Sunday, July 24, 2011

Fritterin' Away

What a week. I spent a fair portion of it outside my comfort zone. Well, much more than usual at least. There were mainly two things, the second being having to speak in church today.

It was... Interesting. It's really neat to sit there and watch your system get all worked up. Before I spoke, I was amused at the constant increase of anxiety. I knew it would be fine. Even if I messed up, no one would probably really even care, right? I don't know a lot of people there particularly well in the first place, so there was no risk of tarnishing my non-existent image. Regardless, I sat there and noticed my heart rate increasing, the faint dew of sweat forming on my brow, and my mouth becoming progressively drier. I did some breathing exercises to slow things down, which temporarily helped, but not quite to the extent I was hoping for. It was kind of like watching a freight train come in your direction at 2km/h. You can push back all you want, it'll probably make you feel like you're at least doing something, but the train won't care and still plow you over. It's a case of your body being completely disconnected from your concious mind - I could rationalize all I wanted about how nothing was really on the line and it'd be fine, but it didn't do the least bit of good. It's frusterating when you don't have command of your body like that. Anyways, I finally got up to give my talk, and it was alright, I think. Apparently I sped up quickly at the beginning before I relaxed for the rest. Got a couple compliments at the end, so that probably counts for something.

The other thing I did this week out of my comfort zone was more of a psychological battle, I think. Leading up to and during it... I don't know how to describe it. I can't compare it to being physically nervous like I was for the talk, because... None of those symptoms were there. It was the exact opposite. It felt like my brain was turning to mush, but my body just smiiiiiled and kept on goin'. The whole thing was something I kinda told myself a long time ago that I'd never do again. And I'd held that part up remarkably well. Until Wednesday, of course. And with it came the inevitable stream of thought patterns and ideas that I had successfully stashed out of sight for some time. It was like... The framework for my wind was being rattled. I felt a bit more... Not shaken up or unbalanced, just... Unsturdy. I wasn't sure of my footing, I guess. But I plowed through it. Didn't go as poorly as I expected, but the aftermath has left me sorting through some baggage. Trying to figure out what to leave out and what to put back away.

Sketch-18

So I kinda needed to get out for a bit this evening. I had to walk it all off. It's nice to pound the world under your feet, instead of the other way around. It didn't really come with any closure or startling revelations... It was just something that had to be done.

I went home a few weeks ago to celebrate my parent's anniversary. I forgot my backpack there, and so it was shipped out to me, and some of my old shirts were included as packing material. I wasn't thinking about it, and threw one on to bum around the house in. It smells like home wherever I go. Hm.

And that's all I got, really. I feel like I'm in the middle of tidying something up, and feeling a bit far away and uninvolved. Not a heavy or oppressive notion... Just one of curious detachment.
-Cril

Well either you're closing your eyes to a situation you do now wish to acknowledge
Or you are not aware of the caliber of disaster
Indicated by the presence of a pool table in your community
Well you got trouble, my friend,
Right here, I say, trouble right here in River City.
Why sure I'm a billiard player, certainly mighty proud I say I'm always mighty proud to say it
I consider that the hours I spend with a cue in my hand are golden.
Help you cultivate horse sense
And a cool head
And a keen eye
Did you ever take and try to give an iron clad leave to yourself from a three-rail billiard shot?
But just as I say,
It takes judgement, brains, and maturity to score in a balk-line game,
I say that any boob
Can take and shove a ball in a pocket

Robert Preston - Ya Got Trouble

No comments: