And Now, for Some Humanity

Posted on October 28, 2011


After the last post, the post about the woman that can do everything, I quickly realized that you are all correct and it is not necessary to do everything. While I may have pretended to be wise, a sage of wordpress and knower of my own limitations, surely my humanity and my super addicty ways would ensure that just because I know the talk does not mean I am walking the walk.

I have finally changed my work schedule so that I am only available on weekends. While I will ultimately be making less money and therefore able to spend less money (or if you are conservative as I am attempting to be, “save less money”), it’s time to focus on what is important, which is school. I got my second B, in my biology of psychology class, perhaps the most challenging college course I’ve yet to take, and it is the second B I’ve received since returning to school last fall. The first B, I was heartbroken. The second, a little less. Both happened in the same class.

Actually, I cannot omit any truths here, it was a C (!) before the curve. I only received a B because of the situation. It was a high C (39/50), which doesn’t necessarily make me feel any better. And my grade in the class overall is an 88%, which I can easily raise now that I have good, solid study and sleep hours. But the shock, the imperfection, the horror, the horror.

The horror gave way to reality. I will be challenged, I will get less than perfect scores, I will not be the very best at everything I do. I was reading an article yesterday, about how valedictorians in high school experience this huge let down once they get to that ivy league college and are placed with a bunch of other valedictorians. Suddenly, he/she is not the smartest/bestest/most awesomest kid in school. Suddenly, he/she is completely normal. I read another article about how parents are succeeding at fucking up their kids, unintentionally of course, by always reinforcing the “You did your best,” line of thinking, or the “you are so special,” idea. Sometimes, we did not do our best. In fact, sometimes we do a shit job. And more often than not, that idea of special only manages to separate us from the rest of our peers, our social companions. Parents are creating little tiny narcissist, because now the children are convinced that they always, in fact, do their best. And that they are special. Just because we are special to someone, or to a group of people, does not necessarily mean that that specialness makes us better or different than those around us.

I think some of the trouble comes from separating normalcy and mediocrity. One of my biggest fears in life has been to become a mediocre human being. So I go hard. I go so hard that most times I burn out. I am so afraid of being quasi-awesome that I sacrifice whatever awesomeness that is inherently mine for the sake of creating and existing in even more awesomeness. This is simply not healthy. It is also impossible.

It’d be like if everyone was Steve Jobs. Then nobody would be Steve Jobs.

What I’m saying is that it’s taken that “C turned to B,” for me to realize that sometimes, when I tell myself, “I’m doing my best,” it is only fluff to distract me from the fact that I am not really doing my best. That if – like a scientist – I tweak a few variables, I will do much better. That situationally, I may be doing the best I can, but that does not mean that it is the best I have to give.

It’s surprising how long some lessons take to learn. It is inspiring, the complexity with which the mind functions. While I will not beat myself up about being imperfect, I will do what is possible to make the situational variables such that I have no place left to look other than my own brain when it comes to learning, or in this case, failing to do so. I will not point to other students and think, “they are smart,” and look at myself and say, “I had too much on my plate, and that caused my mediocre grade.” No. I will say, “I did not study enough, and therefore, did not do as well.”

There is absolutely no limit to the amount a human can learn. It only stops when we decide that we’ve reached our capacity. And even then, were we to change our minds, we would instantly be open to new learning.

I wish to remain open, because there is really always room for improvement. My life is changing for the better. Every. Single. Day.

Posted in: Good Days