Friday, February 5, 2010

Kickin' it

I am a creature of habit who also is resistant to change.  I take a size 8 cement shoe.

Habits become habits because whatever it is you're doing, you (at first, perhaps) like it.  I like doing this therefore I will do it again and again and again.  And once it is firmly established in my day to day or week to week or what have you, woe to them who would take it away.  The comfort of habits is that, with respect to that one or two or 636 things, you need not think about it/them too much. You know exactly what the habit is, what is required of you, and voila - that habit of yours lives for another day.  A habit is not a routine-routine to me is something, an act or methodology, that creates efficiencies.  A morning routine is established (kettle on, shower, dry and dress, tea and breakfast) so I can get my tuchus out the door in time for work and thereby remain gainfully employed.  A habit is Saturday morning non-fat lattes, reading the paper from front to back, doing the crossword and staring at the cute lap-top mesmerized boy - hardly efficient. 

I have habits like putting my keys in my left pocket, throwing salt over my left shoulder and knocking wood,
listening to jazz when I cook, salsa when I do dishes and dance (occassionally at the same time, no wonder
my plates don't match), classical when I read and deep house/techno when I'm blogging. There will be no intermingling of food on my plate. Yo carrot, don't go sliding over to the peas without being asked first.  Comfortable, never changing...

Some habits are bad - smoking, an abusive relationship, picking your nose when you think no one's looking (someone is always looking. You can be in Antartica and believe me, the penguin is going to tell his friends.  They will not be amused.) Berating or belittling yourself over some triviality. Yup, that's a habit, one that I'm trying very hard to break.

Up until Grade 2, I had always been called smart. A clever little girl.  Then I gave someone the wrong direction to a classroom making them late and my teacher, Mrs. Campbell, turned on me and said, "You should just shut your mouth. How could you be so stupid? I'm very disappointed in you." And I shut my mouth and didn't open it again until Grade 8.  But I couldn't shake the "stupid" off so easily.  I tried, really tried not to be stupid, but whenever I came up against a challenge I'd immediately think "I'm too stupid, I'll never get this."  To this day, I break out into a sweat when someone says, "Hey, I got a riddle for ya".  I can't do them.  Or maybe I can, but I can't think, I'm that terrified. And ah, the sciences - I stood up at the board to do a quadratic equation, just shaking and panicking.  Girls in the front row were whispering the answer to me, but I was deaf and paralyzed, until Sister MacAdam said, "You're just showing off. Stop wasting our time. Go to the principal's office."  Stupid and a time waster.  I failed every chemistry exam I ever got - and I studied relentlessly.  But always in the back of my head, "How can you be so stupid?"

I focused on the arts, my strengths, in college and university and excelled.  The little voice went away.  I went out into the working world, toured in a couple of productions, was doing great!  I was in a snuggly relationship, what could go wrong?

"Ha, Lisa will never get this!"

Trivial fucking Pursuit. I landed on a science question, the question hadn't even been posed yet, and the snuggly creature had just told me I would never get it.  The little voice was now made flesh.  I was back at the chalk-board, back in front of my Grade 2 class.  He offered to help me use a computer (he was a consultant) and gave up saying, "If you need anything, I'll do it, ok?"  He would later tell me that when I confessed to him that I wasn't sure what the difference between a universe and a galaxy was, it was then that he started to fall out of love with me. 

The little voice left the physical world and went back into my head.

I'm hounded and haunted by those experiences to this day - stupid, not good enough, lazy...someone asked me what 5% of 1,200 was just the other day, and I went cold and ran.  And cried in the ladies washroom, all the while repeating the mantra,"Idiot, stupid stupid idiot." 

On average, it takes 3 weeks for something to become a habit.  I've done yoga 6 mornings a week for the last month and I find it difficult to start the day on the 7th when I don't do it.  It's become a habit.  So if I can do that, I can take on another habit - I'm going to take on not calling myself names. I'm going to iterate to myself, to my reflection if I have to, that I'm not stupid.  I'm going to step up with this brain that I do have and, if I'm so damn fearful of math or science, I'm going to the library to find a text book and start off at the beginning.  That will be a very smart thing to do.  And though I may need a high school level book, I don't care who sees me.

Not even the damn penguin.

LiliLaLarge

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