The Cosmic Vending Machine
Lately, I’ve found myself in a strange headspace where every chance I get, I want to practice emotional control. It feels like there are so many moments during the day where people try to provoke a reaction, whether it's intentional or not, and I catch myself taking things too personally. There was one particular conversation this morning where I could’ve put that practice to the test. I had the opportunity to just sit back, keep my emotions in check, and not flaunt my advantage. But instead, I didn’t control myself. I had to prove that I was smarter, which, in hindsight, was a bit of a misstep.
Over the weekend, while I was doing my taxes, I ended up on the phone with my family. As I talked with my parents, I started questioning myself—why am I so hard on myself? I couldn’t help but think about this internal tyrant in my head. The thoughts I have about myself are intense. If I were saying them out loud to someone else, they’d be borderline abusive. It’s unsettling. Jordan Peterson has a rule I try to follow—treat others like you’re responsible for helping them—but instead, I’ve been treating myself horribly, constantly battling with self-loathing. It’s no way to live, and I realize how draining it is to be in constant turmoil with myself.
This realization made me think about something I’ve been ignoring—how I’ve been putting my ambitions on the back burner. I’m always working towards the next goal: a new job, certifications, promotions at Accenture—but I’m also holding myself back. I want to take my career and learning more seriously, but there’s a part of me that has been reluctant to dive deeper. The worst part is that I’ve been surrounding myself with choices that don’t align with where I want to go. It’s hard to make meaningful change when the environment is constantly tempting you to take the easy route.
On Monday something happened that made me stop and think for a second. I was talking to Kate, someone I haven’t spoken to in a little while. She looked at me and said, “You look tired.” And she was right—I am tired. But my response was “everyday,” as if I was trying to make it sound like some kind of badge of honor, when in reality, it was just sad. The truth is, I’ve been operating under the false idea that being a workaholic is something to be proud of. It’s not. It’s just a way of avoiding facing the things that truly matter.
After a busy Tuesday and Wednesday, I finally had a long-overdue phone call with my aunt. I hadn’t spoken to her in a while, and it was refreshing. The conversation flowed so naturally, and it opened me up in ways I wasn’t expecting. We talked about a lot, but one thing stood out to me: my faith has been wavering. I haven’t been as connected lately, and I realized it’s something I’ve been neglecting. I’ve been too busy, too distracted by everything else. In talking with my aunt, I even admitted that I might be better off spending my time at the gym rather than at the Monday night sermon recap, but there’s something missing there too.
A big part of the conversation also revolved around a person who’s been on my mind lately—an old flame. There was something she said a couple of weeks ago that made me think she might still have some feelings for me. We were talking about my blog, and I noticed someone from her area had viewed my story. I called it out playfully, saying, “Thanks for reading my blog.” She quickly responded, “I didn’t, I think it would say USF.” At the time, I didn’t think much of it, but now, looking back, I’m glad I didn’t. It gave me some space to think about the situation, and now I’m wondering if it was a sign or just a coincidence.
I’m still figuring out what all of this means. It’s like life is a string of events, intertwined and hard to untangle. But sometimes, I think you just have to trust that things are happening for a reason, even if you can’t see how they all connect. For now, I’m trying to focus on the present, pushing myself to grow and understand who I am in the process.