Adrift

I wrote last night’s post in the middle of working last minute on a project (magazine layout) due this morning. So I proceed to go to class and participate in the critique, with those words still on my mind, the question of what I’ve made of myself and what I’ve done with the time I’ve had, the opportunities I’ve met along the way, with the talents and resources I’ve been given. Of course they’re rhetorical questions.

This is from that Oct. 15 self portrait series. Right before I took down my lighting stuff I decided to try doing multiple exposures. Set the exposure time to 30 seconds, ISO 100, f/11 — turned out the lights, got in front of the camera, triggered the shutter, and then proceeded to trigger the flash several times, moving around to try to get different images of me into the same frame. One exposure, no photoshopping except to make it black and white. Not a masterpiece by any means– I only tried this once, and this was the result. But I do find it interesting if only to myself for the introspection it lends itself to. I don’t recall making any faces or trying to pose any specific way other than to change from flash to the next. Usually you only see yourself in the mirror, and this photo, to me, is almost like a glimpse of what others might see of me from time to time. I’m like… dang. Do I look so distraught all the time? Awesome, haha. Long introspective post ahead. 😉

You see, in a conversation recently about how judgmental some people can be, I realized that the person I’m most judgmental of is myself. And why not? I’m the only one, save God, who knows me well enough to do so. And so the questions about what I’ve done with my life are rhetorical because I always knew the answer, I just avoid thinking about it most the time.

There I am in class. Looking at how imaginative many of the solutions other students created were, and how much more they put into it than I surely did. Sure, it was on my mind plenty. But being conscious of something and actually putting mental effort into finding solutions / being creative is another matter. So it just drives home those questions of what kind of steward I’ve been over my life.

For those few that might actually read this, know that this is not intended to be an exercise in self-deprecation, and it’s not intended to solicit positive reinforcement that I’m not as mediocre as I see myself as. See, mediocrity is a choice, it’s not some inescapable condition I dwell in. “Why” is an interesting question, but why doesn’t necessarily matter. The bottom line is that what I’ve done is in the past. What I am today is a product of who I’ve been in the past. Who I am tomorrow is still a chapter yet to be written. I write this merely for the sake of selfish introspection.

The only use in revisiting my failures (lack of effort) is in examining their results and resolving not to continue on that path. Would you believe that this idea has haunted me since high school? I didn’t even have a clue who I was in high school, I wasn’t thinking about it, I was shut off in most ways. But there was one message that penetrated whatever walls I had up, whatever shell I had to keep me from feeling (a shell I wasn’t consciously creating as I might now).

It was the message that my potential was much greater than I was living up to– that I was more than I had become. It’s kinda sad that more than 10 years later that message still pierces me. Maybe I like being haunted by it.

Not that I haven’t grown or learned things along the way. I don’t think I’m horrible, but I do find mediocrity in the face of much greater potential to be pretty disgusting.

Here’s where this post turns from being a bit of a downer 😉 There interesting thing about all the mediocrity up there is that the few times when I’ve not performed so poorly have been when there was something outside of myself driving me. Something greater than myself. God. Purpose. Love. Love is all kinds of greater than me. And it’s these causes, these things that are more important than me that I might have an opportunity to serve that have the potential to really bring out the best in me. Perhaps I’m just generally too short sighted to realize what use it might be to strive for the best. Maybe too busy looking at the ground I’m walking on rather than deciding which direction to go.

I committed recently to a project that by nature is much bigger than me. A project that, even if it didn’t touch one single other life, could have a huge impact on me. I honestly don’t know where it might take me, all I know is that if I’m true to it, I’ll be a much better person. It simultaneously excites me and makes me a bit… nervous? Maybe because I know my own track record of mediocrity and can’t stand the thought of failing in that way with this project.

So here I am– me against myself. All it’ll take to succeed is focus, determination, and work– to be anxiously engaged. To live it every day, not just when the pressure of a deadline causes me to work at it. To set aside time for it, to really put forth that mental work I spoke of earlier.

To stop drifting aimlessly.