In our house, more often than not, you can find us watching a science special on television.
A few weeks ago we were watching a special on Albert Einstein or Stephen Hawking or some other supergenius and I mentioned to Rob how amazing it is that there are actually people out there who are clearly and organically so much smarter than the rest of us. While I struggle with how to readjust a recipe to feed 2 people instead of 8 without a calculator, these men are figuring out the goddamn universe you guys. I mean for real, I can barely be trusted to brush my teeth twice a day.
I have always assumed that people who do things like science, math, walking in heels, and art are just naturally better than me--better than me in these areas and I suspect just better people in general. They must have some magical element that's simply missing in my brain, as though I could study physics all day every single day for my entire life and I'd still be about as proficient with I am now, which is to say, not proficient at all. When I think about this in the context of people like Hawking or Einstein I just feel useless. Like what the hell do I do while these people are contemplating the uncontemplatable? Sit around whining about how useless I am?
SCIENCE!
So we were watching Albert Hawkingstein when Rob made a point to me that has stuck with me ever since: "It isn't that they're inherently smarter with you, it's just that physics isn't interesting to you. If you were interested in it you'd want to study it every day, and you'd be as devoted as they are."
Full disclosure, I'm actually paraphrasing. He might've said something more along the lines of, "Can you stop requesting validation that you're not a totally useless lump while I'm trying to watch this show?" I thought about his point at length, though, and still found myself feeling useless. What exactly am I passionate about? What do I do well? Aside from whining and sleeping (which I am objectively great at) I couldn't come up with much.
In the subsequent period of introspection I thought back to those ventures I have tried and noticed a common thread. Whenever I've tried to learn how to do something--from art to math to exercise--I have found that if do not instantly excel at the task I give up in a flustered huff. The effect is heightened when there's some implied element of competition or judgement, such as in school or at the gym.
Recently I started playing the game "Draw Something" on my iPhone and then my iPad. At first the game was just as frustrating to me as my efforts to draw have been at the past. Excluding a whole lot of scribbling and doodling as a kid, drawing has always been a total mystery to me. If you tell me to draw something it's almost as if a physical wall appears in my brain; I simply cannot translate what I see in real life or in my head to paper.
ART!
But the non-competitive nature of the game (side note: what the hell is the point of this game, by the way?) allowed me to feel comfortable in drawing pictures that could easily be bested by a blindfolded three-year-old in what I would imagine to be the most bizarre drawing competition in the world. Once I switched from my iPhone to my iPad, the drawing got easier because I wasn't so heavy-handed on my tiny phone. Gradually, the process of drawing and the translating got easier and easier to the point that I actually started to enjoy creating a comprehensive picture.
Now don't get me wrong, I still can't draw for shit, as any of my current Draw Something competitors and that fucking awesome centaur could tell you. All of the people I draw are stick figures, and mediocre ones at that. But this experience helped me realize that the only thing that has been keeping me back from learning what I'm best at is me. I've been so afraid of failure that it's possible I've totally missed out on a new passion or some skill that is completely within my grasp to learn and do well.
In light of this revelation, I decided that maybe I should pursue drawing as a hobby. I've been trying to think of an anxiety-reducing activity that I could do to unwind when I'm feeling uptight; I have other anxious friends who find comfort in knitting or crocheting, and I'm hoping that drawing is this hobby for me. Since I have no one monitoring this hobby--anything I sketch will not be featured here, and you're welcome in advance--I figure I don't have to worry about feeling judged, which should help keep me on task and prevent me from quitting out of embarrassment.
I want to reiterate that I have no great hopes (I mean, just look at that centaur) or great aspirations. I know I'll never be a great artist because I suspect that I have no natural talent (again, centaur), but I figure that it couldn't hurt to try something new and to challenge my fear of failure in a most uncomfortable way.
You're next, physics.
Now don't get me wrong, I still can't draw for shit, as any of my current Draw Something competitors and that fucking awesome centaur could tell you. All of the people I draw are stick figures, and mediocre ones at that. But this experience helped me realize that the only thing that has been keeping me back from learning what I'm best at is me. I've been so afraid of failure that it's possible I've totally missed out on a new passion or some skill that is completely within my grasp to learn and do well.
In light of this revelation, I decided that maybe I should pursue drawing as a hobby. I've been trying to think of an anxiety-reducing activity that I could do to unwind when I'm feeling uptight; I have other anxious friends who find comfort in knitting or crocheting, and I'm hoping that drawing is this hobby for me. Since I have no one monitoring this hobby--anything I sketch will not be featured here, and you're welcome in advance--I figure I don't have to worry about feeling judged, which should help keep me on task and prevent me from quitting out of embarrassment.
I want to reiterate that I have no great hopes (I mean, just look at that centaur) or great aspirations. I know I'll never be a great artist because I suspect that I have no natural talent (again, centaur), but I figure that it couldn't hurt to try something new and to challenge my fear of failure in a most uncomfortable way.
You're next, physics.
