It seems quite some time since I've written a blog. I generally do so only when I have some coherent and purposeful thought to communicate (very uncharacteristic of typical blog fare, I'll admit). Right now though--right now, I'm just writing. I've been drinking a lot of tea lately. Tea is good, because it makes you slow down. You can't really drink a cup of tea quickly. Tea makes the world seem just a little more sane, a little more...alright. I like the way it smells. I don't generally like smelling like anything other than myself, which is why I don't wear cologne, but I think if I could smell like tea all the time I would. The fact that I am about to graduate seems odd. I think it seems odd because the way that I view myself still hasn't caught up with who I am. I always have these moments where I am interacting with someone and the whole time I am thinking to myself: you're acting like an adult. The key word there is like. I was legally declared an adult by our great nation over four years ago, and I still don't think of myself that way. The idea that people might come to me for advice (spiritual, relational, or psychological) is still terrifying to me. I mean, in the moment it isn't terrifying; it's natural. When I start thinking about it though, then it's terrifying. Because that's when I wonder why they are asking a scared kid for advice. I guess I am just still trying to grasp hold of the way in which the world actually works--or doesn't work as the case may be. For example, it's hard to hold onto the illusion that the world is somewhat stable, when you realize that you are one of the most stable people you know and you're a wreck. It's really sobering when suddenly you are expected to give hurting people answers, assurances--sobering because you doubt that you more than sometimes can. It's the kind of sobering that makes one want to drink heavily. I guess sometimes it's just hard to have hope for the world when I know that I'm one of the good guys. With the surprising dearth of any genuinely good things that I have ever done in my life, what is more surprising is that I constantly meet people who have done, and who do, even less. Maybe this should make me feel better about myself--maybe, but it doesn't. I am not a great person. I am one of the most selfish and self-absorbed people I know. I am manipulative and cruel, and sometimes I ignore people simply because I don't see how their friendship benefits me. I am not a great person. I am not saying these things to garner sympathy. That's not what I need, and not what I want. I'm saying these things because I am absolutely terrified that they may mean what I think they mean: that I might have to be something more than I am. I might have to actually do the things that no one else is doing, to see the people that no one else sees, and to love everyone until it really, actually hurts. And that scares me, because I already hurt so much. You know, people often wonder why I shy away from romantic relationships the way that I do. Well, there are a lot of reasons, but one of the biggest ones is that I know myself. That means that anyone who I would want to be with is exactly the sort of person I'd like to keep safe from someone like me. It's not so much that I don't want to get hurt, as people seem to assume; it's because I don't want to hurt someone else. Call it altruism if you'd like, but it's still fear: fear of myself. Abraham Maslow wrote about what he called the Jonah complex, which was basically the tendency to run away from one's potential. In my more grandiose moments, that is how I see myself: a prophet running from his divine destiny. When I am honest though, I wonder if that isn't just a fantastic alternate reality that I contrive in a vain effort at preserving my illusions of self-determination and personal efficacy. I wonder if my laziness is not covering some great treasure, but instead a sick hoax. I keep evading the future, but it's here again and I have to make decisions. These decisions are only indirectly related to ideas of vocation and education. And I'm making the first one right now: letting go. | 
