Slip Pupils in Dark Corners

"Any decision, even if it looks and feels like the right one, made out of fear will never lead to happiness" - T. N., pg 25, 7/20/2006

I never thought one of the token pretty things I picked up at the bookstore at The Huntington would ever be more than a conversation piece when I was 17. But evolution is its own miracle, even in the form of a tiny notebook.

It's become my catch-all for funny things I hear, profound images I come across and plan to use in a book someday, and thoughts that come to me that I don't want to loose. It's a confidant that I call a thought notebook. Crazy creative huh? I've tried to think of a name or title for it but all wit on the matter has alluded me. It's let me quote myself, reflect back on moments of clarity, and let me feel (just for a second) like the deep person I hope to be someday.
It also lets me add to conversations I've had with myself or fully digest, in retrospect, things I didn't understand before.

There was one quiet moment in church when someone was talking about something related to some brave acts that people in scripture have performed and that got me wandering in my brain about what makes someone brave. I've heard the solder's and Generals quotes saying "courage is not the absence of fear but doing what you have to in spite of it" and like sentiments from people how have had to face real fear and exhibited real bravery and have achieved great things because of it. Fear is then implied to be this constant that you simply have to learn to maneuver around. I didn't like that idea very much, it seemed so Defeatist to me. So I went to a happy place and started thinking about Forrest Gump.

Here's a man that achieved great things and never really understood half of what he did. I felt some connections coming on so I picked up my notebook -

"There is a difference between courage and simplistic fortitude. To have or demonstrate courage one must have a working knowledge of the consequences of failure. Oblivion to the stakes of the situation takes the concept of courage totally out of the equation." T.N., pg 15, 5/12/2004

But Forrest was afraid. He was afraid of a lot of things, like loosing Jennie or his friends, not getting shot in Vietnam or loosing face. His mind was always in higher plains because of his simplicity and that is what enabled him to do such great things, not being brave. He really is an amazing character.

I've taken out the concept of fear more than once since, looked at it, got a few chills, and decided to Scarlet O'Hara it for a day that I felt stronger.

Then I started watching Quarterlife about two weeks ago.
I know, I know.
"Liz - are you really watching that webisode thing?!"
Yes. Yes I am, and I'll tell you why. It's excellent.
(excellent = the writing is honest, the acting is great. It's not pretentious and I think about it after.)

What I've noticed what stays with me is that the way the show talks about fear and is so honest about it. Like I wish I could be brave enough and self aware enough to understand that the reason I may be catty to the person I love is because I'm afraid of them and the sway they have over me, or the real reason I resent my job is because I don't have the ovaries to get up and do what I really want to.

"Fear, pain, and discomfort are almost never the problem. It's the lack control related to each that starts fires" T.N., pg 30, 8/14/2006

The reason I make a lot of every day decisions is because I'm afraid of not being good enough, or not being loyal enough to my generation or the planet or my art, not making bills, not having anything to say for myself at cocktail parties, not being interesting enough even to flirt, of people leaving. It's all there and all scattered through the pages of my thought notebook guised as political insights or bad puns.

I haven't reached any sweeping or new conclusions. I know fear is irrational and based on unrealistic self imposed expectations derived from sensational media, fairy tales, our perceptions of "perfect people" and Oprah. I know that if I don't and am not everything I think I should be a big black hole will not open up in the street and suck me down to the Bog of Eternal Stench. And even if it did I would still probably be OK. My head knows all of this, but I think it's still traveling southward and hasn't landed yet.

I'm still scribbling in my notebook on the matter, but a little distance from it in the mirror of my computer monitor has made me pull out the concept a little more often lately and I've been feeling strong enough to actually look those darly lit slit pupiled eyes head on and I'm realizing they're the same blue as mine.

Proper Schagrins

I don't think we ever really leave high school.

They kick us out before we get a chance to resolve much of anything. It's just this big angst filled hole of questions, possibilities, hormones, bad clothes and beautiful moments with some pom poms and trophies thrown in for good measure.

I had a teacher there who was amazing. He was smart, well adjusted, a non-bureaucrat and had this way of talking to us like adults that I really appreciated.

Since he was such a good guy they gave him the honors track of kids so we got to spend a good amount of time together. My band also jammed in his office after hours (he was a pretty cool teacher) so we got a chance to chat a lot. We knew he loved his honors kids but he always kind of made fun of us. He called us drama queens and "reactionary" because of the All-Or-Nothing mentality we somehow managed to create and propagate in our over-anxious group think. He would sit back and laugh at how high strung we would get about tests and projects ie G.A.T.E. Syndrome.

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Definition:
G.A.T.E Syndrome - thinking that one flaw in the mix will damn you to a lifetime of manual labor and life in the gutter.

Or what my mother calls "Clearing away the wreckage of your future"

Example:
**this is a direct quote from a conversation I had with a classmate before an AP Bio exam in 10th grade. Imagine a stressed out Chinese girl who hasn't eaten for 2 days in mid-histerics and speaking at mach 2.**

"If I don't get a good grade on this test then I will get a low GPA and if I don't have a perfect GPA then I won't get into a good college and then I won't get a good job and I'll have to ask for change in the gutter to get by and take my meals at the Salvation Army."
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I shared the views of my teacher for the most part. I never really felt my life was on the line with every test or project. But after him bringing it to light with such candor and seeing such gross evidence of it all around me, I resolved to be a bit more checked when it came to big tests and projects, to perspective, and not fixate on grades. My mantra from then has been "It's what I learn, not the marks I get" and I've been very loyal to it. There was a class in college where I was given an A and all I did was be the talkative person my professor wanted but I didn't learn a thing so I retook the class, got a B and felt much better about life.

But apparently October is the season for departures of rational thinking.

I got my midterm back and I passed and passed well. I didn't lead the class, and I didn't expect to, but my grade immediately left me feeling very foolish about how worried I was about it. I know there were a lot of prayers and positive thoughts going out for and to me because I have a marvelous group of people that love me and that were beautifully patient with my GATE Syndrome relapse - because that's exactly what it was.

Like most things - I am going to be OK.

A bit shook up, and given a reminder that I have to actually try this time around and not phone it in, but I'm OK. I'm still breathing and I'm not going to flunk out of college and become a Meter Maid that lawn bowls on the weekend and watches Bridges of Madison County once a week.

Not yet at least. We'll see how Grad School treats me.

For today, right now, I'm OK - and suddenly missing my band mates from high school. We did a mean Buffalo Springfield cover - let me tell ya.