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A bunch of rewatches, which I mentioned in that vacation post.
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The last three Indiana Jones movies. As with many things, I was late getting on that particular train. Those iconic adventure movies are pretty great, though, even when they make me howl with laughter over the leaps in logic and unintentional bits of hilarity. Indy, please explain to me how you and your crew managed to float down not one, not two, but THREE successive waterfalls without losing each other in the current or, excuse me, killing yourselves. While I’m asking questions, here’s one for Spielberg and Lucas: what possessed you to mix aliens into the fourth movie? But I digress. I did quite enjoy the Indiana Jones films. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is probably my favorite.
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Rewatched Mockingjay: Part 1 with my brother, and remembered exactly why I can’t wait for the final Hunger Games installment.
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Rewatched Teen Beach Movie with my sisters, Mom, and honorary aunt. It was a girly night, okay?
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Because my littlest sis went off to camp for a week, us three oldest had the leisure of watching a number of older-audience movies. (Who am I kidding, we needed a diversion from all the tears cried over Kitty’s absence.) So we watched The Amazing Spiderman, Thor: The Dark World, and then we gals watched Pride and Prejudice.
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Finished the first season of Once Upon a Time. I can’t say anything more here, otherwise it might swallow up this entire post, and it’s supposed to be a balanced summary, not a TV show review. (But my poor heart . . .)
I think I’ve figured out why the young are always admonished to dream big, or to keep dreaming.
It’s because dreaming can be so incredibly hard.
I graduated from high school in 2014. Being homeschooled, I had the opportunity to plan my own grad ceremony. My family and I rented a spot in a local church. Friends and relatives showed up to wish me well. And there were speeches made my parents, my three grandmothers, and my brother. Bet you can guess a common theme, right?
They offered golden nuggets of advice for living well and following Jesus, of course. But time and again, it came back to the topic of dreams. Aspirations for the future. Choosing where to stake your tent. Never giving up. Always looking ahead. Dreaming big dreams, holding on to hope for great things.
We hear it everywhere. Disney creates sugary tales of underdogs who, with just the right amount of goodness and a little help from magic, achieve their dreams with a “Bippity, boppity, boo!” Songwriters encourage us to reach for the stars. People tell us we can be anything we want, do anything we set our minds to.
All well and good. But there’s more to dreaming. And I think maybe we forget that there’s more, because the next part is harder to swallow.
There’s this thing called perseverance. There’s another thing called stick-to-itiveness. There are ingredients we must add called patience, humility, and a willingness to learn (so that we can actually handle our dreams coming true).
Because some days, dreaming is downright hard. When everything in your world looks exactly the same as it did a year ago, or five years ago, it’s hard to believe things will ever change. When you fall down again and again–when the mountain you were climbing ends up being far, far higher than you imagined at the start–it’s oh so tempting to give up. It’s tempting to let the dream die, because it hurts to hold onto it.
My dad recently described me as being “a bulldog with lipstick.” When I fix my mind on something, I don’t let go. I clamp my jaws around it and refuse to let anyone tug it from my grasp–not Time, not Challenges, not Discouragement. I would be lying if I said that wasn’t hard sometimes. It is. Some days I couldn’t even tell you why I do it. But I know it will be worth it one day. I’ve come too far to give up now. So on I go.
Something I’ve had to learn–no, a truth that splashed me in the face like a bucket of cold water (which was the only way I’d find the humility to accept it), was that small beginnings are okay. I grew up fashioning grandiose dreams, under the delusion that they would just happen, and that they would happen in large proportions.
Now I’m realizing that great things start small.
I’m realizing that though I long for the battlefield, I have been despising the training ground, and how unwise is that? If I ran into battle without an idea of how to swing a sword, I’d be dead in moments.
I’m realizing that to be faithful in the little things will one day result in bigger things coming my way.
I’m realizing that I’m most certainly not above doing the menial and the mundane.
It’s these sandpaper days that smooth my rough edges. It’s these long hours of doing things that aren’t what I’ve set in my heart to do, that are preparing me for those very dreams.
There are waiting rooms in life. There are training arenas. Embrace them. Five loaves and two fish will become a feast. A tiny seed will turn into a massive tree. Small beginnings, dear one–don’t despise them. Somewhere down the road, you’ll look back on those little days and smile, for the wisdom and beauty woven into them will finally be visible.
“I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble.” -Helen Keller
Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin . . . (Zechariah 4:10a)
I put off doing this month’s Beautiful People (which is friendship themed) for a while because I just didn’t know which companions to feature. Luci and Aleida came to mind, but that would be somewhat repetitive in light of last month’s BP post. Then there’s Luci and Hadrian, but they’re a romantic pair. And, erm, she doesn’t really have any friends beyond those two people. So I crossed Sleeping Beauty characters off my list of candidates, and settled on the obvious choice.
You may have seen their names floating around here before: Aileen McKay and Josiah Williams, the main characters of that fantasy series spoken of in vague terms on my Writings page above. I’ve spent so much time with them, they’ve almost become real in my mind. Answering these questions will be fairly easy!
Before we continue, if you’re new to the wonderfulness of Beautiful People, you can find out more from the hosts, Skye and Cait. Now: onward!
1. How long have they known each other, and how close are they?
Only a matter of weeks (although for me, they’ve technically known each other for seven years). Yet in those few weeks, they form a bond stronger than most. Death-defying experiences tend to encourage such bonds, you know.
2. What’s their earliest memory of being best friends?
They were distant acquaintances for a long time–knowing names and faces, passing each other in the halls at school–but the whole best friend thing is quite recent. Their first real connection was when they started talking about the disturbing visions they were both experiencing. Shaken by their most horrible waking dreams yet, they found empathy in each other.
“You mean you’ve been having dreams too?” Aileen gave
a wobbly smile. “I wondered, especially since you were researching dreams in
the library.” The smile disappeared. “Does that mean you had a dream like mine?
About your family?”
Josiah crossed his arms in an effort to ward off the
cold, both inside and out. “Yes.” In as few words as possible, he outlined the
visions of the past few days, right up until the end of the latest one. As he
finished, his eyes welled with tears again. Something conclusive needed to be
said now, something comforting, but no suitable words came to mind. So instead,
he pulled Aileen into a hug—the kind of embrace between friends who have borne
the same miseries. They stood there shivering, Aileen’s head resting against
his shoulder while snow swirled around.
3. Do they fight? How long do they typically fight for?
So far, they’ve fought only once, but it was a doozy and lasted for days. Let’s just say they could have avoided some very bad things if they’d only been more open with each other. *coughs to hide evil author laugh*
4. Are their personalities similar or do they complement each other?
Josiah is more outgoing, whereas Aileen tends to be introverted. He makes snap decisions; she thinks things over, too much sometimes. Both feel very deeply. As for negative emotions, Aileen releases tiny amounts of pressure through biting, sarcastic remarks (which don’t prevent the inevitable explosion later on), and Josiah processes them as they arise. Depending on what’s going on, that process will either be verbal or else shown through body language.
I would say they complement each other . . . which is sometimes code for “they clash.” Most of the time they mesh well, though.
5. Who is the leader of their friendship (if anyone)?
Josiah definitely is. Or at least, he leads in action. Aileen may lead more in the emotional sphere. She was the one that instigated their first connection, and she’ll often be the one to bring up deep or difficult topics.
6. Do they have any secrets from each other?
Naturally–they haven’t known each other long enough to know everything. But do they keep intentional secrets? Well, considering that open communication is pretty vital to staying alive in another world, no. Except for that time when tension drove them apart (see question 3).
7. How well do they know each other’s quirks and habits?
What they do know, they know quite well. But it’s hard to pick up on all of someone’s quirks when they’ve been transformed into a dragon! Facial expressions just aren’t the same, you understand. As for verbal mannerisms and other such things, I’d say they’ve got a pretty good idea of what to expect from each other.
8. What kind of things do they like to do together?
Save multiple worlds. Fly around in dragon form. Train together. Fight together. Go off on epic quests together. When life returns to normal, however, they enjoy having long talks, being in the woods outside of town, and wondering when the next adventure will turn up.
9. Describe each character’s fashion style (use pictures if you’d like!). How are their styles different/similar?
In a few words . . .
Josiah: functional and comfortable. Tees and jeans will do the trick.
Not quite how I envision him, so ignore the face. (Although the hair color is pretty close…) |
Aileen: artsy in a casual, somewhat vintage way. Maybe a scarf or cute ankle boots added to a basic outfit.
Again, this picture is here only because of the clothes, but this one’s a wee bit closer to how I imagine Aileen. Oh, oh–except her eyes should be brown. (Finding good charrie pictures is so HARD.) |
Dear Perfectionist,
I have something to tell you, and by extension, something to tell myself. You have many faces and many forms, and so I write this to:
- the neat-freak who cannot stand a molecule of dust out of place
- the perfectionist in disguise whose desk is in chaos but whose personal standards are sky high
- the one who puts in countless hours in an effort to achieve the perfect ____ (fill in the blank: musical skill, writing abilities, sports performance, test scores, etc.)
- the one who expects everyone else to hold the same high standards
- the one who extends grace to everyone but themselves
- and the one who’s given up because they’ve failed too many times
You are a slave. You are chained to an ideal, a cruel master impossible to please. Day after day you strive to reach perfection. Or maybe you don’t even call it that. Maybe in your mind, Perfect is known as Better. Whatever its name, you chase it relentlessly, but somehow it always eludes you.
You likely don’t chase it in every area of life. Maybe you seek it in performance, but you’re perfectly all right with a messy room. Maybe you seek it in your outer world–everything in its place–but less so in your inner world, where you give yourself room for mistakes. And quite likely it’s an even more intricate paradox than that–your bookshelf might be organized alphabetically but your closet looks like a tornado hit it. You may hold strictly to an academic standard, yet not so much in physical fitness. There are infinite combinations, but if this letter is to you, there is at least one area in which you are enslaved.
Can I tell you something? I’m a perfectionist in disguise. My room is sometimes a group of little contained messes, with semi-organized piles of papers and books and things that belong together in some abstract way that only makes sense to me.
I think it should be cleaner.
When I sit down to write, I’m mostly okay with clumsy sentences, scrambled plots, and misbehaving characters in a first draft.
But I think I should write more, or faster.
Do I chase a state of perfection? Maybe. I don’t know. But I do know I chase progress. Because progress means movement towards perfection, or if not that, betterment. If I wake up intending to get some good writing done, and I go to bed at night having written nothing because life got in the way, I don’t like it. If I look at an area of my life and see no growth, it bothers me. Am I growing spiritually? Am I progressing as a writer? Am I getting better at my job? Are my relationships doing well? If the answer is ever no, that must mean “try harder.”
Those are the chains I struggle to break. Yours may look different.
This slavery is sneaky. It’s not constant misery. Sometimes you do achieve something you’re happy with (at least somewhat), and so there’s a measure of success, of satisfaction. It’s a carrot dangling in front of your nose, a taste of the glory you’ll feel when you finally reach that perfection in full. But when you stumble, your own whip comes whistling down to tear your back.
You could have done better.
You should have done more.
You shouldn’t have said that.
You failed.
Bleeding, you drag yourself up and try again. The worst part about this enslavement is that most of the time, you’re not aware. You don’t realize you hold the whip; you don’t know you’re bleeding out. You have moments of self-awareness, but those usually end up in more lashes, because goodness knows you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. (And down comes the whip again.)
What drives you? Why do you so badly desire that perfection? Do you know?
Like so many other things, the answer is rooted in fear.
Fear of failure, of rejection, of not being loved. Because if you’re good enough, they’ll love you, right? If you press on and work harder, do better, they’ll accept you. You’ll have a place in the ranks. You’ll mean something. You’ll be worthy.
If you do better, God will love you.
Is that the lie you’ve believed? Because trust me, though your mind may balk and say, “I know that’s not true, I know God loves me no matter what,” your heart might tell a different story. Mine has. And trust me when I say that your heart can hold so tightly to that belief, that it thickens and tightens and wraps a chain around your neck. And for the longest time, I had no idea that iron grip was there.
Breaking those bonds takes a journey. It’s a process of discarding the old and knowing the truth that sets you free. I wish the English language had another word for know. The kind I mean isn’t with your head–it’s with your heart. You may mentally acknowledge that you are loved, but do you know it? Do you completely and utterly believe it, to the point that you act like it? Is that truth so rooted in you that any word to the contrary can’t penetrate your heart because you know how very wrong it is?
If you’ve never heard it before, or if you’ve heard it a thousand times with deaf ears, listen now.
You. Are. Loved.
Did you know that if you stopped trying, if you let it all go to pot and let your life fall into shambles, that fact would not change one iota? I know you can hardly wrap your brain around that idea, so try instead to wrap your heart around it. Shut your brain up for just a moment. If you never did another thing for God or for anyone else, He would still love you just as much as He does right now. Your value to Him would remain unchanged. Can you see that? Can you start to?
Once you’re grounded in love, perfection isn’t necessary. Instead, you can strive for something much better: excellence. Do the best you can with what you have, and leave it at that. Keep going, keep improving–to stop is to stagnate–but don’t ever attach the pursuit to your identity. Give yourself grace. God does.
With love from:
A Recovering Perfectionist A Person of Excellence