I’m easily shaken. This morning as I was reading Instapundit, my computer monitor stopped working. I couldn’t fix it in the 15 minutes I had before I left for school so during the three hours of my training this morning, I was weighed down by worries about my computer (finally fixed by 2pm).
“Are you coming down with something?” I was asked at one point. People picked up on my glum mood.
I’m easily shaken. I’m lacking in emotional resilience. If I have computer trouble or any technical trouble, be it with my car or vacuum cleaner or stove or DVD player or TV, I get thrown and this problem becomes all I can think about. If a girl I like does not return my call in 24 hours, I’m thrown. I get obsessed. That missing tile in my ceiling is all I can think about.
This is symptom of my lack of connection. If I shouldered more adult responsibilities, if I was responsible for more in life than just myself, I wouldn’t be so thrown by these petty difficulties.
My life is pretty empty. I’ve spent half of my Thanksgivings alone the past 15 years. I’m not connected in a deep way to other people. And to shield myself from this shame, I invent ways of imagining myself as grand. My grandiosity is a protection from my fears that I’m not enough.
I’ve been emotionally affected by my interview with Bill Plake last night. When I asked him when he became confident in his Alexander teaching, he said that over time, he became increasingly confident in the Technique itself. That its principles when practiced work.
I’ve adopted a lot of great things like Alexander Technique over the course of my life but I end up wasting a lot of my time imagining myself as some great exponent of the sacred craft. I end up wasting my life in delusions of grandeur. I keep thinking — “How will I become a great teacher of Alexander Technique?” But the truest part of that sentence is “How will I become great?” That’s my preoccupation. I feel like if I can only become great, then I won’t feel so ashamed.
I’m really seeking — how can I make myself great through the Alexander Technique. How can I use the Alexander Technique/Judaism/whatever to show the world how wonderful I am?
Because of these tendencies, I’ve developed a reputation over my life of being a user.
If I could let go of my pursuit of grandiosity, I could ask myself, “How can I live up to the things I ostensibly espouse?” Instead of preaching about Judaism and Alexander Technique and 12-step work, I could try instead quietly living them without regard to my own fame.
