I’ve experienced a lot of cognitive dissonance since I went out into the work world. I’m not wholly certain as to why I’ve had such difficulties resolving who I am to the type of work I get paid for, or indeed, to the world around me… but that, in fact, has defined the way I’ve carved out my life so far.
I don’t want to go into too much detail (you never know who’s watching – or, indeed, judging), but I did want to touch upon this topic in a reflective manner. I’ve spent the past year on a fervent journey to “figure it all out”. I suppose this was facilitated by my having found my the one whom I am certain of, the one to whom I knew beyond a doubt that committing to will always be worth the risks involved in letting someone into this oh-so-fragile heart. The old Maslow’s hierarchy theory that once you have your base needs taken care of, you can find love, and once you have love, you can then proceed into the world of determining who you are, obtaining self-confidence, essentially – blooming into your life.
I felt that I had finally “arrived” to the levels of safety and love, and took on this journey of self-discovery full-force, because I was so tired of feeling left behind. And now I’ve come so close to what I feel is my core truth – I can glimpse it… now, after shedding years of societal expectation and pressure, do I finally realise I must pursue what I have always identified with at my core, so that the cognitive dissonance can end. For I am a writer, self-ascribed when I was filling out the “about me” book that my mother got for me when I was a baby, to help define my life – when I so sagely knew, at the tender age of 6, that I was to be a writer – nay, that I was a writer. Am a writer.
But let’s take that further. Sure, I’ve always written. Always had some instrument within which to pour my thoughts, a silent, non-judgemental confessor to whom to absolve myself and explore the boundaries of my inner world and imagination. But writing has, at its core, something else – a deeper truth: that of creation. For, when I think about it, I’m not just a writer – I’m a creator. I’m happiest when I’m creating things – when I’m baking something healthy out of a recipe I’ve modified to make my own; when I’m knitting a new project; when I’m modeling the stuff I’ve just finished knitting for photography; when I’m traveling somewhere new and writing about my experiences; when I’m designing a site, a logo or mobile app for a project that is completely, 100% my own. In short, I am happiest, at my best, producing my best work, when I am working on a project of my own choosing and design – NOT when I am working on anything that must please someone else. In fact, working on stuff that must please someone else is the source of the greatest discomfort in my life (yes, first world problems – not a big deal, I know, but I ask you to put aside your judgement of me while I explore this thought process). It creates such discomfort, in fact, that it prevents me from fully being present in any job I am hired for. I am nervous; I find it difficult to connect with my coworkers; I am snappy and easily irritated when said people-I-must-please aren’t pleased: all of this leads to the conclusion that in any given creative job situation, I am a self-saboteur – and this happens because at my core, I know that I should not be here, doing this, getting paid for this, because it’s not who I am. And I simply cannot tell a lie. It’s not in my nature. In fact, doing so goes against my nature, as much as being my honest self would displease many, and fuel anger, resentment and judgement from those many.
Which brings me to my next point – I must now commit to this acknowledgement of my deeply buried artistic, creative self, in such a way that does not impose upon me the burden of attempting to please others through my creativity. In fact, I don’t want to say I will never hold another job again, but perhaps I should reserve my working hours for a job that is more removed from the creative process, so that after hours, I may go home and fully commit my undrained inner self to my creations. I must stop taking client work; I must instead focus on producing the projects that bring me joy, and the money will follow after. I would rather be happy and untethered in my life, than to feel as a slave to someone else’s dream, making someone else rich by trying to force my gift upon them in a cold, unwelcoming environment, when my gift is not particularly suited to that sort of burden.
In fact, by focusing on the projects that I hold dear, I have the opportunity to give back to the world in a much more positive way than I have been able to do so up until now. When I thought I wanted to be a web designer for clients, I was wrong. I merely pursued that line of work because, as a fully independent woman, I knew I had to support myself monetarily – and such a self-appointed position would (it seemed, back then) require the least amount of exposure to people. Perhaps this is also part of why creating for myself makes me happy, but I’ve always had difficulty navigating the world in the face of other people; being my honest and true self in the face of the expectations, egos and desires of everyone else around me. I can now face all of that with the clear confidence of knowing, firmly, beyond a doubt – I am an artist, and pursuant to that – I have something to offer. I can look into the faces of those staring at me in disbelief, or those who may jealously judge me because I know myself and have the confidence to pursue my dreams, when they themselves never recognised their own talents or followed what they wanted to do, and no longer falter beneath their piercing glares.
I believe I have earned this, through the emotionally tumultuous, difficult years I’ve experienced up until now. In fact, my journey of self-discovery and self-actualisation did not begin only one year ago – it began when I was a teenager, when I had my first jobs and had to evaluate what I wanted to do to make money. I have learnt so, so much in the years since then – through pain and joy, accomplishments and failures. I may not always be perfect, I may make egregious mistakes, but I am human. Those with the capacity to forgive and for compassion, who understand that a person is malleable, ever-changing, growing and evolving, rather than static and stagnant, have remained in my life – and the bitter, disturbed, sociopathic or psychotic people who simply do not have the capacity for compassion, nor the ability for understanding have passed on, making their mark but cutting off all ties after having done so. It can be difficult at times to justify those relationships that ended badly, but it’s always clear to me in the end – we simply weren’t a match. I’m not certain why those people often had such a hard time understanding this concept – that some people simply just do not, and will not ever, get along with one another, for whatever reasons of societal, cultural and personal expectations and pressures that exist in the two opposing people’s lives – rather than trying to force a relationship that clearly wasn’t meant to happen. But, I digress. They are simply lost, and that’s fine with me. It was nobody’s fault, at least as far as I’m concerned. We’re all just trying to find our ways in the world, right?
And on that note, I think I can finally, confidently say, I’m starting to find mine.
Recently, I was informed that local honey has the potential to help you overcome seasonal allergies. As a sufferer of seasonal allergies for the past 10 years or so, I’ve tried a number of things to battle the regular onslaught of itchy eyes and nose, constant sneezing, eye watering and scratchy throat at the beginning and end of every summer. I’ve found the body has a tendency to acclimatize to over-the-counter drugs, rendering them far less effective the more you use them, and that they also tend to dry me out to a point of discomfort close to not having taken the pills at all. But as a fallback, every year, I turn to a combined attack of Aerius, and the Shoppers Drug Mart discount brand, Life Brand, moisturising nasal spray (to help with the dryness, more than clearing out the nasal passages) backed up by their basic nasal decongestant pill, when my nose is really stuffed up. But again, this all creates a very dry inner environment that I find myself chugging water constantly to clear out, and isn’t exactly optimal. Not to mention the probable taxation on the liver.
I set this up mainly because if I were to buy all the beautiful clothes I admire… well, let’s just leave it at, I can’t. It’s not a choice. So, I admire… and share. Enjoy!
About Knitravel