SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21). The wind is invisible, but its strength changes the landscape. You love with a power that is stronger than the wind, and the force of your feelings will move people.
I can be pretty thorny, tough to pin down. If you know me well, we have probably had some sort of battle sparked somehow by my seeming nonchalance about our relationship and its sustainability. You have probably stood by, biting your lip as you watch what is most certainly my back retreating from you forever. I don't consider myself an easy person to stay friends with; historically it has been like pulling teeth to get me to schedule a phone date or write a letter.
This week, on Monday evening, I suddenly fell violently ill. I was curled into a ball for a lot of the evening in response to awful head and stomach pain; I was getting increasingly delirious as the night wore on; by 9:00 I couldn't stand up straight without throwing up.
And of course, there was my family standing by, watching for their opportunity to swoop in and take care of me. They took turns knocking on the bathroom door and asking if I needed anything, despite my inevitable snap in response; my dad gave me a head massage; my mom gave me a wet washcloth for my face; my doctor-grandfather suggested a series of painkillers and, when I refused each and every one of them, he suggested my family pray over me. Which they did, and which, despite my convinced heathenism, actually made me feel the tiniest bit better.
But despite all of this attention, I was convinced that I was too gross and mean for anyone to actually want me around, and refused many offers to drive me home until it became clear, an hour or so later, that I wasn't going anywhere if I didn't let someone else drive me there.
Like I said, I can be incredibly difficult.
I've written about this before. One of my most personally groundbreaking posts, written almost a year ago, was about freely giving and receiving open-handed love. Well worth a re-read.
I've made progress since this post, but I still don't really get it. I have felt pretty selfish at a lot of points throughout these years since college, where arguably everyone is a little selfish; but it gets thrown into a different light out here when I'm not surrounded by other hormonal college students absorbed in hacking out our own paths.
Let's be clear: I'm still working on hacking out my own path. I don't foresee that ever really changing, so I've struggled a little with how to balance taking care of the needs of others while keeping my own feet steady underneath me.
J., my parents, even my roommates, seem to be constantly giving me things, giving me time, gifts, cards, emotional support; they help me out of situations and are very often willing to work with me to find solutions to problems I'm having, or to work around my schedule. My friends from far away will schedule phone dates with me, send me letters and packages, text me to say something reminded them of me.
In comparison, I feel cold, uninvested, unhelpful.
I mentioned this to a couple of college friends at a bar in New York City a few months back, that I feel unbalanced in my social exchange with the people around me. First, I said, I hate how much I got hooked on social exchange in Sociological Theory sophomore year. Social exchange theory explains social interactions in terms of balancing equations, equal trades. It creates a system based on people in relationships owing each other.
Now that's cold.
My friends looked at me curiously, and after awhile K. spoke up. "That's interesting that you feel that way," she said, "because I've gotten a LOT of mail from you since moving to New York. You're always sending me new granola because I told you that one time it's my favorite comfort food, and I've seen you pretty often... And you just told me I'm starred on your Facebook!"
Indeed I had. In fact both of these friends are starred as "close friends" on my Facebook page, which means I get a notification whenever they do just about anything on Facebook. It sounds a little creepy, but fortunately both of them were flattered to find this out. Even if I don't comment or like everything they post, I see everything. Just the fact that I've opted in to staying up to date on their lives, they said, shows that I care about them.
Which is true. I think about the people that have been a part of my life, and a part of who I am, every single day. I miss you guys. I can't turn off my radar for reminders of the people I love, even if I wanted to. And you can bet that these reminders are constant. It's just that I am forward-facing to a fault, and I'm fidgety and I get anxious if I ever start to feel stuck in place, in time.
This, in a nutshell, is why I identify so strongly and stubbornly as a Sagittarian: I am intense, restless, passionate. The horoscope I started this post with (from Friday) gave me the chills, because I know how true it is. Some time back it occurred to me, and I completely latched onto the idea, that I love fiercely. I don't always play nice and I don't sit still for very long (literally and figuratively), but I stick to things, and even more so things stick to me. Once you have me hooked you have your little lovely barbs in my heart for a long time. You're starred in my eyes.
This week, on Monday evening, I suddenly fell violently ill. I was curled into a ball for a lot of the evening in response to awful head and stomach pain; I was getting increasingly delirious as the night wore on; by 9:00 I couldn't stand up straight without throwing up.
And of course, there was my family standing by, watching for their opportunity to swoop in and take care of me. They took turns knocking on the bathroom door and asking if I needed anything, despite my inevitable snap in response; my dad gave me a head massage; my mom gave me a wet washcloth for my face; my doctor-grandfather suggested a series of painkillers and, when I refused each and every one of them, he suggested my family pray over me. Which they did, and which, despite my convinced heathenism, actually made me feel the tiniest bit better.
But despite all of this attention, I was convinced that I was too gross and mean for anyone to actually want me around, and refused many offers to drive me home until it became clear, an hour or so later, that I wasn't going anywhere if I didn't let someone else drive me there.
Like I said, I can be incredibly difficult.
I've written about this before. One of my most personally groundbreaking posts, written almost a year ago, was about freely giving and receiving open-handed love. Well worth a re-read.
I've made progress since this post, but I still don't really get it. I have felt pretty selfish at a lot of points throughout these years since college, where arguably everyone is a little selfish; but it gets thrown into a different light out here when I'm not surrounded by other hormonal college students absorbed in hacking out our own paths.
Let's be clear: I'm still working on hacking out my own path. I don't foresee that ever really changing, so I've struggled a little with how to balance taking care of the needs of others while keeping my own feet steady underneath me.
J., my parents, even my roommates, seem to be constantly giving me things, giving me time, gifts, cards, emotional support; they help me out of situations and are very often willing to work with me to find solutions to problems I'm having, or to work around my schedule. My friends from far away will schedule phone dates with me, send me letters and packages, text me to say something reminded them of me.
In comparison, I feel cold, uninvested, unhelpful.
I mentioned this to a couple of college friends at a bar in New York City a few months back, that I feel unbalanced in my social exchange with the people around me. First, I said, I hate how much I got hooked on social exchange in Sociological Theory sophomore year. Social exchange theory explains social interactions in terms of balancing equations, equal trades. It creates a system based on people in relationships owing each other.
Now that's cold.
My friends looked at me curiously, and after awhile K. spoke up. "That's interesting that you feel that way," she said, "because I've gotten a LOT of mail from you since moving to New York. You're always sending me new granola because I told you that one time it's my favorite comfort food, and I've seen you pretty often... And you just told me I'm starred on your Facebook!"
Indeed I had. In fact both of these friends are starred as "close friends" on my Facebook page, which means I get a notification whenever they do just about anything on Facebook. It sounds a little creepy, but fortunately both of them were flattered to find this out. Even if I don't comment or like everything they post, I see everything. Just the fact that I've opted in to staying up to date on their lives, they said, shows that I care about them.
Which is true. I think about the people that have been a part of my life, and a part of who I am, every single day. I miss you guys. I can't turn off my radar for reminders of the people I love, even if I wanted to. And you can bet that these reminders are constant. It's just that I am forward-facing to a fault, and I'm fidgety and I get anxious if I ever start to feel stuck in place, in time.
This, in a nutshell, is why I identify so strongly and stubbornly as a Sagittarian: I am intense, restless, passionate. The horoscope I started this post with (from Friday) gave me the chills, because I know how true it is. Some time back it occurred to me, and I completely latched onto the idea, that I love fiercely. I don't always play nice and I don't sit still for very long (literally and figuratively), but I stick to things, and even more so things stick to me. Once you have me hooked you have your little lovely barbs in my heart for a long time. You're starred in my eyes.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21). The wind is invisible, but its strength changes the landscape. You love with a power that is stronger than the wind, and the force of your feelings will move people.
No comments:
Post a Comment