Epiphany

I've had some suspicions in the past few months, but today I made a full realization: I don't know where I belong.  Let me provide some context.

As I've probably mentioned, I'm taking an intermediate Spanish course this semester (the second to last one I need) and we have a writing assignment.  Our professor provided the two options beforehand so we could prepare.  We can't use what we write, but we can organize our thoughts and iron out some of the kinks so we can complete our essay in class--and possibly leave some time to spare.

One of the questions, which seems easy at first, is: Write about two groups that you consider yourself to be a member of.  There are more parts to this like, who are members, are the groups diverse, etc.  I wanted to do this essay, but I realized I don't know what groups I belong to.  I could say America, or Virginia, or whatever, but I don't really feel at home here.  I felt much more at home when I was in Costa Rica.  I'd say I'm a member of the Female Group, but I feel at odds with my gender a lot of the time.  I'm part of the Milennials, but again, I'm a little old to be with them and a little young to be Gen X.  I have characteristics of both generations.  I'd say I'm part of the community of my employer, but I'm at a point where I feel like I've outgrown it (the grapevine, the passion of the topic, the willingness to sacrifice my personal life).  I have different priorities.  I'm part of my school's community, but only as a technicality.  Other than that, I'm part of my own personal community of my family.  I'm a wife and a mother.  Those seem like groups in which I could feel like part of a community, but as a divorcee and remarried woman, my wife classification is a little funky and as a relatively young mother, I struggle to fit in with other moms.  I'm too old to be a teen mom and too young to be included among my daughter's classmates' mothers.

Maybe the larger issue is that I struggle with my identity, even at this stage in my life.  I know that I am young, but I've reached many of the different levels in the game of life.  Again, I'm a wife and a mother.  I have a mortgage, life insurance, and a will.  I've lost my father, a father-in-law, my grandparents, and nearly my mother.  I'm a former store manager who hasn't graduated college.  I'm a feminine woman who is not girly.  I'm a gamer, an athlete, and an artist.  I love turtles, Ninja Turtles, Batman, Miyazaki, sci-fi, fantasy, real-life crime dramas, but I don't dig Dungeons and Dragons, cosplay, dogs or horses.  I'm a mix of many things.  Jack of all trades, yet master of none.  It's filling a lot of roles, but none completely.

Perhaps it's a lack of personal achievement in ways I find meaningful.  I love my children.  I'm proud of delivering each one naturally and under three hours a piece.  I love being a mother, but I hate not having a degree or a career, or even knowing what career I'm interested in.  I haven't published a book or sold a work of my art.  I haven't invented a product that satisfies a need.  So far, I've only produced children.  Amazing children, but children, nonetheless.  I want to do something meaningful.  Something that belongs to me and me alone (or as a team of highly qualified individuals).  Someday it will happen, but I'm impatient and presently dissatisfied.

I've leave this post as it is for now since I need to be productive and complete some school assignments that the failure of which will hinder my progress.  Nobody wants that less than I.

Just Past Mid-Year Resolution

No more complaining.

I've been feeling a little funky lately and couldn't quite pinpoint the cause.  I've been feeling especially restless.  I'm still going to my classes, but I've also started working more.  That could be going better.  It's not that I'm not motivated, I'm just unable to be excited.  I'm trying, but it's not genuine.  

I went back to my old concerns that I'm mildly depressed so I looked up natural remedies online.  One article suggested exercise, time in the sun, and Omega-3 fatty acids.  I get more exercise now than I have in years, but I do keep out of the sun and I haven't been eating a lot of fish lately so today I'm sitting in the sun and I bought salmon to eat later.  I think I'm on the right track.

The other point the article mentioned was the social aspect.  I always felt that I needed more time alone, but now, I'm feeling rather lonely.  I always have, but at least before, I had many acquaintances to keep my mind off of it.  Now, I'm pretty isolationist.  It's tough to meet up with people with my kids and their schedules.  Now that I'm working more, it's even more difficult.  I know my interactions at work are helping to restore my mental acumen, which had been waning, but it's just not enough.  I love my husband and my kids, but I need a close friend--a confidante, if you will.  To be honest, I've always felt that relationship lacking most of all and now more than ever.  My best friend since sixth grade is across the country.  My cousin, who is like a sister, is several states away, and my best friend from college is in South Korea, another country!  I need a replacement.  I have a few candidates in mind, but I think I'm scared that I don't know how to build a friendship anymore.  That and two out of the three women I'm thinking of have their own children to schedule around.  I know I should be comfortable getting our kids together, but my house is a mess and my kids can be a hassle.  I'd leave them with my husband, but I feel guilty leaving him alone since we don't see each other nearly enough as it is.  

Either way, I definitely need to do something about it.  I'm determined to stop being a victim and take action.  It's time to think positively and encourage my own happiness.  I know it's not as simple as wishing it and then making it so, but when you remind yourself of the good things you have and stop worrying about what you don't, you will feel happier.  As I'm writing this, I'm actively engaging myself in being happier.  I'm actually allowing myself to feel better.  

This is going to sound disjointed when read with the previous paragraphs, but it fits in with the overall post.  A few articles I read talked about the effects of gratitude on your well-being.  When you practice gratitude, you feel better.  Remember how they told you as a child that giving gifts is better than receiving and you didn't really believe it?  By now, you've probably realized the truth in that statement.  It feels at least as good to say "thank you" as it does to hear it.  I just thanked my husband for making a delicious dinner and thanked God for not letting me fail my Stats quiz (luck also played a large role).  Point is, practicing gratitude is one way that I'm taking control of my happiness.  

The true test will come tomorrow when I get back to work.  Having a good day at school is pretty easy as an adult in college compared to having a good day at work (totally reversed from when I was in high school).  Here's to positivity!

"Looking for Lunch Buddy"/Art

I'm sitting at school, in a table for four, alone, typing with my Spanish textbook open.  Maybe I look like I'm doing work.  I am in a way.  People around me sit eating, talking, with their computers open, sharing notes, experiences, lunch.

I sat down to eat my leftovers from yesterday.  Half of a sub with ham, roast beef, shredded lettuce, tomatoes, raw shredded onions, and a deliciously spicy dijon mustard/mayo combo.  Yum.  Afterwards, I opened my book to read a section from a book named Como agua para chocolate.  We only have a page of two from the story so I went online to read a quick summary.  It's a little messed up, but a lot of stories are.  Many stories are overly dramatic and unrealistic.  If they weren't, there's a chance they'd resemble our own lives a little too much, boring and predictable.  Don't get me wrong, I have a fondness for predictable.  It's very useful with small children, but hard to break out of.  As I've noted, I'm interested in writing more often; however, I'm finding it very challenging to actually make time to do it, which I've been told (through author quotes on Twitter) means I don't want to do it badly enough.  Maybe I don't.  It's hard to say.

When I was younger, I was very interested in drawing.  I used to do sketches constantly: little cartoons (Smiley Plant was a favorite of mine--Link pending) and faces.  I learned early on that faces (and other drawings) make use of shadows to illustrate depth and create a three dimensional effect.  I never believed myself that talented.  It seemed natural and easy to me to darken parts of the face that sit further back and keep light on the parts that stick out more, such as the tip of the nose, the brow, and the chin.  When considering the work of others, I know I'm not that talented.  I possess no more ability than the common street artist.  I lack vision.  My sketches are little more than doodles with no thought and no heart.  True artists look at a blank sketchpad and see a drawing within.  They are merely exposing it and bringing it to light.  They apply emotion, texture, and content.  Artists bring their images to life.

The same can be said of painting.  I love to paint.  There is almost nothing sweeter and more satisfying than sweeping a brush of oil paint across a canvas.  Blending two colors to create a third.  You learn that shadows are not about using more hatches like pen or more lead with pencil, but choosing different colors and making the ones you do not already have.  You can show light and dark with red and green.  Painting is an expression of your soul when used liberally.  That stuff I can do.  Paintings of buildings and wild cats, sunny days changing to rain, birds scattering to the sky--that I cannot do.  Again, I lack the ability to visualize how I want to picture to turn out.  Even when I have an idea, I lack the technique to bring it to life.

Writing presents a different challenge.  I have a story to tell.  I know how to tell it.  I've been encouraged by a published writer (local friend) that I have ability.  I cannot seem to turn up the heat enough to ignite my passion.  I enjoy writing, hearing the rhythm of the words in my mind as I read them soundlessly, putting them down digitally.  Why can't I just suck it up and do it?  Why, indeed.

Hablo español

Today I stayed after class to ask my Spanish teacher if he knew my Spanish teacher from my high school since they are located five minutes apart.  He doesn't, but he thinks his colleague does.
Anyway, at some point I mentioned that I had considering minoring in Spanish.  He thought that was a great idea!  He even said there were people he knew at UVA that he thought would be helpful for me.  Hearing that was very encouraging.

I had given up on the idea since I hadn't taken Spanish in nearly ten years, but it is a requirement for my transfer degree so I took the placement test and decided to start at square one so I could move on more easily.  I excelled in my previous Spanish classes, but then I had a few semesters off after birthing my youngest. I felt very intimidated and worried that I wouldn't understand what the teacher was saying (my last Spanish teacher was a female and I thought an easy grader).  After getting in to class, I discovered I was not behind at all.  In fact, I've found myself getting ahead.  What a relief!  It was even nicer to hear my teacher felt the same way.  He said that I'm a natural and have a real aptitude for the language.

So far, I'm feeling the love in all my classes.  Since I entered with low expectations of myself, I've quickly surpassed them in both math and Spanish, the two I worried most about.  I'm starting to think that maybe I am as smart as I used to think.  Either that or I'm not as dumb as I've worried I am.  I'll take it.  Point being, I guess I'm looking into a minor in Spanish with whatever major I choose.