I got a reminder of my mortality and the need to be careful. Yesterday morning I was a bit late to class and as I whipped down the hill (slowing at intersections, of course) and made the turn onto Hole Gasse, I released my breaks a bit too soon for the curve I was taking and suddenly found myself lying on my left side in the middle of the road. The road was wet and it was still early, so that might have been one reason why I misjudged the curve and my speed. I lay they in a bit of a shock, but some people had seen it and called out to see if I was okay. I was hoping nothing was broken and I figured since I couldn’t tell it probably meant nothing was.
I started making moves to get up, and as I did answered the men saying I thought I was okay. That much I managed in German, though the shock of the accident had me speaking English to strangers involuntarily all day. I hurt quite a bit and was surprised my hip wasn’t smashed. I was going rather quickly, but I don’t remember skidding and my clothes show no signs of abuse. I got on my feet and told the men I was fine and they left me alone. I gather my stuff back on my bike and in a bit of a daze got back on the horse and went to school. I was quite cautious after that, namely because I wasn’t sure I was right in the head. Biking didn’t cause much pain but I could hardly walk up to the fourth floor for notation class. I was rather out of it, but nobody seemed to notice. I sometimes stumbled over my words in a way to make the whole class laugh, but I suppose that happens often enough nobody thought anything of it. I felt rather woozy and out of it and started wondering if I might have hit my head or needed to go to the doctor, but rather suddenly an hour into class I felt things come into focus and I felt much better. Walking after having sat for two hours was extremely painful, but I made it to the bike and home. Stephan didn’t indicate that I sounded any different on the phone, and just like my dad, he was more concerned that I could still play my instruments than anything else. ;)
The rest of the day was painful to get through, but aside from having men carry my harp around I managed to fight through the day thinking that movement would be the best way to diminish the soreness in following days. I feel like a person split in two. My whole left side is sore, painful to the touch and every movement and my right side is just dandy. To my utter delight and surprise, after a good nights sleep I was less still in the morning than the day before. Ah youth, it is still mine to claim. For all anybody knows I made up the whole story because there is not a scratch, not a bruise, not a scrap of evidence that anything happened. Yes, Mommy, I’m being more careful now.
Last night’s Bible study was encouraging. I was able to follow the discussion well enough to decide to make a point. It seemed to come across and I was just congratulating myself when one fellow said “That’s a very American way of thinking.” Ouch, here I thought I had something to bring to the table, and it’s just my culture speaking through me! I thought it was my own idea since most Americans I’ve expressed it to haven’t thought about it before . . . Maybe I said something completely different. I suppose that’s one thing I can never know for sure.
The other revelation of the week has been about perfectionism and motivation. Since Stephan will only be back a short while before leaving again, I’m trying hard to get as much work done ahead of time as possible so I can have time with him. Hence, I’ve been making it my goal to do my homework the day it is assigned. I have succeeded with Satzlehre and with notation, but in both cases it was painful. I spent an hour on each and if an hour was all I had I would be happy to have something to turn in, but I really want to do so much more than that. Deadlines are the only things that make me stop. It’s so hard to say “this is as far as I will go” because I want to do all of it the best I can! There’s no time for that, and I never knew how much that affected my thinking and life until now. Perfectionism and procrastination go hand in hand, and so, too, does stress. Put another way, every task I am faced with I ‘plan’ to do in great detail and the best I can, then I carry around this huge to do list where every item requires a lot of work. I finally am forced to do a task when it’s due and then it gets done in time, but not as nicely as I’d hoped and then I feel guilty or terrible ore inadequate for what I did and ‘plan’ to do even better the next time but I’m so worn out from the stress of – what? Not doing anything? – that I put off the task for later and anyway I’m on to the next urgent task that I’d put off. It makes it hard to do non urgent tasks so things like communicating with people I love infrequently hits the ‘due’ date even though I had great intensions. I am sorely tempted to go back and do more notation even though what I have is the minimum required and I have better things to do with my time. My parents swear they never pushed me to such perfection. Where did I get the addiction? I guess admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery.
Anyway, classes have been going well and though it some time, things were clicking in my voice lesson again, which is terribly exciting. I survived dance class tonight with minimum pain, which also thrills me. Good work, little body, for healing so fast!
I'd be interested in what you said that was so American...
Keep up the good work, little body!
It was my idea about applying our hands and head to appropriate tasks rather than putting heart and soul into that which does not need it. The idea that our heart and soul are always pressing towards God and that thought our hands be doing tasks our worth is not bound up in how we do those tasks. This way we are at peace in the Lord as we do our work on earth, and at the same time we can do our work on earth better as we resting in the One who gave us our work in the first place! Maybe he thought I was suggesting we separate ourselves from our work and do everything in a disinterested way. His visit to America was in a very small, conservative Christian town, so quite different from the America I'm used to talking to.
Of course you realize this means I can no longer trust that when I don't hear from you it means you are just busy and happy. Good thing I know there are other people keeping tabs on you, and that someone would have noticed if you hadn't been able to handle the problem yourself.
Funny; I don't see that as an American way of thinking at all. Of course I'm immersed in the culture, and so could just be blind. I thought the stereotype of an American has him putting too much heart and soul and identity into his job, possessions, and entertainment rather than family and relationships and the more important things in life.
I was fine, that's why I could wait to write it up. ;)
I don't see it as American at all, so it has be wondering what he meant. The thing about conservative towns is just a guess since I know that's where his experience comes from.
I so identify with your second-to-last paragraph! It must be genetic. My perfectionist tendencies are even now tempting me to write a lot more here, and I hope to, but I'm sticking with merely making an acknowledgement of the connection and getting back to pressing matters that will not wait.
I doubt it's genetic. Or if it is, it is recessive.
Hmmm...do you mean that both Porter and I share the trait, or that Janet doesn't?
I mean I know enough families where at least one of the parents exhibits perfectionist tendencies and at least one of the children doesn't to conclude that it's not purely genetic. I'd rather not get into the nature vs. nurture debate right now, though.
Now I get it, thanks. My comment about it being genetic was not all that serious. I come down firmly on both sides of the Nature vs. Nurture fence, anyway.
[What we are] = [Heredity + Environment + Will] x [Grace of God]
Looks like a good formula, where "good" is at least defined by it works quite nicely for the 0 and infinite cases in the "grace of God" variable.
Hi Janet,
I'm glad you are ok after your spill. I hate to think of you lying there in the middle of the street with no one to come to your rescue. I guess you will have some bruises come up later, but as you say your youth prevails.
So many good things to talk about on this page, I wouldn't know where to begin. I don't know that Americans put their heart and soul into work. It seems to me (just an opinion) that people here are mostly driven to acquire and stay ahead of the other guy and to "plan for retirement" when they can finally engage in what they really want to do. Then, at some point, the desire to acquire (power, prestige, material goods) takes over and becomes the end goal or only goal, so more time and effort are spent in the pursuit while somehow there is less heart and soul involved. The important things are put off until tomorrow and tomorrow never comes. Then one day midlife crisis comes or retirement comes, and the person finds that he has somehow wasted or missed life.
I've probably missed the whole gist of the conversation and the intent. Anyhow, this makes me think of Brother Lawrence who talks about focusing on the Lord in all tasks, even while peeling potatoes or doing whatever menial task. Mother Theresa says something to the effect that we can do no great things, only small things with great love. MacDonald would talk about either going up the hill and becoming more like a true man or descending down the hill and becoming more and more like an animal.
Be safe Janet. =)
You're right, Jimmy. I suppose losing heart and soul is a better way to put it. I'm not that type - I have the compulsion to put heart and soul into everything and therefore make them into something more important than they are. I think praying while pealing potatoes and doing small things with great love come closer to the picture I was trying to paint. Thanks.
