What I Do is Not Who I Am

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About a year ago, I was starting my semester of student teaching in order to complete my education degree.  I spent seven weeks at one school and eight at another, and the seven weeks I spent at the first school were some of the hardest weeks I have ever experienced.  I admit, friends, that I feel a little ashamed to say this–that the weeks in which I was finally getting experience in my chosen career field, when no catastrophe or life-changing terror entered my life, were still some of the worst weeks of my life–but it’s true.

Every morning, I woke up feeling sick to my stomach.  Every night, I went to bed with tears in my eyes.  I clung to my faith and my friends like never before, and I still felt like I was barely scraping by.  Every class I taught felt like a failure, with my cooperating teacher watching me and critiquing me at every turn, and every moment I had to myself was filled with anxiety.  After several days, a phrase came into my head, and I repeated it to myself like a mantra: What I do is not who I am.

I clung to this phrase.  What I do is not who I am.  The students I taught, the teachers I worked with, had no idea who I was at home or what I did with my free time.  They didn’t know anything more about me than what I portrayed in the classroom, and I knew that I was worth much more than those poor performances.  The sting of failure and mistakes was still there, but through it all I reminded myself that what I do is not who I am.

Now, I’m not saying that our actions do not make us into the people that we are.  Of course, the things we do on a daily basis come from our past and present selves and shape our future selves.  What I’m saying is that my identity is not wrapped up in my job, my friends, or even my hobbies.  Each of us is more complex than that.  We all have been given a variety of talents and interests, and a mistake made in one area of life does not constitute a complete failure of all the areas.

Why have I told you all this long story of my life, and why did I see fit to put it on this blog?  Because this difficult period of my life contributed greatly to my desire to consume less and create more.  If I want to remind myself that what I do is not who I am, that my issues in one area of life are not the sum total of my life, I need to create a more meaning-filled life.  If, after a hard day of work, I simply come home, watch TV, scan Pinterest and Facebook, and shut out the world, I have nothing to fall back on.  My mistakes at work will fill me because I am not filling myself with anyone else.  On the other hand, if I instead create, write, encourage a friend, learn something new, pray for someone with greater problems than my own, take a walk, learn a new piece of music–then I can truly say, “What I do is not who I am.”

Rules of Adulthood

Hello friends!  Today’s topic is something I’ve been thinking about for a while.

I’m a big fan of Gretchen Rubin and her Happiness Project blog and books.  One of the things that fascinates me most about her project is her Rules of Adulthood.  They’re basically heuristics, rules of thumb, that she has found to be true about her life as an adult.  These Rules are an easy way to remember what you’ve learned about yourself or about life in general, and they help point the way to who you really want to become.  So, listed below are my Rules of Adulthood so far.  Some are borrowed from Gretchen Rubin, and some are all my own.

• Never work a job that makes you feel sick to your stomach.  (The first seven weeks at my first school during my student teaching were the hardest weeks of my life.  I’m glad I went through them, but I never want to work a job again that consumes me with anxiety and fear, especially when I’m off the clock.)
• When in doubt, breathe.  (As noted before, I can be a very anxious person.  Sometimes all it takes are a few deep breaths to get me back on track.)
• The days are long, but the years are short.  (This is one of Rubin’s.  The older I get, the more true this seems.)
• Everything ends.  (My own, somewhat nihilistic motto.  Still, it makes me feel better.  Whether good or bad, awkward or painful, every experience I have will end sooner or later.)
• Welcome failure; welcome success.  (Whatever results come from my endeavors, I can learn from them.  I don’t want to fear either failure or success.)
• Some things are not worth doing.  (I’m a compulsive list-maker and goal-setter.  Sometimes I have to remind myself that I need to put aside the checklist and focus on what is really important–God, family, friends, making beauty.)
• You know who you are; don’t let others tell you otherwise.  (I tend to be a people pleaser, but the older I get, the more I realize that, with only a few exceptions, I know myself, my personality and limitations, better than anyone else.  I can’t let others’ criticisms, praise, or expectations determine the way I view myself.)
• Do it now.  (Don’t put off nagging tasks!)
• Every person is just a person.  (Whether rich or poor, dropout or doctorate, Christian or atheist, kind or rude, everyone that I meet is just human.  I don’t have any reason to be intimidated or to feel superior, because deep down, we all struggle with similar fears and desires.)
• Find out what the real problem is.  (Sometimes the solution to an uncomfortable, anxiety-inducing situation can be simpler than it seems.  For example, I really hate making phone calls.  When I thought through what the real problem was, I realized that I was afraid of saying something stupid because I wasn’t sure what I needed to ask.  Now, I take a couple of minutes to rehearse what I’m going to say before I make the call, and phone calls are no longer a stress-inducing event.)

Anyone else have Rules of Adulthood that you live by?  I’d love to hear about them in the comments!