Self Perceptions and Misperceptions

Benjamin Braddock and I have more in common than one might expect, disallusioned with the American dream and not sure where to find the answers. In the midst of trying to wrestle my way to a conclusion, I have come to realize that maybe i'm pushing for and striving towards something I don't really want.

While I love art and culture, I also love communities and neighborhoods. I have a huge amount of vision-vision to creatively change the world-, but in reality I want the small and simple. And, the more I think about it, the more I come to understand that the small and simple can change the world just as significantly as the grandiose. I don't want the million dollar mansion, nannyed kids, and husband who regularly works late and ends up in the news for his great achievements. I don't want to be the cultural elite, either. What I want is actually remarkably simple. I want to knit myself closely with a community and use elements of beauty and intentionality to nurture it. For too long, I have been trying to conjur up the dream career, with the perfect assimilation of artists, urban planners, and social entrepreneurs at my side. And I have been trying to turn life in the power center of the world into something that it's not. Two things in me are at war-the corroded self that wants pats on the back, prestige, and nice clothes; and the other self. The other self, the real self, knows these things won't satisfy and knows that people who live simply are usually more content. So, as I cram my brain with more social theories, line my shelves with all the latest cultural commentaries, and prance my little self around acting like I have it all figured out at a mere three and a half years over twenty, I cringe at my own short-sightedness. While it's nice to dream of better things, what I want isn't so hard to come by.

Tonight, after a very hard day and a few hours crying on the phone I found myself driving along the Potomac up to Mt. Vernon late at night, pondering and breathing. Ah, yes, breathing; breathing in tree branches illuminated by the moonlight, breathing in a silent mist hovering over the water, breathing in the goodness of simple pleasures. In taking this drive I was reminded of all the wonderful days spent biking along the water to Mt. Vernon this past summer, days spent soaking in the warm sunshine, admiring the cattails, and catching glimpses of family picnics at the water's edge. Somewhere along the way, I lost touch with that woman and I want to rekindle that sense of being. It's the same woman who treasures Farmers Markets with beautiful flowers on Saturday mornings, the one who spends hours concocting new recipies to try out on family and friends, the one who'd drop everything in college if a friend in need called, the one woh loves the exuberance and tender love of young children. Now, i've created a life for myself where it's necessary to maintain intense boundaries daily just to keep myself sane. What happened to the girl who once took life slow and didn't pretend to have all the answers? I want that small-town Carolina girl, who grew up playing in the woods and creating adventures that lasted all afternoon, back. Tonight, I rediscovered her, and I want to start livng less like my self-imposed ideal and more like my tender, creative real self.

Some words spoken from the heart, for whatever they are worth.