My biz-nass.

My mom's brother died when I was in 8th grade of a drug overdose. Honestly, I don't remember many details about him. Of course I remember HIM, I just didn't know him that well. Still it was a shock. He had lived most of his life doing drugs, blowing money, and such things. Interesting because he led a fairly normal life from the outside. He had a lovely wife, and two better kids you couldn't ask for. He had a close extended family, even working for his own father most of his life. Since he died without me knowing him very personally, I kind of wrote him off as one of those no-good druggies.

Just the other day my mom mentioned how he used to send her flowers on all kinds of holidays. He'd always send her something for Mother's Day . . . because after all, she was a mother, just not his. She said he was very sweet and thoughtful. I'd never thought of him that way. I just shaped him in my head as a rascal . . . which he was in part I'm sure.

Growing up is weird. It really is like the more I learn the less I know. I'm less sure about anything, except that before I just had my head in the clouds, or in the sand, or up another dark place we won't call by name.

There are people so close to me that I remember a certain way, only to find out they struggle with something I would have never pinned on them in a million years. I am learning so much in my developmental psychology class. I really feel after every chapter like my head will explode with knowledge that I just can't make true sense of. There is so many contradicting ideas that I believe. Anyways, I guess my life right now and what I am reading are crashing together and I'm trying to connect it all.

What makes a person? Are they summed up by their thoughts and intentions . . . or their words . . . or their actions and behaviors? I know that it is a mixture - all and none of it. You can describe someone's character without mentioning all of their sins. I think before I was able to not think about it because what difference does it make. Now I am trying to decide how I am going to help people, and it makes a HUGE difference.

My professor says it's a good sign to be in this state of disequilibrium . . . but I'm ready to be undisequilibriumized.