Complex

It sort of serves me right to miss out on sunrise yoga this morning, after not quite finding the motivation to venture over to the rec center on several occasions this week. So instead, denied, I am hiding my face at Starbucks with all the tourists (real Durango-ans no doubt take their business elsewhere). Tuesdays are taking on the weighty impulsiveness of Sundays during school time--too timid to trump the specter looming of real work, and far too much to accomplish in the meantime.

I am facing this shift with a fair amount of trepidation. This week is number three, what should be the end of my apprenticeship. Even aside from the pressure I feel to perform well and move forward, I am working towards intention for the week to come. Last shift part of the reason I felt successful is coming in with very specific bite-sized goals for myself. They were in large part reflections of that very first week int he field. I'm not sure yet what I want to reflect, what my task will be.

As for improvements, nothing sure really trips to the front of my mind. Not to say I was close to flawless last shift, far from it. But most of what I'd like to improve doesn't come alont with steps A-K. My biggest point of concern is maintaining the facade of appropriateness with the students. I worked really hard during last shift in the field to be more aware of the things I said to the girls, and the manner in which I spoke to them. It was frusterating to even still get feedback on the topic. She is probably right though, that I'm not super cognizant of the root of the things I'm saying, particularly family and other parts of my history which still cause me pain. The problem is I don't really see a logical doable fix, no intermediate between inadequate and better.

I think I could probably benefit from admitting my fears surrounding the pure logistics of this job. I have, sort of, the personal impact anyways. But at a very core level I'm afraid of fucking this up. At basically every juncture for feedback I imagine them to finally tell me the jig is up, OK thanks for playing, but it is time to go. Ellen intimidates me alot (hello transferance) and every time we are riding too or from base and I hear people compliment any of the other new folks a more than small part of me wonders why no one is saying similar things about me.

This inferiority complex this is so abstractly fascinating for me. Where the hell did it come from? It's not exactly like I was verbally beaten as a child or anything. All of these latent expectations seem so foreign and inexplicable, yet at the same time so perfectly familiar.