Sometimes I catch myself by surprise and have a Healthy Thought. I am usually anxiously planning for the future, or trying to stuff my brain with outside stimuli so I don’t have to think at all.
This year for funzies I decided I wanted to start sketching. I needed something to do with my hands that doesn’t involve my phone. I’m fantastically bad. Lots of times I have to label things, or turn them into bad comics so I can tell what I’m drawing. I thought it wouldn’t be hard to draw like Picasso—just draw a weird person with boobs in strange places—but it runs out that it’s harder than it looks. Especially to draw a boob that doesn’t look like an extra eye.
This process has been greatly amusing to me, and I enjoy it even though I’m horrible. Maybe I enjoy it because I’m terrible? But, I figure if I keep sketching I’ll eventually get better. Probably not great, but eventually I’ll draw something recognizable
Growth Mindset is new to me, even though it’s been taught in elementary school classrooms for years. But, like most of therapy, I believe things wholeheartedly in my mind (wholemindedly?) without that belief reaching my heart. For my Gen X friends, Growth Mindset is simply the belief that you can get better if you keep trying. So instead of telling myself I’m horrible and won’t ever be any good at drawing, I will simply tell myself that if I persevere, in the future I will…suck less. Mind. Blown.
I like to call myself a mediocre perfectionist. If you think that sounds like Jumbo Shrimp, you’re not wrong. I’m not the do things over and over again until they’re just right perfectionist. I’m a perfectionist who tries once and gets discouraged, or refuses to try anything at all just in case I’m not good at it. For years I believed I was lazy, but the new Healthy Thought is, maybe I was just anxious, and I needed reassurance that it was ok to suck.
I’ve wanted a scooter ever since I learned they existed. I probably originally wanted a motorcycle. But then I tried to drive my boyfriend’s, and promptly sook a spill. There’s too much going on, what with shifting and accelerating and breaking and arrrgh. That was the end of the motorcycle dream, because I should have been able to do it perfectly the first time.
I’ve always had a vision of myself riding merrily down the side of the road (not the middle: scooters don’t go that fast) on my aqua colored scooter, matching helmet, long scarf streaming out behind me. I don’t really wear scarves but I would for just this reason. Although, knowing me, said scarf would get caught in the back wheel and strangle me before hurling me out in the middle of the road.
Last year my scooter dreams came true when Nick and I went to Key West. We talked about renting scooters before the trip, and I felt a little anxiety, seeing as how I only had scooter fantasies and not scooter realities. But, Nick reminded me of the scooter fantasy, so I pushed down the anxiety and told myself to feel excited instead. Story of my life. I got on the scooter, sans scarf, because it was 90 degrees, and plus a shit ton of anxiety. I persevered until I turned right and ran straight into a brick wall.
The whole accelerator, handlebar, brake thing foiled me again! I survived with a giant cut on my shin. The scooter dream was dead.
But, after soothing myself with the sunset and a pizza, I had another Healthy Thought. I did learn how to drive an actual car, which has brakes and a steering wheel and turn signals and mirrors. There’s a lot that goes into driving, but I can do it. I can’t Tokyo drift, but I’m passable. I can even drive while eating a Crunchwrap Supreme. With enough practice—first around the yard, then down a quiet road, and then finally on the street—I can drive a scooter. Dream resurrected. That’s how I learned Growth Mindset, albeit 40 years too late. Keep watching this space. Eventually you’ll see an old lady on a scooter
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