insomnia and ennui
it's 4:30 in the morning, and i can't sleep.
this is a pretty common occurrence these days. my schedule has been very flexible this summer, and i've abused that to the best of my ability, or at least to the worst of my nocturnal tendencies. eventually, i will be forced to return to a schedule that means being up at 4 is a very bad thing, but i'm not looking forward to it just yet.
i never really intended to stop writing in this space, but it happened a little at a time and grew too intimidating to come back to. this pattern governs many things in my life, as i think about it - but i never expected to have nothing to say. that may not really be the problem, but i guess i ran out of things to say here. is introspection more or less valid when performed in a public forum?
i began writing here several years ago, now, when my friend chris told me that i should really consider writing down the events of my life, as they were generally amusing. in reading past entries, i am struck by a sense of forced jocularity and many cases of trying too hard, but eventually an evolution took place, and this journal became a regular venue for navel contemplation. i feel fortunate to have had this outlet, and thankful to all of you for reading and commenting here - there have been times when i have needed it, and there will certainly be times in the future when i feel the same way.
however, in the past two years, i have written here less and less, to the point where some of you who i don't speak with regularly have wondered if i'm done with it. i'm not sure yet, really. time passes more quickly these days than it used to, and my life has changed dramatically from what it once was, thank all that is holy. in many ways, i feel happier and more satisfied than i ever have, but i have never been comfortable with happiness, or certain of its veracity. more than anything, these days, i feel old - as if maturity had descended upon me without warning and smothered the part of me that burned brightest with the flame of crazy. i am still infinitely capable of making bad decisions, but am also notably more subdued than i was a few years ago. spending the majority of my time with 13 and 14-year olds gives me a strange perspective on my own life; i feel old and clueless some of the time and young and stupid some of the time, and i am constantly aware of the fact that i have never really been cool.
a few months ago, shortly after turning 27, i had to give a chapel talk to my students and the faculty, with the assigned theme of honor. this is an annual thing, and i even got to select the date of my turn in the barrel, but most of my colleagues think of it as the most stressful thing they do all year. so far, i haven't felt that way about it, but that may just be because i haven't run out of stories yet. in my talk, i discussed the shameful experience of my senior debate in high school - a project that we spent all year preparing for, only to produce a comedy of errors that was still being exhibited (according to my younger sister, who had to watch it), five years after the fact, as an example of what not to do. i personally have never seen the videotaped version of the debate, but i clearly remember the highlights of my fifteen-minute performance, which must appear to be on mute - i lost my voice completely to a sinus infection the week of the debate, and could do nothing to make myself heard. the whole endeavor was truly embarrassing, but i found myself very proud of the fact that it was still being shown as an instructional video - who else from my class could say such a thing? the good debates, as impressive as they were, were probably forgotten even by the participants, while my fifteen minutes of hell lived a life of infamy among generations of future debaters. if there isn't honor in that, i don't know where you might find it.
i was reminded of the whole incident by the advent of my ten-year high school reunion, which is coming up in a little over a month. it's a little hard to believe that i've been out of high school for that long, but enough has happened since then that it seems plausible. initially, i was unenthusiastic about the whole thing; of the 55 people in my graduating class, i have maintained contact with zero. i was justifiably something of a class pariah, and i've never felt the inclination or need to bring other people into my miserable mental re-enactments of that era. as has become true with the other major phases of my life - japan, college, grad school - i have a hard time thinking about the things that happened without being overwhelmed by regret and disgust with myself and my actions. why even go to a reunion, under such circumstances?
i think the reason i've stopped writing is related to that choice, even if i'm not entirely sure of the relationship. i think i'm willing to go back not because i want to hook up with an old crush or see who's fat and who's bald or any of the other standard comic routines surrounding reunions, but because i've finally gotten somewhere. i'm not rich or married or prestigious or any of the things that i may have wanted to be at that time of my life, but i'm reasonably happy with who and where i am. in a class full of legitimate candidates for 'most likely to cure cancer' and 'most likely to succeed', i got 'most likely to go to jail', and i'm sure that the vote wasn't even close. having miraculously avoided that fate (so far), i can legitimately say that i've outperformed at least some of the expectations for me. while this sounds dangerously like the wonderful chris rock routine (guys say 'oh, well, i'm not in jail, i take care of my kids' - you're not supposed to be in jail! you're supposed to take care of your kids! people, these are not accomplishments!), i have a feeling that i'm going to feel a lot better about being a teacher than the twenty kids in my class that are lawyers. at least, i hope that's how it's going to work. it'll be enough to be able to say that i'm happy and to demonstrate that i'm a different kind of asshole than the one they remember.
and now, for more shameless self-centeredness:
if you're reading this and you know me, i'd really like to know what you think of me. anything from a first impression to a current one; brutal honesty is preferred. i feel awkward and uncomfortable making this request because it seems like such a blatant appeal for flattery, but what i'm looking for is more along the lines of data. most of you who read this have known me for years, and you all know me in a different way than i know myself (no biblical sex jokes, please). any insight you have would be appreciated - my brain is still trying to figure out how it got into a body this large, and it's way behind on the other facets of development.
all comments are screened, and anonymity is welcomed.
this is a pretty common occurrence these days. my schedule has been very flexible this summer, and i've abused that to the best of my ability, or at least to the worst of my nocturnal tendencies. eventually, i will be forced to return to a schedule that means being up at 4 is a very bad thing, but i'm not looking forward to it just yet.
i never really intended to stop writing in this space, but it happened a little at a time and grew too intimidating to come back to. this pattern governs many things in my life, as i think about it - but i never expected to have nothing to say. that may not really be the problem, but i guess i ran out of things to say here. is introspection more or less valid when performed in a public forum?
i began writing here several years ago, now, when my friend chris told me that i should really consider writing down the events of my life, as they were generally amusing. in reading past entries, i am struck by a sense of forced jocularity and many cases of trying too hard, but eventually an evolution took place, and this journal became a regular venue for navel contemplation. i feel fortunate to have had this outlet, and thankful to all of you for reading and commenting here - there have been times when i have needed it, and there will certainly be times in the future when i feel the same way.
however, in the past two years, i have written here less and less, to the point where some of you who i don't speak with regularly have wondered if i'm done with it. i'm not sure yet, really. time passes more quickly these days than it used to, and my life has changed dramatically from what it once was, thank all that is holy. in many ways, i feel happier and more satisfied than i ever have, but i have never been comfortable with happiness, or certain of its veracity. more than anything, these days, i feel old - as if maturity had descended upon me without warning and smothered the part of me that burned brightest with the flame of crazy. i am still infinitely capable of making bad decisions, but am also notably more subdued than i was a few years ago. spending the majority of my time with 13 and 14-year olds gives me a strange perspective on my own life; i feel old and clueless some of the time and young and stupid some of the time, and i am constantly aware of the fact that i have never really been cool.
a few months ago, shortly after turning 27, i had to give a chapel talk to my students and the faculty, with the assigned theme of honor. this is an annual thing, and i even got to select the date of my turn in the barrel, but most of my colleagues think of it as the most stressful thing they do all year. so far, i haven't felt that way about it, but that may just be because i haven't run out of stories yet. in my talk, i discussed the shameful experience of my senior debate in high school - a project that we spent all year preparing for, only to produce a comedy of errors that was still being exhibited (according to my younger sister, who had to watch it), five years after the fact, as an example of what not to do. i personally have never seen the videotaped version of the debate, but i clearly remember the highlights of my fifteen-minute performance, which must appear to be on mute - i lost my voice completely to a sinus infection the week of the debate, and could do nothing to make myself heard. the whole endeavor was truly embarrassing, but i found myself very proud of the fact that it was still being shown as an instructional video - who else from my class could say such a thing? the good debates, as impressive as they were, were probably forgotten even by the participants, while my fifteen minutes of hell lived a life of infamy among generations of future debaters. if there isn't honor in that, i don't know where you might find it.
i was reminded of the whole incident by the advent of my ten-year high school reunion, which is coming up in a little over a month. it's a little hard to believe that i've been out of high school for that long, but enough has happened since then that it seems plausible. initially, i was unenthusiastic about the whole thing; of the 55 people in my graduating class, i have maintained contact with zero. i was justifiably something of a class pariah, and i've never felt the inclination or need to bring other people into my miserable mental re-enactments of that era. as has become true with the other major phases of my life - japan, college, grad school - i have a hard time thinking about the things that happened without being overwhelmed by regret and disgust with myself and my actions. why even go to a reunion, under such circumstances?
i think the reason i've stopped writing is related to that choice, even if i'm not entirely sure of the relationship. i think i'm willing to go back not because i want to hook up with an old crush or see who's fat and who's bald or any of the other standard comic routines surrounding reunions, but because i've finally gotten somewhere. i'm not rich or married or prestigious or any of the things that i may have wanted to be at that time of my life, but i'm reasonably happy with who and where i am. in a class full of legitimate candidates for 'most likely to cure cancer' and 'most likely to succeed', i got 'most likely to go to jail', and i'm sure that the vote wasn't even close. having miraculously avoided that fate (so far), i can legitimately say that i've outperformed at least some of the expectations for me. while this sounds dangerously like the wonderful chris rock routine (guys say 'oh, well, i'm not in jail, i take care of my kids' - you're not supposed to be in jail! you're supposed to take care of your kids! people, these are not accomplishments!), i have a feeling that i'm going to feel a lot better about being a teacher than the twenty kids in my class that are lawyers. at least, i hope that's how it's going to work. it'll be enough to be able to say that i'm happy and to demonstrate that i'm a different kind of asshole than the one they remember.
and now, for more shameless self-centeredness:
if you're reading this and you know me, i'd really like to know what you think of me. anything from a first impression to a current one; brutal honesty is preferred. i feel awkward and uncomfortable making this request because it seems like such a blatant appeal for flattery, but what i'm looking for is more along the lines of data. most of you who read this have known me for years, and you all know me in a different way than i know myself (no biblical sex jokes, please). any insight you have would be appreciated - my brain is still trying to figure out how it got into a body this large, and it's way behind on the other facets of development.
all comments are screened, and anonymity is welcomed.