Really, that's what it came down to. Acceptance. The external "rewards" of making perfect sense, whether on the bowling floor or in a college class or in a corporate job meant I might be OK ... I might not be a freak or a weirdo or abnormal.
So striving for perfect sense made, well, perfect sense.
But as I grow in my own self-awareness, I realize that I don't really want to make "perfect sense." After all, there is no such thing as perfect, which I didn't realize growing up. Perfectionism is a curse until you become aware of what's actually behind the persona of perfectionism: a longing for acceptance, in my case.
I always had crazy, wacky, out-there ideas.Briefly to describe :: CURIOUSITY. As far back as I can remember, I was asking questions no one else was, and wondering why they all "got it" when I wanted more information. Eventually I learned to stop questioning and follow the crowd so I could fit in, as much as a 5'4"(referring to inches n height) 10-year-old can fit in. I wanted desperately to have some companionship with my wacky thought patterns, but since I didn't feel I could share them for fear I'd be chastised, I took what I could get.
How I longed to make "perfect sense" to someone!
And now, many years (and quite a few more inches in height) later, I find that I really don't want to make perfect sense at all. In fact, I want to INVITE DIALOGUE, which means we all get to learn from each other while asking questions that may challenge that "perfect sense" sense. When all the players in a dialogue feel refreshed and enlivened, that's my definition of a good day's work.
You never know when we might discover and create our own "perfect sense."
And this upcoming semester, will surely be a pre-intro for getting into the industry. Math-Geeks! Risk-Geeks!
Welcome 3rd year.
After all, may allah ease my journey. To learn more. To contribute a bit to the planet. To enchant my parents. Ultimately, be a good caliph to my god.