![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Wonder what it's like.
So today I finished the cataloging at the gallery. I think. There's probably a shelf or two somewhere I missed, or a few books that came in while I was working that need to get added to the catalog. And there's the actual moving of the books to keep the categories together. But the books that I was supposed to record, with the data I was supposed to take down, are as close to being done as is possible without getting someone to sign off on it.
I started at the gallery last January. Like I told my supervisor today, this is the longest I've ever worked for anyone or anything. That alone makes me want it to stick around a bit more. But like I told her, they brought me on to do something, and after I finish, that's pretty much it.
This is, I think, something I need to devote about an hour to thinking and writing about.
So here's something I've already thought a lot about in the meantime.
Snowflake Challenge, Day Five: In your own space, share something non-fannish you are passionate about with your fannish friends. Leave a comment in this post saying you did it. Include a link to your post if you feel comfortable doing so.
I think pretty much everyone who reads this journal knows how passionate I am about weightlifting at this point. But it's entirely possible at least three people don't. I like to joke that it's just picking up heavy things and putting them down - or sometimes putting down a heavy thing and then picking it up again for variety - and while that's true of the basic mechanics, there's a lot more to it than that, even beyond having to pay attention to where the body is at all times so nothing goes wrong. The 'paying attention to where the body is' aspect is a big selling point for me. I got into weightlifting in my senior year of college and let it take off in grad school, and there's no coincidence I started doing more research papers and long essays and cerebral coursework that I had a hard time fitting into my brain. I tell people that a bench press is an extremely relaxing thing to do, because when I've got eighty to ninety-some-odd pounds in my hands over my chest, I literally do not care about anything else. It's kind of like baking: there's just the physical world to deal with. Just what comes next.
There are times in the gym when I'm about to do another set when, for motivation, I remind myself I have the physical capability of performing this task, so I just need to go and do it. That sort of objective measure - either I can pick up this weight, or I can't - is nice to come to after an afternoon of staring at job listings asking for more than what I've got, or trying to make sense of the currency of research, or figuring out how to sell myself in a cover letter. And it's nice to leave feeling empowered, having picked up the weight and put it down over and over, and that much more ready to get on with the night's work for the major disaster recovery plan assignment due in a few weeks. There are clear goals to set and meet and surpass.
Quite honestly, there's nothing like the feeling of doing a little more than what I did last week and knowing I'm a little stronger than I used to be and that next week I'll be even stronger. That six months ago I couldn't have done this. That what I did six months ago seems so light on my shoulders now. Pretty much every time I finish a good set of deadlifts I know I've done something big enough to throw off everything society wants me to think about my body - too much fat, not enough height, hair done wrong, whatever you want - and focus on what I can do with it instead. It's both meditative and empowering, and not much can claim both.
The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you’re a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds. - Henry Rollins
I started at the gallery last January. Like I told my supervisor today, this is the longest I've ever worked for anyone or anything. That alone makes me want it to stick around a bit more. But like I told her, they brought me on to do something, and after I finish, that's pretty much it.
This is, I think, something I need to devote about an hour to thinking and writing about.
So here's something I've already thought a lot about in the meantime.
Snowflake Challenge, Day Five: In your own space, share something non-fannish you are passionate about with your fannish friends. Leave a comment in this post saying you did it. Include a link to your post if you feel comfortable doing so.
I think pretty much everyone who reads this journal knows how passionate I am about weightlifting at this point. But it's entirely possible at least three people don't. I like to joke that it's just picking up heavy things and putting them down - or sometimes putting down a heavy thing and then picking it up again for variety - and while that's true of the basic mechanics, there's a lot more to it than that, even beyond having to pay attention to where the body is at all times so nothing goes wrong. The 'paying attention to where the body is' aspect is a big selling point for me. I got into weightlifting in my senior year of college and let it take off in grad school, and there's no coincidence I started doing more research papers and long essays and cerebral coursework that I had a hard time fitting into my brain. I tell people that a bench press is an extremely relaxing thing to do, because when I've got eighty to ninety-some-odd pounds in my hands over my chest, I literally do not care about anything else. It's kind of like baking: there's just the physical world to deal with. Just what comes next.
There are times in the gym when I'm about to do another set when, for motivation, I remind myself I have the physical capability of performing this task, so I just need to go and do it. That sort of objective measure - either I can pick up this weight, or I can't - is nice to come to after an afternoon of staring at job listings asking for more than what I've got, or trying to make sense of the currency of research, or figuring out how to sell myself in a cover letter. And it's nice to leave feeling empowered, having picked up the weight and put it down over and over, and that much more ready to get on with the night's work for the major disaster recovery plan assignment due in a few weeks. There are clear goals to set and meet and surpass.
Quite honestly, there's nothing like the feeling of doing a little more than what I did last week and knowing I'm a little stronger than I used to be and that next week I'll be even stronger. That six months ago I couldn't have done this. That what I did six months ago seems so light on my shoulders now. Pretty much every time I finish a good set of deadlifts I know I've done something big enough to throw off everything society wants me to think about my body - too much fat, not enough height, hair done wrong, whatever you want - and focus on what I can do with it instead. It's both meditative and empowering, and not much can claim both.
The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you’re a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds. - Henry Rollins