sticking to it

If only the high almighty, that is the omniscient, ever-present creator and judge, may have given me only but a mustard seed of inclination towards discipline, I would have been among the greats - Alexander the Great, Cyrus the Great, Constantine the Great, Catherine the Great, Alfred the Great, Frederick the Great, Peter the Great... But, the high almighty did not care to bless me. Piece of unholy shit. But he did bless my younger sister, and I was jealous. Only for some time. Until I was 10... or 11, not too old... I admired the way that she would put herself to bed at 9:30, do her homework before being told, and work on her dancing because she truly enjoyed it. It was amazing, and I knew that I didn't have that type of innate discipline. Or maybe hers wasn't innate, and she aspired for something long ago that gave her the motivation to do what she needed to do. I don't know. Still impressive nonetheless.

I saw her dance recital a couple of weeks ago, and I was so impressed. Her presence and charisma was notable and definitive. The space was hers. She looked graceful and lovely, even though the movements were undeniably uncomfortable for my body to think about. I was proud, astonished, and speechless. I had to get the photos! I hope you can see the skill and passion that spills over onto this page from her charisma. The pay-off from all of her hard work all of these years made itself known to me in the recital hall. This magnitude of greatness...

It gave me a lot to ponder for myself. Do I have something that I want to dedicate my life to? I don't. Do I have the discipline? Oh hell no. Can I work on those things? Absolutely! But, it's been a hard journey, and I struggle a lot with finding direction in my own life. Where do I go? I want to go everywhere. What do I choose? I choose everything. Ok, maybe choose one thing? I'll try, but something else will catch my attention. Wishy-washy. Why can't I decide on something? Because choices lead to consequences. I get sick to my stomach knowing that I made the wrong choice. I throw up often from the mere thought of disappointing myself, and my gut wrenches at the possibility of disappointing someone else. I am certainly afraid of consequences. Not making a choice is also a choice, but at least you can gaslight yourself and say that those consequences are unwarranted. I can't lie to myself any longer, that's a choice. Staying up and writing the blog, that's a choice. Working on my discipline, that's a choice. I hope these choices benefit me in the long run. I hope the consequences are worth it.

But I am done thinking for right now. Look at my sister.

A random memory has popped into my head as I think about us some more.

When she was in preschool, she was given an assignment to write a book about herself. I had to make one as well so I knew what to expect. But one day on the playground, the preschool teacher bee-lined up to me right before recess ended. She wanted me to look at Sophia's book, and on a page there was a basic list of things to introduce yourself with like "what is my favorite color," "what is my favorite subject in school," "what do I want to be when I grow up"... That last question was answered with something I could have never expected: Big like Bella.

I was so happy and excited. I can't describe how I felt then. I tear up now when I think of it. I tear up because I am still so honored after so many years. I tear up because I know that I am not who I want to be at this moment.

I wish to become the person that she saw - big and great. Someone to admire. Maybe just a bit taller, I guess. A good example, hopefully. I haven't lived up to my expectations of what I should have been for her. I am sorry. But, I can't wallow in my own lack of discipline. I have to work hard on this skill that I have no proclivity to. So for now, I am grateful to look up to my younger sister and see that she has made herself someone greater than she first aspired to be.

Thank you.