thoughts on pride

"Proud people breed sorrow for themselves."

- emily bronte -

wuthering heights

I have generally thought myself to be a rather grounded person. Having once been a pretty dreamy girl, allowing my thoughts and actions to be dictated by whim and romance and laughter, I feel like I've arrived at a satisfactorily balanced approach, combining spontaneous positivity with an unshakable grip on reality. I think that's why I've been so self-reflective over the last few months-- trying not to let the "harsh realities" of my world blind me from the simple (and grand!) pleasures of life, always conscious of arguing dualities.

I've been unemployed-- but I don't have a job I hate.

My cats are wonderful and hilarious-- but that won't pay the bills.

Money is tight-- but I have so many clothes I never wear, things I never use, and extra pounds around my waist from abundance.

There is never one way to look at life. My feeling has been that it must always be observed through both eyes, that focus together to form clarity, unity, and harmony within myself. The worst and best of all things must be balanced, and anyone who ignores that balance is enormously proud of themselves.

My earlier years, with so much emphasis placed on shopping, texting, staying out late, flirting and skirting by in school, are a source of embarrassment to me. I look at myself and see a prideful girl-- one who knew it all (or consciously pretended to know it all) and thought I was better off for it. I pretended that I couldn't see then the consequences of my actions. Of course it was pretense because I could vocally acknowledge the results of my behavior at the time, but took my sweet time in changing my tune because I knew better. I was young, I was in college, I deserved that play time.

Prideful.

And my pride dictated the unhappiness that resulted from the constantly overdrawn bank account, the addition to my phone and computer, the lack of attention to my health and safety, the brash and loud personality, the sub-par report cards.

I'm grateful for the people who tried to tell me so at the time.

But then I became a you-so teller.

It's interesting to flip-flop in your life to such extremes because then you're mantled with this overwhelming sense of experience. You learn to care more. You learn to care too much. I looked around and saw all these other whimsical life players with their hopes and dreams and laughter and general disregard for Real Life or even just a steady job-- moreover, I saw for the first time their sorrows.

I could see how flirting shamelessly can make you seem desperate and sad, not darling and attractive. I could see how constant shopping at specific stores doesn't make you more awesome, especially without any regard for where the money is coming to pay for it all. I could see how being liberal, loud, out-spoken doesn't make a person carefree, but bound to the constraints of their liberality. I could see how our own prideful choices, made with a laugh in the face of humble reason, makes us sad and filled with regret.

Then, seeing how I was braizenly swinging on this pendulum between acknowledged lack of experience (I'm so young! I'm still learning too! I can be a grown up and still have fun!) and simultaneous grown-up-edness, I tried to wipe my hands of it all. Fine-- make your choices, no matter how destructive. You know your own life better than I do. It's not up to me to make you happy. I can't tell you how to be happy if you're convinced, and are so vocal about the fact that, you have to live it in order to learn it.

I seek to be teachable. I seek to learn from mistakes. I seek to be open to experience. I seek to be an example of hard work and integrity. I seek to be free from the bonds of pride.

Anyone who professes to seek improvement but refuses to step out of the vicious cycle of poor choices due to extreme, absurd self-assuredness-- is a fool.




Isn't that the most terrible thing? It sounds like the most terrible thing, when I put it that way. I paused before I wrote it, and then deleted and rewrote it, and then deleted and rewrote it all again, trying to think of another, kinder way to express my feelings. But I can't.

In my deepest, most immediate heart, I believe it.

Foolish people acknowledge what's wrong in their lives and continue to waste day after day after day in doing nothing but talking about it. Foolish people LOVE to talk about it.

And yet, there's this terrible double-side to pridefulness in being proud of our lack of pride.

All the attempts at humility and learning and openness and integrity is sullied with a hard edge that makes me just as sad as the silliness and overspending and irresponsibility.

I am proud of how un-prideful I am.

And you know, doesn't that breed just as many problems? Aren't I just as much caught up in the whirlwind of foolishness by caring how foolish others are? Doesn't that equally make me a fool?








So I'm trying this new thing: I'm trying very hard to forget my pride (and all the feelings and emotions and ego wrapped up in it) by losing sight of others' pride. I'm detangling myself from the cycle of proud sorrow since misery does love company and letting go.

It means I'm letting go of people, too-- and that's a sorrow in its own right.

I seek to be teachable. I seek to learn from my own mistakes. I seek to be open to my own experience. I seek to be an example of hard work and integrity for myself. I seek to be free from the bonds of my pride.

I guess that's all I can do.

summer wrap up

I haven't really posted this summer. What a shame. I won't waste time justifying (to myself, mostly) why I haven't or pretending like my life isn't interesting (because it is, and I don't think it's bad to say so). I'm sad about it. I miss writing. I don't know why I don't write more.

Cue rehashed commitment to writing and blogging.

Here are some bullet-points about Summer 2012:

• I am working at Seven Peaks again, sort of. Corporate company, payroll assistant. Same song, different verse.
• Ames and I have been in Crazy for You all summer at Hale Center Theater Orem. It has been wonderful and exhausting. We close on Saturday. Come see us if you can, please!
• Ames and I have been cast in Oliver at Hale Centre Theatre for the fall. I have been cast as a lead in a musical. For anyone who knows me, and even those who don't, I am unaccustomed to being taken rather seriously in musical theater, especially in a serious musical. I'm terribly excited and scared.
• WE ARE GOING TO MAINE ON SUNDAY! Please take a moment to enjoy the view:

• I dyed my hair last night. It is currently "cheetah chic" owing to the sploches of brown that didn't bleach out evenly. We'll Take 2 tonight to fix it and also attempt to white out some of the brass. We're going for something more like (also tempted to cut it off and style like this on a daily basis):

Anyone read any good books lately?

 

how do i do this?

Guys.

What has happened to the blogger layout since I last posted?

Apparently I don't blog frequently enough.

I mean, this is really freaking me out. It kind of reminds me of the old old blogger days, back in 7th grade when Aaron F invited me and a handful of friends to "blogger" and I had no idea what it was.

That's how I'm feeling right now with this layout. It's all scary and sleek. How do I do this?

I find myself asking that question kind of a lot lately. How do I do this? The skill set required at my job is coming back pretty quickly, though I'm feeling inefficient and somewhat ineffective. I want to fix things. I want it all to run easily and well. How?

I'm in rehearsals at night. I'm not a stranger to rehearsals, but I haven't legitimately tap danced in a while, for example. How do I move my feet to make those sounds? How do I move my body twelve different ways and directions all at once? How do I get past my silliness and insecurities? It feels like it should all be second nature, and yet it doesn't seem second nature somehow.

I used to blog a lot. I used to write essays a lot, and then I would post them on my blog. In a large sense, I'm not even sure I feel like I know how to write essays anymore-- or even dopey little blog posts. Have you seen this blog lately? What a dreadful pity. How do I begin? How do I know what to write about? I used to write all the time about school and life and making soup. How do I do this??

It seems very trite but the things I feel like I confidently know how to do are basically limited to watching TV (movies annoy me lately-- how do I watch a movie without feeling annoyed by it? I'm watching Chocolat right now this moment ((well, really it's playing in the background, I'm not really watching)) and even though I'd call it a Top 5-er and I'm obsessed with Juliette Binoche and I need those red shoes amirite ladies? Ugh. Movies. Annoying.), online window-shopping, and being obsessed with my cats.

Let me stop you right there and clarify:  I didn't say that I know how to be obsessed with cats generally. I specifically know how to be obsessed with my own cats three (well, 2.5 really, since Jenna is very small and is only half the size of a normal cat).

But they really are the most hilarious and charming creatures. And they make me so happy. So is it really wrong? Is it wrong to love them so much? I ask you. Especially because I never have to ask myself how to love them. I just do. They don't get bogged down with anxiety or pressure to be the best or favorite cat because they're all the best one and they're all the favorite. They don't ever have to look at that hair elastic on the floor (Trevor's favorite toy) or consider their bowl of food and ask themselves, How do I do this?

I feel like it would be great to never have to ask myself, How do I do this?

I'm not saying I'm jealous of a few neurotic cats, you guys. I'm just saying it must be nice not to get inside your own head so much.

I guess I just need to start practicing again, give myself credit where it's due, and stop comparing myself to everyone else (which is a separate topic altogether).

And there is nothing wrong with the things I confidently know how to do. Mostly.

ch-ch-ch-changes

1. I have a job. Praise the heavenly HR gods, and also (most especially) God.

2. Ames and I are starting rehearsals on Monday for a new project-- Crazy for You at Hale Center Theater Orem (where we met but have never performed together awwwwwww cute!). Come see us anytime June 14-August 4 since we're single cast. We tap dance a lot, Ames will be a cowboy, and I will act as a Dance Captain (not to be confused with being an actual dance captain, since that would be silly).

3. Baby sister Elizabeth graduated from BYU this week YAY!!!!!! (which has, incidentally, thrown off my internal clock almost irreversibly. What day is it? What time is it? Is tomorrow Sunday or Monday?) and it's got me all excitable to go back to school. I want to be a Master. It's a bucket list thing. What should I study, y'all??

4. I have worn lipstick every single day since February 26. Do you understand how great this is for my self-esteem? I'll tell you: it is great.

5. My hair is no longer red. I've jumped on the ombre trend and the ends are almost blonde. Can you believe it? Not only blonde, but I also-- wait for it-- changed the part. Like, on my scalp. Gasp. This is a big step for me.

6. I'm resolved to throw out (by which I mean donate, of course) most of my wardrobe until I'm left with only items which I will love to wear no matter what. It is empowering.

7. You know how I have that thyroid thing? Well Madame Butterfly has started acting out again, which is mildly frustrating, but only because my symptoms and diagnosis has kind of slipped in the other direction. The truth is, I'm feeling kind of... I don't know, it's hard to explain. I guess I feel kind of aware. Is that weird? I just feel specifically aware of myself and my body and my blessings and my place in life. Working toward a balance in and taking control of my health has kind of become a very real metaphor for taking control of the balance in my life. First of all, it makes me grateful, because things really are pretty great right now. I feel generally happy. I feel generally hopeful. I know my life isn't 100% right now (coming off unemployment, self-esteem, etc) but just like I take a little tinsy pill every day to help Madame work correctly, I know there are active things I must do each day to improve and balance and heal. It is good. It makes me feel in control.

8. My kitties are the most hilarious and great. I didn't know I could love cats. But I do!!!


What's changing in your life lately?

oh hello there.

Me again.

Not dead, not terribly busy, still not employed.

Not all is uneventful, however. One day we walked into Petsmart to pick up some food for Trevor and Lucille 2, and oops! a tiny full-grown cat named Jenna came home with us.

I get it. We're Cat People. I am so happy about rescuing these purrfect (wocka wocka) little pets and giving them a good life. I mean, that said-- we're DONE rescuing. We are not Hoarder Cat People or Stinky House Cat People or 1000 Cats In The House Cat People. That would be a lot of vacuuming. Zoinks.

Between rescuing Jenna the Tiny Cat and validating the existence of the other two, watching my stories, and finishing my gallery walls (which are awesommmmmmme seriously come over some time and see my handiwork and hang out for a while I'm not joking), I've also begun the process of trying to secure talent representation for myself.

The only reason I bring this up on the blog is because hopefully by posting, someone out there in Internet Land will read and perhaps assist in some advice/recommendation/referrals to agents, specifically in the Salt Lake area, although I'm more than happy to Go Bigger if the opportunity presented itself. I've talked to so many people and done a lot of research about agencies in SLC so it's not like I don't know what's out there. I just need some assistance in the next step-- a referral or an appointment or anything.

My headshot and resume are linked in the sidebar, which some may find helpful, and I truly do appreciate anything that might help me get this goal off the ground. I'll be sure to thank you in my Emmy acceptance speech one day.

Love you, blogland. I'll visit more regularly-- promise.

thoughts in the morning

It is not 8am yet.

To some (most) this fact would not be (is not) startling because most (almost all) normal grown-ups wake up at a reasonable, responsible hour to do things like go to work or school.

This before-8am post marks the second time this week that my eyes have witnessed the sun rise and also the second time my eyes have witnessed the sun rise probably since October 2011.

(Isn't noting the year specifically so dramatique of me?)

The truth is, I spent most (all) of this past night tossing and turning and trying to count backwards from 10,000 in an effort to fall asleep. I tend to sleep poorly at hotels because the truth is I really love staying at hotels. It's exciting, even if it's just Ogden, UT. (I need you to know that my phone auto-corrects "Ogden" as "Offensive." Before-8am is funny.) I also sleep poorly without Ames, and especially poorly without a routine. What I'm saying is, all of these facts added up to a sleepless night, evidenced by crumbles and swipes of yesterday's mascara all over this pillow and my forearm from where I tossed it over my face dramatically.

I have felt extraordinarily In Touch with my feelings and goals lately, and yet have seemed to neglect so much of what I love, like essays and writing and music. I've been focused a lot on TV which is great because I have learned a lot about acting, which is really what I love most, but I really do love all beautiful and creative things. I wish I could sew. Like, Project Runway sew. Crocheting is lovely and diverting but since everyone in the world is all about Pinterest and crafting these days it doesn't feel like something I can just throw myself into (except for doilies which are so so pretty and I am good at them, though one doesn't become particularly recognized for extreme feats in doilies).

I went to the mall yesterday (which still feels like today because I didn't sleep, remember?) and indulged in two pretty shirts. I've been so conscious of my lack of income or need to basically ever get dressed for any specific reason that my wardrobe has become increasingly disappointing. But these shirts are pretty and flattering and are of visual interest, which makes me feel like I'm of visual interest, which makes me feel like I can/should wear lipstick-- and we all know how I feel about wearing lipstick.

I'm up in Ogden for the Region 8 Kennedy Center American College Theater Festival-- not participating, of course, but Ames is and a bunch of our friends and I hate to pass up an opportunity to see some interesting acting. I should pay more attention to the seminars but I'm here specifically to see Round 2 of the Irene Ryan acting competition. He's staying with the students, I'm crashing with friend Mel. She is sleeping peacefully while I witness the day-dawn breaking.

Ogden is very interesting. Driving to this hotel was the first time I drove through downtown-- which looks exactly like downtown Provo, which looks exactly like Downtown of most every town in Utah except Salt Lake City. I passed a quintessential cafe, and the tattoo shop, and the crafty gift store that's kind of a landmark but you don't really know anyone who's ever shopped there. Downtown Ogden even has an Indian-place-on-the-corner, which I bet is delicious. There's something comforting in the fact that "downtown" is dependable and predictable. Maybe there's also something frustrating in it too. Frustrating and trapping and metaphorical.

I've been reading too many self-reflective blogs this night, as I landed on Twitter accounts of friends-of-friends-of-friends and whatever.

I guess I'll get up now and wipe away last night's mascara (or what's left of it) and go try to learn a thing or two about acting. I'm going to wear one of my new shirts with my favorite boots.

Maybe I should wake up before 8AM more often.