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ljwritesEver get the feeling that you're really weird? Looking through other people's Facebook feeds leaves me feeling like the biggest freak in the world, like they have this whole world of grown-up real-life stuff while all I can think about is work and writing, specifically how to get the maximum amount of work done in the shortest amount of time so I can write, edit, and research.
While other people are posting about restaurants, careers, and wine, I'm obsessed about the implications of the bear as a water spirit in ancient Korea and how mythological symbolism might show up in the etymology of ancient place names. And Mongolian horse breeders left behind in Jeju Island in the 15th century after the great Mongol empire's influence had receded from Korea. Where and what I eat or do while thinking about these matters is just housekeeping.
I heard somewhere that people don't change but grow into more of themselves, and that seems to hold true for me. It's right back to middle school when I was reading Merriam-Webster's and writing down the etymologies of words that sounded pretty to me. This notebook has since grown to a 800-item text file. It now occurs to me--hindsight!--that this fascination might have been leveraged into the makings of a linguist, but who cared when I could become a lawyer? No one, certainly not me at the time.
I had the same confusion back then, my head buried in Lord of the Rings and Ivanhoe, that everyone around me was living in a world that I couldn't understand but should not only join but thrive in. I kept up that appearance as long as academic success was all that mattered, then started crashing badly once I went away to college and things like initiative and ambition became indispensable. I could bend myself out of shape for only so long, it turned out, before I started to break.
Self-acceptance is only marginally easier now than it was twenty years ago. At least I'm mature enough to admit what truly gives me joy. I still struggle with accepting that it's okay to take joy from what I do. And I wrestle with the fear, of course, the ever-present fear of failure, of commitment, of not being good enough.
While other people are posting about restaurants, careers, and wine, I'm obsessed about the implications of the bear as a water spirit in ancient Korea and how mythological symbolism might show up in the etymology of ancient place names. And Mongolian horse breeders left behind in Jeju Island in the 15th century after the great Mongol empire's influence had receded from Korea. Where and what I eat or do while thinking about these matters is just housekeeping.
I heard somewhere that people don't change but grow into more of themselves, and that seems to hold true for me. It's right back to middle school when I was reading Merriam-Webster's and writing down the etymologies of words that sounded pretty to me. This notebook has since grown to a 800-item text file. It now occurs to me--hindsight!--that this fascination might have been leveraged into the makings of a linguist, but who cared when I could become a lawyer? No one, certainly not me at the time.
I had the same confusion back then, my head buried in Lord of the Rings and Ivanhoe, that everyone around me was living in a world that I couldn't understand but should not only join but thrive in. I kept up that appearance as long as academic success was all that mattered, then started crashing badly once I went away to college and things like initiative and ambition became indispensable. I could bend myself out of shape for only so long, it turned out, before I started to break.
Self-acceptance is only marginally easier now than it was twenty years ago. At least I'm mature enough to admit what truly gives me joy. I still struggle with accepting that it's okay to take joy from what I do. And I wrestle with the fear, of course, the ever-present fear of failure, of commitment, of not being good enough.
