Do Your Words Match Your Actions?
Untitled, But Not in a Pretentious Way is a SoulPancake Exclusive by Elizabeth Alinikoff
Simple New Year’s resolutions are usually my nemeses. I wasn’t part of the 2012 motivational status update group. My wardrobe did not incorporate any new trends. Unfortunately a gym membership did not happen. (Note: The gym aversion is partly because I’m lazy, and partly because I find the concept of hanging out in a room, sweating in place - surrounded by mirrors and machines- to be a weird scenario, and partly because I don’t take my health seriously.) Even the promise to ‘wear more skirts’ would have done great things for my social life. However right now wearing anything but waterproof burlap is dishonest and vain. Maybe I can motivate myself to ‘wear more belted blankets’. I’ll attach a pillow as my hood.
Though I would have greatly benefited from all these plans, I have difficulty with their simplicity. Things meant to unfold in normal logical sequence usually become complicated and exhausting. I easily lose focus of small steps and shoot straight for overarching, end-of-the-world themes and axis altering challenges. Perhaps it’s because I have tricked myself into believing I am OK with chaos, that I work best amongst the mess, and smells, and neediness. After all, it is in these situations where I thrive (or at least I say I do). My self-expression seems to illustrate this perfectly. Over time I’ve developed a guts first process of communication and analyzation. Verbal rants are laced with snarky outbursts, loaded stares, and too many expletives. And although I’m all for acceptance, it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more manageable, less jagged and more appropriate for my 6-year-old nephew.
For the New Year I decided to do some clean up, starting with the biggest source of clutter…my language. Specifically: my use of profanity. And by ‘use’ I mean abuse. Unless poor habits can deliver a reality show and fragrance line, they aren’t doing me any favors. I thought it a good idea to better understand the relationship between my words and actions - especially if I insist on muttering “F*ck my life” throughout the day. I also may want to consider a more eloquent simile than, “This place smells like a sack of balls.” Feeling for my poor hypothetical children, I decided to forego swearing, and see what happened.
Per usual, things unraveled right on schedule. By 9am, the forbidden mantra flared up right in time for the Monday meeting. My tea melted my face. Sh*t! I should have paid better attention in remedial algebra. Mother F*&$@#!! Google is not googling. WHAT THE F*&#@! A hand web paper cut. $%*#@!!! $*&%#@!!! It wasn’t even lunchtime and I had already gone beyond a reasonable quota. Defeated but more embarrassed, I fell silent for the rest of my time at work, and was mute for the day after.
Don’t get me wrong, swearing can be warranted (and is of course enjoyable), but it was evident my self-control was completely lost. I was not only disappointed in my inability to filter words, I was angry that remedial algebra had got the best of me. How was this language from an Anne of Avonlea obsessed 30 year old? Marilla would have nothing to do with me.
I was confused as to who I had become. My projection and actual self weren’t matching up. Who is that poorly socialized smutty pirate? Oh, that’s just my older sister. Babies adore her. My communication skills (which I had previously been a fan of) seemed to be coated in a fair amount of frivolity. This of course scared the poop out of me, since I had never before thought of myself as frivolous…or oblivious.
Are your words in agreement with your inner-self? How are they related to your actions?
