There are times in your life when you feel like things are going along swimmingly. Work is at its best, friends are supportive, things are clicking into place. Parking spots open up for you, in front of the busiest of stores, that kind of thing.
I am not having one of those times.
Not to say that Its All Turned To Shit, I’ve been there as well, and this isn’t one of those times either. No, it’s more like…it’s more like Pinterest when people hold up their examples of trying to emulate something they think is fantastic, and producing less than mediocre results. This is what is happening in my life. I’m trying to be my normal self and failing. For some reason, I’m off my game. I’ve misunderstood people, misread sitautions, misplaced alliances, made assumptions. I’ve made an ass of myself (more than usual) and more than once volunteered this ass-ness in front of other people. Just recently I read a silly piece of writing in front of a group of serious people just to see if it would make them crack a smile. It got a smile, a few titters. Not much else. But I knew it was going to fail…and I did it anyway. Why? And why did I then, two weeks later, offer up an opinion in a seminar, which was totally if not completely wrong, and I knew it was, and made apologies about it as I was speaking? Huh? Can I not shut my mouth? I can suffer from Thy mouth Runneth Over, but there was a time when I could control this, at least in the presence of people I was trying to learn from, people I admired.
But when I fail, I tend to do so spectacularly.
I met a writer at a camp whom I adored (actually she was running the camp) and managed to spill a fairly large glass of water in her direction and almost over every single participant’s papers. Heh! Ha Ha! FUNNY. Good one, dumbass. I was not very impressed with Me.
I’ve also managed to misalign slides in speeches, back when there was such a thing. Going way back here, I once started a hurdles race only to…not finish it. I don’t actually know what happened, I just started it and then, stopped at the third one, walked off, and promptly quit the track team. During that same tenuous phase of life I had somehow snagged a much coveted solo in the choir performance. But instead of singing the actual piece, I sang the jazzy, throaty version I had been secretly singing in the shower. As I left the stage my instructor looked like he was actually going to have a heart attack. I’ve never seen anyone’s ears that red, before or since. It was, in teenage terms, a major fuck up. Sooo…. I joined a band, decided to smoke, and generally gave the two fingers up to anyone who thought I wasn’t doing it right. I was much better at it.
And yet, it’s really just about insecurities, isn’t it. I’m way harder on myself then anyone else ever is. Turns out no one in the audience knew the jazz version wasn’t what I was supposed to sing. And most likely as soon as I took my seat in the audience of readers, no one remembered a word I had said. Maybe.
I just need to get past the part where I know I am failing at things, accept it, and move on. So what if I’m stuck on a story that I can’t seem to get right? So what if I’ve received another rejection letter? So what if I misread the situation for the thirteenth time….ok, it goes on and on. Just be patient with me right now. I’ve spent too much time alone in the basement, musing on creative and personal imperfection. It’s a by-product of naval gazing artist types. Perhaps I should try baking. Because if I’m going to be bad at something, maybe it should just be really, really bad, and I can feed this badness to my loved ones so they can suffer too. Just maybe not the pretzels.
I’m not sure I could put those on the table.