I used to be a lot of things.
I used to be angry, I used to be quiet. I was tough, over-determined, and yearned to be perfect. At 4, I was a competitive soccer coach’s dream player, but I was my own worst enemy. That lasted another 14 years.
I was “13 going on 30”, so they used to say. An old soul, a wise owl, whatever metaphor floats your ferry. Truth be told, I was confused as hell.
I was mad at the world and didn’t understand destructive human behaviors and unfiltered speech. Of course I wasn’t a toddler saying “I don’t understand destructive human behavior”, but my soul quivered at the sight or sound of anything “evil”. The concept of “karma” was innate and I constantly thought about the world outside of Jen.
What I didn’t understand was that my thoughts and behaviors were, in fact, self-destructive. I became what I disliked the most.
Self-aware to a fault. Determined to a fault. Thought-provoking to a fault. Deep to a fault.
At 12 I had 30 year-olds coming to me with their relationship problems; At 13 I had peers asking me to wake them up at 6am so they could join me on a morning run and become overly health-conscious like I was. I got along better with adults than with kids my age. Teachers were my best friends and in effect, my pre-mature maturity provided me with more opportunities and responsibilities than “normal”.
I was. I was. I was.
I used to be a lot of things.
At 18, I made a conscious decision to stop trying to figure out life.
Quit analyzing so much, quit finding faults, quit fixing, quit searching, quit finding meaning.
Start enjoying.
So I started enjoying.
Yep, that easy. No thinking, just doing.
My king-of-the-party brother definitely helped pave the way along with a boyfriend who was warm, open, spontaneous and the least “deliberate” person I know.
Now I choose to recognize constructive human behaviors and filter unfiltered speech. I know the world and people within it can’t be perfect and say the right things at the right time, but I can choose how it affects me.
I choose not to be mad at the world. I choose to embrace the good and say “nice try” to the bad. I’ve had enough practice to turn the bad into good to where finding good has become a natural reflex. I trained my brain at 18 and made a conscious change. So when people praise my positive attitude and my view on day-to-day life, not only is it a major compliment on the person I’ve BECOME, but it’s a testament to what we all can do.
This isn’t a post to pat who I’ve become on the back; it’s a post to show that my previous posts aren’t a crock of shit. I’m not embellishing my experiences to make you feel good about my adventures; I’m showing you the world inside my head that I took time to build.
I used to be a lot of things, but I’ve always been a word-person.
I believe in the power of words. I love the power of words. I adore the power of words. I respect the power of words. 99% of the time, I am careful, deliberate and sensitive with the words that come out of my mouth. I know saying something can make someone’s day or break someone’s day. Not saying something has the same power. What is said can never be unsaid.
I learned that when I think something negative and utter something negative, it essentially effects how I feel… negatively. The more I do it, the more it becomes habit. The more it becomes a part of everyday life, the less likely I am to skip around in a field of flowers and sing about how beautiful the world is. In fact, the image of happiness becomes aversive.
So I chose to think something positive, utter something positive, feel good, and make that a habit. In effect, that image of bumming around and being a cynic about the world becomes aversive.
And now, I am 22 going on 22. Comfortable with my age, comfortable with the world. I feel I’m right where I need to be, doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing.
“Life is too important to be taken seriously” a bundle of words very near and dear to my heart and what I’ll use to highlight the past few days:
Life is too important to be taken seriously, so I went to Helsinki for the day yesterday. Booked the tickets online at 10pm the night before and made the ferry 2-minutes before the gates closed.
Life is too important to be taken seriously, so I stayed up until 7am on Friday and Saturday to sing Russian karaoke and dance to Russian power ballads from the 60’s.
Life is too important to be taken seriously, so I sat in seminars at Jahad, a weekend convention bringing together 500 Estonian Jews, and listened to intellectual discussions in Russian and had no idea what was going on.
Life is too important to be taken seriously, so I watch 90s v 80s music on vh1 instead of the debate on CNN.
I’ll close with this awesome conversation I had with my supervisor on the way to Parnu, where the convention was:
- A: “Jen, did you bring your bathing suit?”
- B: “No, it’s like winter outside”
- A: “They have spa, you can wear mine”
- B: “Uhh, no I can’t”
- A: “Yes, you can, it’s like gummy”
Dance the night away,
Jenstonia – it’s supposed to snow on Friday.
:: jenstonia :: 