Through some emotional revelations in the last few months, I've learned
a lot about how I really am. I am not as
easy going as I once like to think I was.
Truth be told, I am ok with that one.
I like things a certain way and I am a certain way. I think it’s totally normal to have a
mini-mental-freak-out if something isn't just so. I don’t care what anyone says, even the easy
going ones, everyone has a “thing” that sets them off when it isn't done
right. My to-be-brother in law is one of
the most chilled out people in the world… until he told me I was doing the
washing up wrong because I left the sharp part of the knives facing up instead
of down. Point taken. I now always lay them flat or stand them pointy
end down.
Another of eureka moment about myself is that I'm somewhat of a control
freak. You can see the link. I don’t like to be out of control in any
situation. It’s part of the reason I've
given up drinking for a while. I don’t enjoy
the feeling of not quite knowing what I'm doing. At work, it’s always a challenge because, by
the nature of the work we do, it involves responding to unexpected and serious
situations. It’s a control freak’s nightmare.
Leading onwards (and yes, this is the order all of these
mini-epiphanies came to me) I am only a mere mortal. This is problematic considering I like things
to be a certain way and I like to be in control. The problem I have is that there is only so
much I can do. I can’t do everything,
nor can I fix everything. That one
bothers me. It’s a genetic gift that
seems to have been passed down through my Gran to my Mum, and from her to me and
my sister. When things go wrong, we don’t
like being unable to help or do something to put it right. When faced with a mistake I've made, my dread
is that I might have to get someone else to put it right, if it’s beyond my
control to do something about it.
I was reading back through my diary and I had this series of thoughts
several times over in the course of a few weeks before I remember actually
realising what I had been saying to myself over and over again; I can only do
so much. The section in the pages where
it seems to have really clicked is where I go on a rant about
possibilities.
The optimists of the world would have us believe that there are an
infinite number of possibilities in the universe and for every choice or
action, there are an infinite number of responses or results. Poppy-cock.
Utter bollocks. No, just no! We do not live an infinite universe. We live in a world of boundaries. You cannot jump off a building and
float. You fall to the ground and
declare “Whoops! That hurt a lot.” or you die.
There are only so many “equal and opposite reactions” to events in the
world. There is only so much that can actually happen in our world. The issue with this philosophical thought
stream I was on led me to another conclusion as well… I am not infinite in my capabilities. I have a fixed amount of time in a day at
work, or at home, in which to get done everything I might want to. Other people have an impact on this too. People want me to do things or to see me or
require my services in some fashion. It
limits the possibilities for what I can do.
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So why do I keep beating myself up for only being able to do so
much? There is the question. I guess years of self-hard-wiring predisposes
me to aim for the opposite, but it isn't possible for me to do everything. Nor am I advocating apathy; to sit around on
my arse and do sod all because I wouldn't be able to do anything anyway. Sartre called that “bad faith”. The epiphanies I have had and the realisation
there are only so many possibilities has led me to this…
I should always aim to do as much as I can in a day. If I don’t get it all done, there are other
days in which to do it, so I can do it then.
None of that means I shouldn't try, but it does mean, if I'm not successful
because I didn't get to do whatever it was I wanted, that doesn't mean I won’t
or can’t. I just need to give it time,
be more patient with the situation and with myself.
Again, despite knowing this, having realised it and accepted it to be
true, this does not mean I don’t get stroppy when the paperwork mounts up
around me on my desk. It doesn't mean I don’t
get irritable when people ask me to do things for them as I have things to do
myself… Nor does it give me more time to
do everything I would like to do, either in work or out. It does mean that I celebrate the little
victories and successes of what I did manage to get done. Added bonus of that is that it gives me more “umph”
to actually want to do more and try harder.
Not a bad philosophy in the end.
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