Categories: uncategorized
Date: 11 June 2009 10:18:21
I finally noticed that I didn't know when to stop. It's something you just learn, isn't it? Or most people learn, at any rate. But it seems I just didn't. And it's more of an indirect problem than a problem in itself, because it means I'm constantly expecting to be told to stop. I'm expecting to have gone too far and not noticed myself, and to be pulled up short by those around me. I only think I properly noticed this this morning when talking to Cambuslang about something I really love. There don't seem to be too many of these things any more so I indulged myself a little and talked longer about it than my cautious instincts would have allowed. And then I realized that I was hyper-conscious of the other people in the room and nervous, and that that nervousness was precisely because I expected them to tell me to stop. I was expecting to be told that my enthusiasm had carried me away, and carried me into the wrong. The obvious conclusion from this is that I have simply failed to learn where the limits are and where I should stop. But the other fairly obvious conclusion is that the reason I have few enthusiasms now is because I have trampled on all those I had for fear of them carrying me away.