. But they will give me hugs, and they will give me kisses, and they will remind me that they want me in their lives, for whatever possible reason I could fathom in my tired mind. And I'm very grateful for that. I really, really am.
So I dedicate this introspection to a lot of people, including but not limited to my girlfriend, Arden (I love you, mo chuisle); my amazing and inspiring choral director, Martha (beautiful lady); and my sister, Jocelyn (who is wonderful and I hope has a lovely day tomorrow). I thank all of you for your continued presence in my life. I will keep writing, teaching, learning, and loving - because no matter how I feel about myself, you give me the spirit and courage to progress in everything that I do regardless. Thank you.
Writer's Quotation of the Night:
Writing is a dreadful labor, yet not so dreadful as Idleness.
- Thomas Carlyle
Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.
This is not to say I'm paranoid or fragile. After all, I have plenty of moments in which I'll say, "I'm particularly proud of this line" in a story or poem that I might be reading to a friend or family member. And I certainly will be pumped up and optimistic enough to call myself a badass when I do something valuable from time to time. But moments are moments, and moods are moods. And during some spaces of time, my confidence in my self-worth and my work tends to deplete, leaving me in an awkward spot mentally and emotionally.
Sometimes I'll feel very tired or nonchalant or just plain "blah" about everything, struck with a certain chord of ennui. Which explains why some nights, I feel my poetry or my fiction is more contrived or stiff. That's normal, obviously, with any sort of creative mind; sometimes, you have off-nights or off-days or even off-weeks and off-months. Other times, I'll be very anxious or stressed. This in particular happens a lot in my job. I have screwed up a few times, and only recently was I actually told, during an evaluation, to forgive myself for my screw-ups and not feel obligated to let people know if I had screwed up and how badly I felt as a result. From my supervisors, there was a lot of concern pertaining to my mental well-being in an education job. Suggestions were made to practice self-care and putting aside work after I leave the school or the office or what-not (sometimes that's hard, of course, as that's all I really have to talk about).
In the end, a lot of times, that described tension gets pent up because I have very few friends up north, and my friends down south have their own lives and own responsibilities and own worries and they can't always be there for me - I, admittedly, can't always be there for them, either. But as a result, I don't have a lot of platforms to project my mindset on. I don't have a lot of people to vent to, and even if I did, I have this gut instinct to hide it all because I feel like all I'm doing is inconveniencing people with my "whining" and sounding like I need continual affirmation. Which I don't - not continually, at least. But sometimes, it's nice.
The reason why I didn't exactly pound out a solid introspection last week (given that was the week of my evaluation and I actually took Friday off from work because my supervisors suggested that I give myself a break because I've been, according to them, working hard) was because 1. I was with my girlfriend, who had a very busy and somewhat stressful quarter and all we wanted to do was cuddle, and 2. I was performing as an alum for this chorus that I was a part of for six years (1998-2004). My choral director, who I've known for a long time, is one of my most trusted mentors; she also was one of my very first queer mentors. She incited my passion for music and singing in a lot of ways, and standing in a group again, singing beautiful pieces and getting back into my alto space, was invigorating. I didn't need people telling me how awesome I was to feel more adequate. I was doing something I enjoyed, with people who I loved, and it made me feel good.
I know that my art will always keep me level-headed (ironically enough), and that if I keep writing, singing, playing guitar, and performing, I'll always have a chance to rediscover things about myself or the world. I also know that the people who I love, and who love me, may not always give me thumbs up or pep talks. But they will give me hugs, and they will give me kisses, and they will remind me that they want me in their lives, for whatever possible reason I could fathom in my tired mind. And I'm very grateful for that. I really, really am.
So I dedicate this introspection to a lot of people, including but not limited to my girlfriend, Arden (I love you, mo chuisle); my amazing and inspiring choral director, Martha (beautiful lady); and my sister, Jocelyn (who is wonderful and I hope has a lovely day tomorrow). I thank all of you for your continued presence in my life. I will keep writing, teaching, learning, and loving - because no matter how I feel about myself, you give me the spirit and courage to progress in everything that I do regardless. Thank you.
Writer's Quotation of the Night:
Writing is a dreadful labor, yet not so dreadful as Idleness.
- Thomas Carlyle
Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.
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