"I just need to blog, blog it out!"

Pheeeeeeewwww.

My counter is annoying me.  I try not to look at it. I hate it.

Something awful is happening to me.  Whenever I think about National Office, which is basically all the time, and especially when I'm studying (which should be all the time...I'm working on that) my stomach gets all knotted up and I feel sick.  A few minutes ago I had to skip one of my favorite songs, "The Contradiction," on my iPod, because it was making me anxious.  The worst part is, my iPod is only playing songs from my "classical genre."
Here it goes again.  Apparently I can't listen to Piano Concerto No. 1 in B Flat Minor either...

Any hints or tips for overcoming the worst case of nerves you've ever had?  Pre-nerves, because I'm not even at convention yet?

I don't understand.  I planned to feel 12,000 percent prepared by this point.  And now (almost) 350 hours later, I feel so panicky.  So I just had to stop for a minute and blog.  Yes, this is taking away from actual time that I could be immersing my poor swollen brain in more facts, so it seems contradictory.  But I can't focus.

So I need to just take a minute and remember why I'm doing this.  Because is it to be a National Officer?  Is that my goal, my end all, be all, or my entire life?  Because it shouldn't be.  My goal is to be me.  To be the very best version of me that I can possibly be, and that me is a helpful, kind, compassionate, friendly me.  I want to make a difference in people's lives.  FFA member's lives, yes, but beyond that- people's lives.  And if I don't become a National Officer, I'm still going to accomplish that goal.  So there's no pressure, really, because my goal is one hundred percent achievable and I have the rest of my life to attain it.

I'm not ready for National Convention right now, this very second.  But lucky for me, convention is still a little ways away,  So talk to me 150 hours from now.  And then I'll be as ready as I ever hoped to be.  Of course, there will always be something more I could have done, but I'm not sure how much difference it would have made anyway.  I have a little ways to go, but I've come a long ways since last November.

Here's a poem I found on Bethany Bohnenblust's National Officer blog today.

Fresh Start

Here marks a fresh start

a new freedom for my heart

My chance at being me,

doing what I want, totally free.

And it won't be a big deal.

It's nothing like I thought,

I survived the battles I fought.

My thoughts are all gone,

like the night at down.

My soul is free of sorrow,

I'll do what I want tomorrow.

I can't be held or bound.

I will spread my wings and leave this ground.

Distraction has no control.

My life will no longer be dull.

I will have the power.

I'll pass the highest tower.

Don't try to stop me now,

'Cause you won't know how.

For I will be totally free.

And I'll be one hundred percent me!

by xO

And here's a quote she posted as well:

"I have always been delighted at a prospect of a new day, a fresh try, one more start with perhaps a big of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning." ~Joseph Priestly

My goal for September (I just decided, two minutes ago) is to be calm.  Reflecting on what I've written here can help me to do that.  I love that I have tomorrow to improve: to focus more, to be more productive, to be more outgoing, to be more calm, and to be a better me.  I'm so grateful for my savior's atonement that allows me endless and constant "do-overs" in my life.  Tomorrow I will not feel this way.  Tomorrow will be better.

While I'm talking about myself and how I be myself, I guess I'll post this poem as well.  It was originally sent to one of my co-workers, the wonderful Patricia, and it describes her perfectly.  I read it and loved it and stole it.  I hope it describes me as well.  I've always felt that hard work is a solution for everything.

To be of Use
The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half submerged balls.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who stand in the line and haul in their places,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.

by Marge Piercy

So my plan for the rest of today: read The Leadership Challenge and skim through The Arsenal again.  Have a little fun today.  Tomorrow I'm spending as much time as I can handle here at the library, delving head-first into Hot Topics 101!  I'd like to study all day Monday as well, I think most of my roommates are going home...but I don't have internet at the condo yet, and nothing on campus will be open.  Anyone know of a good internet cafe?

One of the most gorgeous views on Earth, at the Pettit farm.  Mmm, I feel calmer already...

Have a great long weekend.  I'll be studying.

Love, Rachel