Open mind

It’s interesting to me how some things will always stick with you. There are incidents you remember clearly, or contradictions that keep coming back to you, and sometimes maybe there’s a lesson there.

Along with writing about various struggles, I have written at times about worldview, and self-definition, and that maybe it is a mistake to even try and define yourself, because you might make it too narrow. I guess another issue is having self-definition as too fixed.

One thought that has come to me many times (though I don’t think I have ever written about it) is that I feel like I got all the easy stuff out of the way early, and then it was just this plateau. I gained a lot of spirituality early, and I learned to control my temper pretty well, but the issues that I have left that need correction are really hard ones where I fail a lot.

That is mainly weight, of course. I have often berated myself for being lazy in frustration as I continually fail to make any progress, and yet, that has not felt right either. This is that sense of contradiction I mentioned. I can work really hard, with great concentration and effort and patience. Usually those tasks are something finite, where it may take a while, but I know that it can be done. I think a big issue for me has been that I have never really believed that I could lose weight.

I wrote earlier about believing I was fat long before I was really fat, and how I did not want to think about it or examine it, which was what led to it becoming true without me realizing what was happening. I think I missed another factor, relating to how people can change things with work.

Let me back up. We moved here right before I started first grade. Kindergarten was not available in the public schools at that time, but it was still pretty standard for kids to go. I did not, and so I started grade school at a lower level than most of the kids. I was expected to be slow, but that’s not what happened.

I was put in the lowest reading group, where you just had ditto sheets assembled into little booklets, with stories about a tin man and a pig, because there were no words longer than three letters. I remember wanting to know what was in all the books, and vowing that I would get promoted to Pug (the second level), and make my way through all the different books. That’s not how it happened. After maybe two weeks or so, I was moved up to Green Feet, which was the highest reading group. So, my plans for conquering all of the books were thwarted, but now I was not regarded as slow.

That was good, and being intelligent was good, but this good thing in me did not feel like it required any effort. Everything was so easy that I developed no study habits to speak of. I would take my books home, ignore them completely while I read for pleasure or watched television, and then do my homework on the way to school and before school the next day. There was only one teacher who ever really called me on it. (That was Mr. Wright, fifth grade English. Apparently he graded me on my potential, triggering my first cycle of buckling down before bad habits and procrastination kicked in again.)

I have another example to illustrate this, but it is kind of obnoxious. At the beginning of fourth grade, the English teachers were explaining that there would be three levels of spelling tests: easy, medium, and hard. After I took the first one, I asked Mr. King when we would get to the hard ones. He just looked at me, irritated, and did not answer. Somehow, I had gotten the idea that we would all do easy ones for a while, and then medium ones, and I wanted the timeline for when it was going to get interesting. In reality, we had been divided into three groups, I was in the hard one, and he probably thought I was trying to show off. (To be fair, I am not generally obnoxious on purpose.)

Anyway, the point is that I never had to work at being smart. If I got bad grades, it was my own issues with time management, but never that I actually couldn’t do the work. And, from the way things were set up, I don’t remember anyone else progressing either. There were kids who were smart, and kids who weren’t. By the same token, there were kids who were athletic and kids who weren’t, and I don’t remember anyone making the transition. It’s stupid, really, because you hear that practicing is important and that effort is important, and yet I still felt like you just are what you are.

Perhaps I owe part of my epiphany to a King of the Hill episode (I love that show). In one, Bobby was preparing for the presidential fitness tests, and he was really working hard. He ended up able to do one pull-up, but he didn’t get the medal because the requirement was three. Still, Hank pointed out all the kids who didn’t even do one, and that he could work at it again for next year. I never believed that I could do the flexed-arm hang. I dutifully tried and failed each year, but if faith without works is dead, well, maybe works without faith are dead too.

I am trying to open my mind to the possibility that there are ways in which I actually can change. I don’t think it helps to say anything is possible. A lot of things are possible, but you know, I actually can’t become an Olympic gymnast now, and I don’t believe I could have then, even if I started when I was four. That’s okay though, because I don’t want to be an Olympic gymnast.

I would like to be at a healthy weight. I have set goals for this many, many times, but really, I never believed it would happen. I need to cast of the shackles of the mind. And, I need to think and see if there are other areas where I have limited myself. I guess it is time for some goal-setting again.

Realistically, I have been doing this self-exploration for I guess about four years now, and I do know that just because you identify a false belief, you are not automatically free from it. I also know that I have gotten better, and I believe I will continue to do so. If nothing else, I am grateful to be aware, of both my flaws and virtues, and I am grateful to be happy in spite of all the problems.