the way to our neighborhood and a few weeks ago I noticed something. A piece of trash, more specifically a Taco Bell wrapper, had made its way onto my path. I glanced down at it and kept walking. After a few steps I decided that I would be a responsible citizen and lover of the environment so I turned around and went back to pick it up. It felt pretty good. Then something strange happened. After a little while later I noticed another piece of trash and then another. I picked up as much as I could and carried it the rest of the way to the bookstore and disposed of the wretched litter. I have since noticed that every time I walk to or from work, it seems that there is more trash than the time before. It seems that every trip I notice more and more trash. When I finally noticed the first piece it opened my eyes to the massive amounts of trash along the road between my house and my place of employment.Since that seemingly meaningless observation that day, I have begun to notice other things. Small things that seem insignificant that have opened my eyes to much larger issues. I have recently noticed that I enjoy routine and repetition. My job at the bookstore is very similar from day to day, tedious, detail specific, repetitive kind of work that might drive many to the nut house. I, on the other hand, find it very soothing to know exactly what to do and how to do it over and over again. I find ways to be more efficient and productive and how to make fewer and fewer mistakes. However, his observation about myself has shown me something else as well. I don't like change in the routine. I get nervous, anxious, down right panicked. I don't like trying something new. It terrifies me. I began to wonder why...I asked those close to me about it and probed for some insight. The resounding answer...something like this...
"You're afraid you might fail.""You're afraid you might look stupid."
"You don't like to make yourself vulnerable and put yourself out there."
"It's the same reason you won't blog."
OK, OK, I get it. I really don't like to give up too much of myself. I am very uncomfortable in situations where I need to share things about myself with those I don't know very well. This is why I haven't been a very consistent blogger. Too vulnerable. I have an unsubstantiated fear that I might do something stupid, that others might think less of me, if I let them see too much of me. Don't ask me why.
Example: I have been interested in getting involved in a reading group for Hebrew since the spring. I heard about one a few weeks ago and last week was the first week I was going to attend. I was excited. Looking forward to it...that is until the morning that it arrived. I dreaded going all morning long. On a number of occasions I tried to talk myself into not going. I determined to go and finally made it and was glad I did.
I have some issues to work out and I am hoping that writing on this blog will help me with some of those issues. I am going to attempt to put my thoughts out there for someone else to read, to disagree with, to comment on...oooo, scary...
So I keep walking to work, picking up the trash as I go...it's a routine now...
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