2:48 p.m. - 2005-10-06
I’ve been given a ‘task’ at my job. This is something that I’m loathing, although that’s not quite the right word. It’s not that extreme. But I am being asked to dig deep into myself, and ask myself for an honest answer.
In the pondering of this question I can feel the walls of defence grow thicker and higher. My constant companions of loneliness, inadequacy, and fear are rearing their ugly heads, but in both an excited and trepidations way. “Why”, you ask, “Should such an ominous entourage be double minded?”
On one side – they have been given new food to goad me. But on the other side – they fear having the light shined upon them, and thus potentially banishing them from my life.
Now you are probably asking yourselves “what is this task?”
Well, I’ve been given the task to ask myself – What am I good at? And following that, how can I be challenged in that?
This might not look like such a difficult question, but for me … it is very daunting. I have always followed and done what I was told. I have not been taught to think (and feel) for myself. So, to be asked a question like that, and NOT go asking others for the answer – is quite scary. My basic sense is to run fast, run hard, run long, and avoid answering the question above all cost.
I cannot, at this date, think clearly about it. I keep coming up with excuses for why I’m not good at what I “might” think I’m “possibly” good at. This question truly scares me, because it is asking me to know myself, and I’m not too sure if I do.
Oh, how can someone get to the ripe old age of 43, and not know herself? But then again, my mom is 83 and hasn’t accomplished it either. This apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree.
It’s Canadian Thanksgiving this weekend. We are supposed to go up to the In-laws- which is fine by me – except we don’t have any trust worthy vehicles other than the motorcycle. It’s been raining all week and is supposed to continue through the weekend. The way I’m feeling right now – I want it to keep raining all weekend (thereby cancelling any possibility of a cold, wet trip up island), stoke the fire, and have a stack of magazines and books on the floor beside me as I curl up on the comfy couch and ignore the world.
We’ll have to see how this is going to turn out.
In the meantime, I’m sneaking in one more. . . .