Monday, September 15, 2008

Watering my Blog

I have a bad habit. Let me tell you about it (Gee, aren't you lucky?). When I was a sophomore in college, I acquired a little four-pot windowsill herb set. I carefully reconstituted the provided soil (really. I just had to add water, and it expanded to fill the pot), planted the seeds, and then little seedlings grew forth. I loved herbs, and I eagerly looked forward to harvesting fresh herbs for my cooking.

Then, I went away for a few days. Of course, the plants went unwatered, and when I returned they looked a little sad and wilted. So what did I do? Water them, and brink them back to health like a normal, well-adjusted person would?


I ignored them. I carefully did not look at the spot on the windowsill where they sat. I avoided going by that part of the room. I became (subconsciously, since I intentionally even avoided those sad, underserving herbs even in my thoughts) grateful for the curtain which mainly obscured them from my view.

And so my poor, little herbs lost their only recently began life, because I have a guilt complex that results in avoidance until a small problem - plants needing water - grows into an irreparable loss of dead little sticks that I only clear out months and months later once my guilt too has shriveled and died with time.

One of the things I struggle with most in life and personal development is facing head-on problems or snags in life, and instead avoid the problem, hoping it will go away. It either grows in difficulty until I can't ignore it, and the consequence loom catastrophicaly over my head, or it eventually solves itself (in this case by the plants dyeing).

I didn't want to kill the plants; quite the opposite. I wanted them to flourish, and grow, and produce lovely herbs. But since I failed a little in my duty, I couldn't face the shame, and so failed a lot (makes sense? Yeah, I didn't think so. Who says life-long guilt complexes need to make sense?).

I've done this very act countless times in my life. I like this story because it's truly the least damming of all the times I've done this (I would tell you some more horrible ones, but I won't Umm, on second thought, I will, because I'm writing this as an endnote, and I did in fact write more about this).

As I've grown older (I'm almost 26 you know; in only three weeks) I've worked a lot on overcoming this major fault. Now, if I don't email someone for church for a calling when I need to, I don't avoid them, my email inbox, and my calling until something breaks down massively (I did things like this as a teenager.) I don't do things like take on the position as president for the summer and vice president in the fall of a Golden Key society at BYU (Or was it the Blue Key? I don't remember), but then realize that I'm way in over my head because I'm also president of the Quill and the Sword, a medieval club, and I don't have enough time for both, and as well I don't really like the society that much because I don't think it actually has that much purpose besides as a resume builder, and so I just avoid all the people in it, and don't go to meetings, and move, and change majors (well, I was doing this anyway; I was a double major, and dropped one because I didn't like my Latin teacher, and it was Comparative Literature, and the head Comp Lit professor was also over the society), and I still don't know what a schlub they probably thought I was, but I can assume.

Whew, I feel better with that off my chest. I don't think even Avram knows that I did that, although I'm sure he will now. Isn't it funny how you can write personal things about yourself much easier than speaking about them? Plus that was six years ago, so I'm obviously over it. Unless Dr. Peer reads this somehow, randomly, and then I will die of shame.

Now, though, I am much better, as I was saying. I actually fulfill my callings, and I'm good about telling people I can't do something if I can't, or don't want to, or know I actually won't. Except sometimes old habits die hard, and so I find myself avoiding writing a blog post for a long time because I have about 20 million pictures and stories to share all at once (yes, my life is that exciting, or at least I obviously think it is). Instead of doing the obvious thing and just plowing in with one topic at a time, and move forward, I just don't write anything at all. I spent lots of mental time planning great posts, and ways to tell stories, and musings about life. I even compose sentances in my head. Then I get some computer time, and I spend it putting off even visiting my own blog, because then I might log it. And go to the post page. And actually, you know, write something.

It's a scary world sometimes.

But now more and more posts have just built up in my mental post regulator (otherwise known as my mind), and instead of never checking my blog again, and letting its little tender plantself die, I've decided to come and water my blog.

For the record, up to now was supposed to be about two sentances long, leading into a post starting to detail my life.

Umm, sometimes I like to talk a lot. That's why I like blogs; I talk and talk, and I don't interrupt anyone (another lifelong habit I'm still working on), and if my story stretches out too long, people can just stop reading, and no-one's feelings are hurt.

So I guess I'm telling you that good things are coming, because I'm going to keep watering this blog, by golly, although I never actually got to watering today. I've meta-watered.

Just to keep you interested....
I like to call this little number, "Yo." Or alternatively, "Whazz-Up?"

I resized 20 more just like it (that's a real number, I went and counted), with "just like it" meaning of the last week and a half of our life, so there are lots more pictures and stories to come.

Unless I move, and change my name, and avoid anyone who might read my blog in real life or on the Internet, and put curtains over my lap top so I don't have to see my shame.


  1. Ah, thanks, I was SO thirsty. ;)

  2. I have a similar issue. Actually, I think you could say the exact same issue. Especially with making calls that I need to (although you said you've improved on this one). Sometimes with writing emails. I'm not afraid of people. And it's not like I don't have anything to say (heaven knows) but I just avoid it for some inexplicable reason. And then wonder why anyone still wants to be my friend!

  3. Dr. Peer is a scary man. One time he was handing tests back and I guess he forgot who I was, because he didn't give me mine and then proceeded to criticize how short my essay was in front of the whole class. He is so ridiculously smart but I guess just had a bit of a lapse right then. I snagged my test off of the front table as I walked out, like a cowering dog. I wanted to cry. I was just a freshman, too! Really, what kind of teacher would criticize his student's work in front of the whole class?

    I, too, changed my major from CompLit because I didn't like my Latin teacher! AND we have the same birthday! AND we're both left-handed!!!! Wheeeeee!!!!

  4. well i interupt people too.. i think its a stoutner thing? ah well.. i have been activly working on my social skills for about 20 years and still have trouble.

    I am here reading your blog.. whilst i procrastinate going to mine and finish posting all the pics from my seattle trip. yep my blog is dying.. your blog is flouishing.

    Oh and if i ignore the pile of mail that is mainly hospital and dr bills on the counter will it eventually resolve itself and go away? because i really seem to have a hard time getting to it.

    you would think we were related or something

  5. I wish I did not water my blog as often as you. Then I would have a lot more said and probably a lot more people interested in reading it. It was like reading my own mind to read the way you plan a bazillion posts in your head, even composing sentences and arranging pictures, but never start because you couldn't finish. But obviously you do start at some point because you have about 17 posts for my every one in the same time period. Anyway, I also love the way you write. I want to be you someday, at least to have people love the way I write they way I love yours. The End.