Success?
When I got home from school today, I got online and the first thing that I saw was a headline that said Heath Ledger had been found dead at the age of 28. My mouth dropped open, even though I wouldn’t have called myself a great fan of his work; I have only seen him in a handful of films. I think this surprised me so much because of his age and his seeming success. It surprised me more to learn that his death could have been the result of a suicide.As I was reading about all of this, it made me wonder why people, including myself, often place celebrities on top of their list of people imitate. It is so easy to see the luxuries and the fame and not truly focus on what’s underneath all of it.
When I think of a successful life, I often think very materialistically. If I were to make a list of things that show success, I would probably include a nice house, expensive cars, popularity, a large bank account, and other similarly outward things. These things come to mind first, I think, because the American culture is so wrapped up in them. I was watching a talk show a while back, and the guests were a group of young teenage girls. When asked who they wanted to be like, a couple said Paris Hilton. I wondered what in the world would make them want to be like her instead of anyone else. I’m taking what I assume to be a pretty accurate guess in thinking that these girls were not admiring Hilton’s character, but were seeing her success as defined by Hollywood terms and believing that materialistic success was more important than philanthropy or integrity.
I think every single person fantasizes about “the good life.” Everyone wonders how different life would be with a million dollars, or a nicer house, or more luxury items. And there’s nothing wrong with a life of luxury, but all too often I see that and automatically equate it, or perhaps even place it higher, than a life of sacrifice or just mere normalcy.
Though I don’t understand why, I like reading about various celebrities. A few months back, after Owen Wilson’s alleged suicide attempt, I was reading an article about him on TV Guide’s website. Some of the comments posted by people surprised me. One person wondered why Wilson would ever opt for suicide when he has a successful film career, money, extravagance, etc. They thought he should be satisfied with all of that, saying if they had what he had they wouldn’t have the same problems.
It seems as if no one is ever truly content with their lives, at least not for long. And, in a way, that’s a good thing; being complacent is no way to live. But to always be lunging after these unrealistic goals is sort of ridiculous.
I subscribe to several magazines, and by the time I finish flipping through them I have probably thought, “If only I had that outfit, that bag, that hair, those legs…” I forget that all I have is who I am in this exact moment: a 5′2” self who is a self-proclaimed nerd and bookworm. I am very pleased with my life, and realize I am incredibly blessed. But that doesn’t keep me from thinking that life would be even better if I was more successful in the outer and materialistic ways so beloved by modern society.
If Ledger’s death was indeed the result of suicide, I hope that no one judges him too harshly for that, believing that he had everything he could ever have wanted. I hope that no one rolls their eyes and thinks that if they had what he did, they would be grateful instead of depressed. When it comes down to it, we can never know if money or power or outer beauty could ever really make us happier. Perhaps those things could for a time, but happiness is not directly related to “success.”
When I think about what success really looks like, I want to think of Mother Teresa before Paris Hilton. I want to think of someone like Martin Luther King, Jr. before I think of Tom Cruise. Instead of striving for life’s luxuries, my time would be better suited striving to be a better human being, one that understands that success is most often determined only in legacy.
Fog
Very rarely do I feel as if I have any idea what I’m doing. I think that’s why I like my job so much. I’m good at what I do, and I get praised for my efforts. I think I like writing English papers so much because they usually come back with an A and that reminds me that there are some things in life I am actually good at. Outside of work and English classes, however, I usually feel as if I am just wandering about, not entirely sure what’s going to come next.
These feelings started during my senior year in high school. No longer could I put planning for the future off–the future was here and it was called graduation. While I was trying to cope with the idea of being done with high school, the “c” word started coming to mind a lot: “college.” It usually made me feel a bit queasy. I put off the application process for as long as I could. I had no idea where I wanted to go, what I truly wanted to do, but I did have a long list of fears about what I thought I could not do. I decided to enroll in my local community college because, being a homeschooled kid, I had never in my life set foot in a classroom before and that school simply seemed safe.
Though I was slightly terrified, my first day there was wonderful. I loved my time at that institution. I passed all of the math and science classes I thought I would struggle in. I was blessed with some amazing instructors. I read some great pieces of literature. I received my diploma from this school last week. It’s strange now looking back at the me two years ago who was scared to death to even apply to a college, let alone attend one.
I start my first semester at my new university on Tuesday. I have been excited, stressed, terrified, nervous, anxious, but now I’m back to being excited.
I think I make decisions in a strange way. I can stress and ponder and plan and dream about something for months, but there always comes a moment when I just know what I’m supposed to do. When I was a little girl and still had my training wheels, there was a day when I simply decided I wanted my dad to take them off. It wasn’t a process and it never usually is for me. It was like that with this school, which explains the peace I have about it, in spite of the whole “This is all new” anxiety.
I will, if all goes according to plan, have my Bachelor’s Degree in English within the next two or three years. And then? I have no idea. And that uncertainty bothers me. It eats at me. It gnaws at peace until it turns straight into fear.
I’ve been thinking lately that I have a lot of fears. Failure. Abandonment. Living a passionless life. What scares me most, I think, is that I will someday become a woman who thinks life is simply something to get through rather than something to cherish.
I was driving home from somewhere tonight, and there was an intense amount of fog. I could barely see what was around me. I couldn’t really see turns in the road until I was right upon them. All I could make out was the road a few feet ahead of my car. And, really, that was all I needed to see.
At this point in my life, it can often feel like I am existing in this huge fog. I want so badly to know the plan, to know the steps, and to know the direction I’m headed but all I can see is what is directly in front of me. That is all I need, but so often when I need never truly feels as if it’s enough in the end.
I want to reach a point where I am okay with the fog, where I am okay with the unknown. I have always wondered how and why things work the way they do, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with those questions; they are vital questions, actually. But so often I wonder about my future and expect the results to pop up like search results in Google, but answers don’t usually work that way. I don’t want to spend these years too knee-deep in apprehension to truly enjoy my life. I want to become the person who is okay with only knowing the road a few feet ahead since that is the only road I need in the first place.
Tell Me Who I Am
I’m not one of those people who can walk up to anyone and start a conversation. I’m not the girl that constantly has to be surrounded by people and motion and activity. I love being with the people I care about, but I have little interest in being around people who I either don’t know that well or don’t have much interest in. (New Year’s Resolution: Work on loving people better.) In spite of this, I love studying people. I love movies that give me access into someone’s thoughts and history. I love novels that allow me to see deep into a person’s life, that allow me to see why they made the choices they did or why they regret the choices they didn’t make.
In the last English class I took, we read The Scarlet Letter. Though I found it a bit dry at times, it is slowly becoming one of my favorite pieces of literature, not so much because it’s quick, easy reading but because the writing is so well-done and telling. Hawthorne’s book is a great example of what happens when someone hides and what happens when someone admits their mistakes and moves on.
One thing that angers my normally patient, sympathetic self is when I see someone living a false life. I cannot stand it when someone professes one thing but lives in complete contradiction to their professions. I assume this pet peeve of mine is common in most people, yet we all hide in one way or another.
Most men have a thing for sports. Most women have a thing for shoes. Doctor McDreamy has a thing for ferryboats, and I have a thing for quotes. My Internet homepage displays a new quote everyday and this is the one for today that started this whole rant:
“Almost all our faults are more pardonable than the methods we resort to to hide them.” -Francois de La Rochefoucauld
That got me thinking: what do I hide behind? Religiosity? At times, yes. A seemingly impenetrable exterior? Oh yes. Sarcasm? Definitely.
I have to wonder how many people truly like who they are. I was watching TV the other day, and almost all the ads were for diets or weight-loss. Most every woman’s magazine features articles on how to have better skin, better thighs, better sex, etc. There is this pile of dissatisfaction that plagues so many of us.
It’s much easier to hide behind shields of make-up than to walk around knowing your un-even complexion or acne-prone skin is there for the whole world to see. It’s much easier to hide behind shields of smiles and laughter than to admit the brokenness is there and eating away at you. It’s much easier to hide behind shields of spirituality when, inside, traces of grace or redemption are nowhere to be found.
No one likes to be fooled, but so often we walk around trying to fool ourselves and everyone else. Why is it so pertinent that we receive validation from people who are just as fallen and broken as we are? Why is it that I can see the foolishness in this search, yet still find myself on the journey for it?
Because There Needed to Be Another Blog Post About Resolutions
At the beginning of every year, I always take some time to reflect on what the previous year taught me. I remember lessons I learned, challenges I faced, and moments that I either handled correctly or screwed up miserably. (And yes, I realize that sounds a bit cheesy, but I’m writing this so I can say whatever I want.) As I examine these various happenings, I usually notice a common theme. I can usually sum up the main lesson I’ve learned. I suppose the biggest thing I learned in 2007 is that I can’t worry about what will happen tomorrow or next week or ten years from now. I should plan, yes, but not worry.I turned twenty last year and am currently in my third year of college. In many ways, I liked my first year of college a lot more because I didn’t have to have a set plan then. When someone asked me what I planned to do with my life, a shrug and an “I don’t really know” was sufficient. But now I actually need some sort of a plan, whether I stick to it or not. And I have a plan, but am I 100% certain that it’s the right one for me? Not in the slightest.
In an ideal world, I would be a highly paid writer, the proud owner of a summerhouse in Paris, and would have a constant non-skin-cancer-producing-tan. But life is not ideal and I’d be ignorant to believe it was. I hate not being able to see the road in front of me. I hate guessing when I take a step. I like to have a plan, a schedule, and a routine. Life’s twists and turns were not meant for people like me.
I know in my head that God has a plan for my life. I also know that it is probably best that I don’t see the whole thing right now. But it’s believing this in my heart that is the difficult part.
But I have realized that when I sit and think about my future with dread instead of hope that I am wasting today. When I question and wonder and doubt I am wasting the only moment I am actually promised. How much richer might my life be right now if only I trusted more and realized that the darkness is not always such a bad thing.
I don’t usually make resolutions, but I did this year. Learning to live my life on a day-by-day basis tops the list. I want to love people as Jesus did because I currently fail miserably in this area. I want to become better at saving money for my lovely pile of student loans. I want to read more classic literature. I want to fall in love with writing poetry again. I want to fall in love with the piano again. I want to stop letting my doubts and questions about God keep getting in the way of my total pursuit of Him. I want to stop being so incredibly self-addicted. I want to see beauty in the most unexpected of places. I want to give more. I want to be a better friend. I want to take more risks.
Most of the time, I feel as if I have no idea what I’m doing as a follower of Jesus. Most of the time, I don’t even feel like a follower of Jesus because I do such an awful job of following Him in the first place. But I have also decided that I never want to reach a point where I feel like I have this whole faith thing down. I never want to feel as if I know all there is to know. I don’t want God to be just another routine for me. And I don’t want my life to be something I just have to get through. I want it to be an incredible journey, and my fears and worries keep that from happening. If I am able to keep even a handful of these resolutions of mine, I know this year will be a good one. We’ll see…
