I went to a conference on socially responsible investing in Philadelphia last weekend; this time with two other Mac students and a story of triumph under my arm. It was deeply satisfying to present among other successes and to be flattered by other students attempting community banking schemes off of "The Macalester Model," but I felt guilty receiving credit for something that took so much work on the part of the administration. In any case, it meant a lot to me to show the folks who inspired me in the first place that they truly are having an effect on the world.
What stood out about the weekend was staying at the house of the people who started the Responsible Endowments Coalition, a few twenty-somethings that I really admire for their bravery and diligence in founding the 'movement.' I saw that they are scattered and unfocused like me. They aren't necessarily machines of efficiency; they leave papers for the last minute in favor of making animals out of marzipan, Afro-Cuban dancing, and conversations about poop. Ryan's attic seemed to be an archeological testament to fleeting passions come and gone; Eurekas gone stale, like so many garages and basements tend to become...pottery wheels, scuba gear, bike parts, yerba mate pots, protest signs, herb gardens, harmonicas, Esperanto...successful people have also seen many dead-ends and failures. I often get down on myself for not being focused enough and think that if I could only choose one thing on which to spend my energy, I could make a dent. But varied interests truly do feed into one another to make you a more effective and whole person; it was so clear that Morgan's singing contributed to her confidence in communicating with others and her strength in the face of uncertainty. Someone flattered me by saying that our voices and mannerisms were similar, so I drooled over her mouth contortions for the rest of the weekend. Anyway, that's beside the point: Didn't Ben Franklin both help found the United States AND discover electricity? Wouldn't Thomas Edison's garage be even more shameful than my father's? I guess I just started to feel a lot better about the way that I live my life.
It is likewise enlightening to have friends who "have it together" to remind me that ducks in a row aren't necessarily what would make me happy. Sometimes I convince myself that if I could wake up on time, if I would do all of my reading, if I were skinny and wore nicer clothes, if I kept in touch with my Grandmother, if I practiced the banjo every day, if I had a boyfriend instead of romantic ambiguities, if I had a plan for after graduation--I would be more satisfied with life. NOT TRUE. (the capitals are indeed warranted.) Empirical evidence demonstrates that I am significantly happier than many of my more composed acquaintances.
This summer I became so confident in my ability to be happy when I'm by myself that I built a healthy habit of passing up relationships that promise to be anything less than mutually beneficial. I am proud and feel like telling the whole cyber-world. Girl power.
Speaking of girl power. I was recently convinced to join the board of a non-profit community bike shop. Jason is headed South for the winter, leaving behind three gray-haired old men and me to bicker in the cold. Today I contra-danced with an over-the-hill kook in an eighties t-shirt and last week I babysat for a Quaker meeting group that concluded with a children's activity that involved wearing diapers on our heads. I guess it takes a kook to know a kook.
What stood out about the weekend was staying at the house of the people who started the Responsible Endowments Coalition, a few twenty-somethings that I really admire for their bravery and diligence in founding the 'movement.' I saw that they are scattered and unfocused like me. They aren't necessarily machines of efficiency; they leave papers for the last minute in favor of making animals out of marzipan, Afro-Cuban dancing, and conversations about poop. Ryan's attic seemed to be an archeological testament to fleeting passions come and gone; Eurekas gone stale, like so many garages and basements tend to become...pottery wheels, scuba gear, bike parts, yerba mate pots, protest signs, herb gardens, harmonicas, Esperanto...successful people have also seen many dead-ends and failures. I often get down on myself for not being focused enough and think that if I could only choose one thing on which to spend my energy, I could make a dent. But varied interests truly do feed into one another to make you a more effective and whole person; it was so clear that Morgan's singing contributed to her confidence in communicating with others and her strength in the face of uncertainty. Someone flattered me by saying that our voices and mannerisms were similar, so I drooled over her mouth contortions for the rest of the weekend. Anyway, that's beside the point: Didn't Ben Franklin both help found the United States AND discover electricity? Wouldn't Thomas Edison's garage be even more shameful than my father's? I guess I just started to feel a lot better about the way that I live my life.
It is likewise enlightening to have friends who "have it together" to remind me that ducks in a row aren't necessarily what would make me happy. Sometimes I convince myself that if I could wake up on time, if I would do all of my reading, if I were skinny and wore nicer clothes, if I kept in touch with my Grandmother, if I practiced the banjo every day, if I had a boyfriend instead of romantic ambiguities, if I had a plan for after graduation--I would be more satisfied with life. NOT TRUE. (the capitals are indeed warranted.) Empirical evidence demonstrates that I am significantly happier than many of my more composed acquaintances.
This summer I became so confident in my ability to be happy when I'm by myself that I built a healthy habit of passing up relationships that promise to be anything less than mutually beneficial. I am proud and feel like telling the whole cyber-world. Girl power.
Speaking of girl power. I was recently convinced to join the board of a non-profit community bike shop. Jason is headed South for the winter, leaving behind three gray-haired old men and me to bicker in the cold. Today I contra-danced with an over-the-hill kook in an eighties t-shirt and last week I babysat for a Quaker meeting group that concluded with a children's activity that involved wearing diapers on our heads. I guess it takes a kook to know a kook.
posted by Sandy at 8:57 PM
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