Determined Practice

Photo credit: Brisbane Times

I have to get all Melburnian here and have a whinge about the whether. It has been so cold this week and the central gas heating at home has given up. Thankfully we have a little reverse cycle air conditioning unit in the family room/kitchen/family dining space providing some warmth but the other end of the house may as well be Mawson's hut... Weather like this makes me want to move back to Adelaide, just so that I can regain sensation in my toes.

Today was an odd day. I opened my emails and was greeted with a new comment on a post I made a couple of months ago that took me by surprise. That post was tough to write but I had something important to say so I took the time to construct it properly. 

Reading the comment felt like plunging into cold water; a fright at first but cleansing and refreshing after the initial shock had worn off. I'm glad that my post reached the eyes of someone who benefited from it and their anonymous response indicated that my message was received the manner in which it was intended, which gave me some kind of validation. 

I re-read the comment and post many times before responding to it. When I wrote that post I was constantly trying to imagine how my words would sound to someone directly impacted by behaviour as a kid. It was a very different experience re-reading it knowing that one of the people actually had read it. Usually when I give apologies, I think back later and wish I could change something of what I said. Looking back on my post, all I changed was a typo.

Apologising sincerely is hard but I'm proud of that post. Having someone respond to it  reminded me that my blog is not only a part of cyberspace but is very much a part of the "real world" too. Whilst the response did contain some criticism, I'm proud that I've done something to try and make amends for my actions in the past. My post may not be the perfect apology but I have tried my best. I don't think that is something everyone can say.

Having that apology as a blog post has turned out to be the best forum for it I could find. It is accessible to those who want to read it, even those who chose to end their personal contact with me, but it isn't being forced upon anyone who wants to leave the past in the past. I very much hope that anonymous commenter chooses to reconnect with me in some further way. If that person is who I think they are, I miss them tremendously. 

Respectful honesty is liberating in a way I could have never anticipated. I am sure there will be moments when I might wish I had not revealed details about myself on this blog but I think I am a better person for having some of my warts out there for the world to see.

One of my siblings has had a very tough day today. I was able to work some things through with them and was told that this had helped them. The other needed a lift home whilst Mum and Dad were out golfing. I really love being a big sister and I love it when I can be of use to my siblings. 

There was something else today that had me thinking about honest efforts and that's a video I watched about Jordyn Wieber. She is a gymnast from the United States whom I had the pleasure of seeing live in international competition a few years ago and could well be an Olympic champion in a few months time. The idea of "determined practicing" is something I've heard spoken about but not so succinctly articulated.

 

This post has been a somewhat haphazard collection of thoughts but I came across this quote that I think ties it all together perfectly:

"Knowing is better than wondering, waking is better than sleeping. Even the biggest failure, even the worst most intractable mistake beats the hell out of never trying."

Meredith Grey, Grey's Anatomy

Paramedics Week 8: survived

Two thirds of the regulation semester is now gone, leaving four weeks of classes before swot vac (study week before exams) and exams.

The first third of the course dragged on like I couldn't believe. I was so overwhelmed and exhausted that by the time I got to Sunday night, I'd usually cried twice in the week. The second third has been made easier by having my license and the routine has become a lot more familiar. Entering phase three, exams are already way too close for comfort already.

This week has been a slog. My enthusiasm levels have been low and whilst I've tried to really knuckle down on my work but the more I do, the more there seems to be. I've also found certain elements of uni administration to be less than thrilling this week. For example, I prepared a presentation to give in a tutorial only for the tutor to decide that he didn't want to hear from all the groups so my partner and I would not need to present. My slide show was pretty and I'd sound some really cool information and I was more than a little annoyed that I'd put it all together only to be told it wouldn't be required. 

Sure, I learned, but I could have learned all that information without wasting my time putting together a presentation especially given that it was not worth any marks.

Work has been a source of stress this week also.

My aim for the second third of the semester was more or less just not to give up. Now that I've come this far my strategy needs to change a little. The first thing I need to address is stress management. Sadly, the stress is not going anywhere for a while and I've eaten way too much chocolate this week in response and my exercise hasn't been at its usual level. In order to keep my energy levels even as possible, my number one priority needs to be healthy eating, exercise and getting enough sleep. 

Second priority is productivity. I'm trying to remind myself that I'll be kicking myself in 2 months time if I look back and think about all the time I spent on mucking around on Facebook or watching TV or whatever that I should have spent studying. 

Priority three is honesty. I have to be honest with myself in terms of my effort level and how much work I've done. I am equally capable of excessive self-criticism as well as convincing myself that I'm traveling alright when really I've been slacking off. 

I'm trying hard not to panic at the sheer volume of information I need to commit to memory. I haven't had to do this much rote learning ever and I'm intimidated by it. I have a practical assessment next that I am less than confident about. 

 I had a discussion this week with a wise friend who is a few years older than me regarding my future. I am starting to create something that might serve as a "light" for the end of this tumultuous tunnel I have found myself in. 

On a lighter note, in my practical class today I got to pretend to be an overbearing, panicking parent. I had a blast and had the class in stitches, channeling the plethora of skills that earned me dux of year 8 drama. Mum suggested over dinner, as a joke, that maybe I should transfer into a theatre course! 

Whilst there are many components of the course I am grappling with, my fellow students is not one of them. As much as I have been stressed, being around happy, friendly people does help a lot.

Considering a hat?

When considering a hat, one should always refer to the following chart:

The Fedora Flowchart - I don't know who created it, but I do know it's brilliant!

I hate fedoras with a passion. They look good on no one as I have already ranted about here. Step away from the unflattering, stupid, ugly hat. 

You could call it a milestone: my graduation

On Thursday night I had my graduation ceremony for my Bachelor of Arts. It was held at Robert Blackwood Hall at the scenic Monash Clayton Campus (those unfamiliar with Monash should note the sarcasm) on a surprisingly balmy evening. 

This photo is property of Monash University

Academic dress, the Monash University turquoise and the Faculty of Arts old rose (a colour known as pink to normal people)

The ceremony was at 8pm and the graduands were required to pick up their academic dress at 5.45pm. I was just in my trackies and planning to go home to get ready and change into all the gear. I was somewhat surprised to find that just about everyone else was there, all dressed up for graduation with their guests and waited around the campus for 2 hours before the ceremony. The staff who fitted me for my gown, silk hood and trencher hat (the hat with the tassel) were somewhat horrified that I was going to take it all home and dress myself. Shock, horror!

Robed up with my degree after graduating

There was something a little bit special about donning the academic dress, though I am a long time sucker for official uniforms. I remember wearing my first club competition leotard for gymnastics when I was little and I didn't want to take it off. Legitimacy and belonging, that's what the leotard gave me. Training in bike shorts and a t-shirt I felt like a kid doing gymnastics, wearing a competition leotard I felt like a gymnast representing my club. 

Finishing my last exams and assignments for Arts I still just felt like Eliza the bummy old Arts student. Wearing the gear and having the piece of paper in my hand did shift my perception of my Arts degree experience a little.

I'm not very good at being proud of myself. This makes my momentus occasions challenging for my parents, I suspect they are often hurt by my apathy toward things they wish I would enjoy or be proud of and wish they could celebrate with me not in spite of me.

Like many people, my internal voice is very self-critical. My internal voice seems objective, honest, unfeeling and unforgiving. The yard-stick of criticism I apply to myself is much harsher than the one I apply to others. As soon as I accomplish something I begin to think of all the reasons why it is not significant or something to be proud of. When I finished Arts, these were some of the thoughts in my head:

You should have finished with a better GPA

It's only an Arts degree, not a 'real' or difficult qualification that entailed 12 contact hours per week

How proud should one really be of attaining something that entailed 12 contact hours per week?

It's not like you did Honours, so what is there to celebrate?

You are capable of better, you didn't fulfill your full potential here so what is there to be proud of?

You still don't know what you're doing with your life so what was the point?

You didn't move out of home, get your licence, buy a car or have a significant relationship during your degree.

You have remarkable parents who provided you with just about every biological and social determinant for educational success. You haven't capitalised on those opportunities to anything like the best of your capabilities.

The way I think often isn't conducive for enjoying my own life. I have to try and get my silly head around the idea that just because I didn't break through the poverty cycle or overcome some horribly repressive social stigma or be awarded dux of my class at Oxford or Harvard or balance 2 jobs, 50 kids and a mortgage to finish my degree doesn't nullify my achievement. 

The person sitting next to me went to a very similar school to mine, has similar sounding living arrangements and parents in similar jobs and failed 4 subjects and got pretty horrendous grades over the course of his/her Arts degree. I don't pretend to know this person's full life story, but hearing their experience was a timely reminder that I perhaps shouldn't write myself off so swiftly. Maybe I should think about some other facts:

I finished my bachelor's degree at 20 years of age and completed it in minimum possible time.

I did what I had to do to stay on track despite a horror run of conflict, illness, injury and a death in my family.

I worked hard for a year and a half to revive my average after a bout of depression helped me dig a nasty hole in it. 

I finished with grades strong enough to be eligible for Honours.

I learned a lot and wrote some nice pieces of work.

I discovered a passion for a number of academic disciplines. 

I balanced uni, a part time job, music and sport.

I survived my first degree without any irreparable disasters (no tattoos that I'll come to regretted in the future, no drug or alcohol addiction, no unwanted pregnancies or sordid affairs with teachers)

Alex won the coin toss and elected to attend

I wasn't excited or proud to graduate but I enjoyed the experience. I do like it when my parents are proud of me, but I can't help but think that they should feel proud of themselves since they have worked so hard to give me the best chance of succeeding and supported me when I've been close to unlovable. There is also something a little special about the three of us having graduated from our first degrees on the same stage.

I was disappointed that Katie could not attend because Monash only allows graduands 3 guest tickets. Katie and Alex flipped a coin and Alex won so Katie stayed home.

The honorary graduand (guest speaker) was Don Burrows, a jazz musician who came across as a Dumbledore-esque eccentric grandfather type. He is a woodwind player who has played with jazz legends like Sarah Vaughan and Nat King Cole, he also does some very serious fly fishing. He made a really lovely speech about the joy of learning and living your passion.

I really loved what I was learning in my Arts degree and my graduation reminded me of a time only months ago when I was studying something I was truly passionate about. The speech did not relay any new information, but it was delivered with warmth and encouraged the audience of graduands and their friends and family to think about the role being passionate about your endeavours plays in your happiness. 

I need to keep in mind that whilst at any time I tend to focus on those I see as having done better, I need to be more mindful that in most situations there are more folk who have done worse or are worse off than me who would happily trade places. However, I think it is about time that I had the maturity to really commit to better fulfilling my potential and challenged myself to achieve something that I would feel wholeheartedly proud of.

The next time I achieve I milestone I will celebrate it properly. Celebrating myself makes me feel so uncomfortable that I lose sight of the fact that it's not just about me, it is about having a good time with people like my family who want to feel included in my life. I am also aware that having a low self-worth is not very becoming on a person. Most of the time I think I do value myself, but how much can I really value myself if I never think anything I do is worth celebrating? I need to think differently.