The benefit of the doubt.....or something like that

I know, I know....it's been a long time.

I had an interesting experience last night that taught me about forgetting. I went out with a good friend from high school. While we were talking and catching up, she mentioned that she had seen an old boyfriend of hers and recounted a humorous exchange they had. The third member of our party didn't go to high school with us and didn't know who he was or why the story was relevant. My friend quickly helped her out.

"Mark doesn't like him at all," she whispered conspiratorially. The friend looked at me for confirmation.

At this moment, I did a mental double-take. It was true that in our high school days, I had vehement feelings against this particular person. My friend was in relationship with him and he hurt her very, very much (even for high school). Feeling the protector, I was quick to demonize him as a no-good, manipulating blowhard. However, at this point--five years later--time had healed my once-fervent dislike of this person. I of course hadn't forgotten what he had done to my friend, but she herself had healed and moved on, as had I. I was even a little surprised to remember that I did have such strong feelings.

I was a little bit troubled by this experience. I am someone who tends not to forget things. I'm good at remembering names and (unfortunately) people who have done things to hurt those I love. In this case, everyone involved had moved on, and I wish I had made it clear that I was included in "everyone." While this was an innocent reminiscing experience, it made me think of how I remember people and what they've done--even those who haven't been the perpetrator of a heinous offense (like me in this story). I certainly don't want to be remembered as "the one who hated your old boyfriend," and it made me want to give people the benefit of the doubt more often. Just because someone said or did something that may have been hurtful, I'm not in charge of remembering it just in case the need ever arises to pull it out of my arsenal of past experiences to use against them. It made me want to be optimistic about the possibility of change.

What Works and What Doesn't

About 24 hours ago, I was putting together a lesson plan for a class I teach. For the first two days of this class, I tried to create my plans from scratch. This was clearly not the most efficient way to do thing, as it took me three or four hours to do one fifty-minute plan. But I was determined to do it on my own so I pushed through it. I was also completely miserable. I finally put my pride on the shelf and asked a much more experienced instructor for her lesson plans. Now it takes me half the time to examine the prepared lesson plans and tweak them to my own style and preference.

Lesson #1 from this experience: most people (and certainly God ) are more than willing to help if you just ask.

Back to 24 hours ago.

The lesson plan was going a little bit slower than usual this night, even with the help of the already-made plans I used as a base. For the big activity in the middle of the lesson, I decided to just copy and paste the original activity since it was already "clear enough" and easy to explain without my making adjustments to my own way of teaching and explaining.

The next day--today--my lesson was going quite smoothly The class was engaged and participating. I came to the middle activity, the one I stole, for lack of a better term. As I tried to ask questions and explain the concept, I found myself fumbling. I was trying to make sense of the graph that the experienced instructor used. I paused and tried to figure it out while the class waited expectantly. Time slowed down and I'm sure my face started to redden. After I got things figured out, the students started asking questions from the chart I drew on the board. Still trying to recover, I had to think and think and think about their questions. It was a small disaster.

Lesson #2 from this experience: you really need to be yourself and do what works for you, because what works for someone else won't always be the best thing for you. If I had taken the time (24 hours ago) to revamp the chart in a way that made sense to me and a way that I could easily explain - in essence make it my own - the awkward pauses and silences and regroupings today could have been avoided. My students need me and my style to learn, not someone else's, just in the same way that the students of my instructor/benefactor needed her and her style to learn. This is a lesson that is easy to learn in this situation but a lot harder to learn in real life, I think. The feelings I had today after class were very similar to the ones I have after an experience where I knew I was trying to be someone else because I thought that would work better. But in reality, it just makes things harder and worse. It sounds really campy, but people really are basically different for a reason.

On Feeling Pensive and Opening Up

Tonight I went to a volleyball game with an old friend from my freshman year. We were supposed to meet up there with a few of her friends, watch the game, and then head to her apartment and watch a movie. We've done this before and she is one of my favorite friends to spend time with and especially to watch movies with because she reacts in the right spots and always makes just the right amount of comments. Last time we watched a sappy Nicholas Sparks novel-turned-movie and we made snarky comments every few minutes. It's rather enjoyable.

Tonight our plans shifted a little bit. A new friend from one of her classes came to the game with us, but I wasn't too worried. The original plan still held, as far as I knew. After the game, he said we were both invited to his apartment to hang out with some other people and we'd decide from there what would happen. I wasn't thrilled with the idea, but I've known for a while that I need to try to break my bubble, put myself out there and meet some new people. Here was a perfect opportunity. Still a bit unwilling, I agreed to go. He offered to drive us both there so we wouldn't get a boot in his parking lot. This was very nice, but it made me uncomfortable since I wouldn't necessarily be able to leave early if I wanted to. But in the name of friendliness (or a lack of it on my part) I just went along.

Now, the funny thing is.....nothing really went wrong. Nothing happened that made me want to run screaming from the room. There ended up being about 9 people there, which is not exactly what people would call a large party. It wasn't even a party. Nobody was rude to me at all, nobody said anything offensive, I was making nice conversation with a few people, they were asking me questions, everything was relatively normal. But the whole time, I just felt really uncomfortable. I wished and wished that my friend and I had been able to watch a movie at her apartment like we had originally planned. We started playing a board game that really required getting out of one's comfort zone. My discomfort skyrocketed. I knew one out of nine other people and the tasks of the game were really embarrassing. The thought finally formed in my head in words what I had been feeling for about 20 minutes. "I want to get out of here. I want to be at home. Alone."

My freshman year of college, I would have loved this sort of thing. I was all about meeting new people and making as many friends as I could. I liked to run around and do stupid things like spray mustard on random people's windows with a large loud group (I was only 18). Friends of friends became my friends. My Facebook friend count escalated. I liked to play crazy games that would let me show off a bit.

So tonight, I'm feeling pensive. To make sure this is what I was really feeling, I looked up the adjective in the dictionary. This was the second entry:

expressing or revealing thoughtfulness, usually marked by some sadness.

I'm feeling pensive. I feel very philosophical which is laced around the edges with a slight bit of sadness. Two and a half years later, I feel no need to meet anybody new. There are even people in my life that I knew before that I have no desire to see again. When I first came home from my mission, I thought this was a normal thing and that it would pass. Now, however, I know that although it is normal, it is not going to pass. I've discovered that I'm an introvert and while many people who know me wouldn't label me as 'shy,' I don't need a lot of people around me to be content.  I 'gear up' for life by being alone. Being alone is what 'recharges' me. And if I'm not alone, being with some or all of my small group of 10 or less close friends is all I need. In addition, when I'm with those friends, I'm perfectly content just sitting around and talking or playing a board game (one of the suggestions for tonight was a scavenger hunt with a pre-written list of things to do. Get 3 strangers to serenade you? I almost died).

Meeting new people and being the first one to be friendly and say hi, for me, feels very vulnerable. I usually end up replaying the scene in my head, hashing out all the dumb things I said and then wonder what that person thinks of me. It's hard for me to really 'be myself' around people and let them see what I really think and act like. And, in my brain, I don't see any reason to open myself up to vulnerable situations when I already have enough people who I know care about me and like to spend time with me. The rest of the time I enjoy being alone.

So in my uncomfortable situation tonight, when I really started to yearn for my dingy apartment, I announced before rolling the die that this would be my last one. It was. I got up and awkwardly left after my turn. Nobody else left. My friend stayed there. I declined a ride from the kid who had brought us there and said I would walk. It really wasn't far. While walking to my car, all the thoughts I just wrote out went through my head again. Those people were very nice but I have no desire to see any of them again (except for my friend I originally went to the game with). I don't need to. For some reason, this makes me feel a sweet kind of loneliness. Upon arriving home and being in my room - alone - I felt comfortable and happy again. Will I eventually reach out and make a few new and, hopefully, close friends? I hope so. But for now, I'll probably just eat a sandwich, watch an episode of The Mary Tyler Moore show, read a little bit and then head to bed. Let the real charging up begin. Alone.

"I know your face..." "I know your life."

One thing about me is that I remember people's faces and names quite well and, for the most part, many of my interactions with them and/or things I learned about them from them. Sometimes I look up random people from my kindergarten class that moved away on Facebook just to see what they have become, even though they probably have no memory of me (kindergarten was a while ago, after all). This also happened on my mission when we would try to talk to people in the streets. Of course, those who would brush us off like dead flies were certainly ejected from my memory, unless their refusal was particularly rude, which made them almost easier to remember. But whenever we actually did have a meaningful conversation or at least one that lasted longer than 30 seconds, their face was etched in my brain and sometimes we would see them again and it was a bit awkward. Do I acknowledge that we know each other even though I never found out your name or do we acknowledge each other even though we had a ten minute debate on the existence of prophets today? Or the most common question: Do you remember me? And even though it is probably hard to forget two young Americans stopping you on your way to work, it still almost inevitably became an awkward game of alternating eye contact until the moment comes when you must make a decision, which usually turns out as a head nod.

Is it obvious that l I overthink things?

The reason that I overthink this particular thing is due to the fact that often I remember people, but they don't remember me. At least it appears so. Therefore, when I meet a slight acquaintance from a few weeks ago or a friend of a friend that I met at a party, I usually remember them, but I'm never sure if they remember me. I saw a great example of this the other night. I was visiting Temple Square tonight with a good friend. We were entering a building and I opened the door for myself and my friend held it for some people after me. As I waited for my friend, the group of young people walked past me and I instantly recognized one of them. It was a missionary from my mission but quite a bit older than I was and kind of looks like a dinosaur. I sort of stared at him trying to see if he had recognized me, having already met on several occasions. Nothing. I wasn't offended but I did want to tell my friend who was with me (also from the mission) that I knew who it was. Then, before I had a chance, the older missionary turned back, looked at me strangely and our conversation went as follows. Italics are my unvocalized thoughts.

Him: Excuse me...do you speak _____?
Me: Yea, I do.
Him: Did you serve in the ________ mission?
Me: Yea! And so did you. Your name is _____ ______. You were my Zone Leader for a transfer. I've actually seen you several times on campus already.Him: Hey, me too! When did you get home?
Me: In June, so it hasn't been a super long time. You went home in December of 2010, right after my six month mark. I remember your last testimony at Christmas Conference. You mentioned that you really learned to talk with God on your mission.Him: Ok. Who was in your group?
Me: You trained my friend Elder ______ but to avoid any possible awkward situations which would arise from showing that I know more than I'm saying, I'll mention him third or fourth. Oh, Elder So-and-So, Elder What's-his-name, and Elder _______
Him: Ok, cool, I trained him!
Me: I know. In Brest. Really? That's awesome. Good to see you!
Him: You too!

Is this normal?!

Now, obviously that doesn't truly follow my true stream of thought during the conversation, but in the moments that followed it, I certainly did a mental run-through of all the things I remembered about him. One factor that may play into this one-sided memory lapse can be based on the fact that when you are older in the mission, you aren't really aware of younger missionaries, but when you are new, you learn to know everybody. So maybe I'm not crazy. At least not in this given instance.

This also happened in one of my first class periods this semester. A girl from a dance class I took when I was a freshman walked in and I remembered her instantly. After a few days she looked at me funny and said, "I think I know you from somewhere, but I can't think where." It's the dance class that we both took fall and winter semesters. You were also in my English class winter semester. When my turn came to present myself in front of the class, you asked me what my favorite dance step was that we had learned. You had long hair that you chopped off into a pixie cut that you are still sporting. Yea, it's so weird, I know you too.....Oh, I know! Dance class freshman year!

From her tone of voice, I suspected that she remembered too and was merely being socially correct. This leads to my big question: Does everyone remember faces and I am just ignorant of it? Is it so necessary to maintain social grace and avoid coming off as creepy that we feign temporary amnesia? I know I certainly do. How off-putting is it if you go around reciting every fact you know about a person that you haven't talked to more than a handful of times in very casual settings that took place over two years ago? I think a lot of people would want to forget me if I did something like that.

I guess this is what they call a social conundrum because I'm not sure what the solution is. As uncertain as I am of the solution, I'm equally certain that I cannot be the only one to whom this happens. But I'm not as certain that there needs to be a solution. It's not a problem, but just something that occurs once in a while in everyone's life. (But if there is a solution, please tell me.)

Conclusion? Usually I like to tidy things up in nice bows at the end of talks, papers, and now blog posts. In formal papers for school, if you look at how long my conclusions and body are in proportion to how much  time was spent on each, conclusions will leave the body far behind. Everything has to be summed up in just the right way. So I'm breaking  my own rules here and even going against my character in saying that I have absolutely no resolution or conclusion to offer.






That was really hard to type.