Adjusting

Went bowling today, and despite reminding myself of the prior list, I didn't bowl that well. I did bowl 202 one game, and I averaged 154, but the first game was a 114 and my strike ball was very inconsistent. However, I did a decent job picking up my spares later in the six-game session. Near the end, I managed to convert a 3-9-10 spare. In order to make a 9-10, the ball needs to go right in between the two pins; there's only a few inches of error room. For this split, I had to think about the ball's reaction with the 3-pin, and where I'd need to hit the pin, in order to have the ball carom from that collision and end up right between the 9- and 10-pins. That I made it on my first attempt was wonderful, and I shouted "Yes!" and raised my fist in exhilaration.

Apart from bowling, my day has been busy. I had to go to the unemployment office to get recertified, as it's been a year since I last worked. I've done a number of household chores as well. And I've studied a lot of life contingency math.

While playing a little guitar, I started to cry, and I wept for quite a while. That "while Suzanne holds the mirror" line gets me often, even though I'm likely misinterpreting it. In short, I want to love myself, and I'm tired of getting beaten up by the world and beaten up by myself. If all esteem is self-esteem, then I need to un-swallow my pride and recognize how great I am. Yes, it stinks that I'm not working, but I have a plan that deserves execution. Yes, it stinks that so many others have children, but there's a plan in place on that front as well. Yes, it stinks that a lot of members of my family are dying, but they've had nice long lives, and it isn't right to use the earth more than others and take up space that new members of our world need to grow.

I'm tired of putting myself down. I desperately want to be happy with myself.

While driving back from the train station yesterday, our car was nearly hit by a driver that didn't even bother to look for uncoming traffic, and I said to Margie something along the lines of "why be a person that couldn't survive in a world of others just like yourself?" Coexist. Not just with others, but with yourself. If this world was made up of people that were just like you, how would you manage? If riots and crime sprees would develop like crazy, what does that say about the person you are?

If someone else in the world was just like me, how would I treat them? Would I put them down, question what little they've done, how they're wasting what talent they have? For too long, I would do such a thing. "Oh no," you might think, "you wouldn't be that cruel to someone else." Well, why not? I've been that cruel to myself for so long. Young Steve Carlson represents that person, the cruel one. He's quite successful in his career now, and he's likely a much better person as well. (Joining the Peace Corps doesn't harden people too much, I reckon.) But the person he was to me as a youth continues to live on, and I want to put him away forever. I'm no less special than anyone else.

Problems are challenges. Challenges can be overcome, and those attempts can be enjoyable.

Look in the mirror, Dave. What you see is beautiful. It's alive, vibrant, lovable. What you see is you.