Every Friday, there will be a prompt to lead us to the weekend. I would love to see your responses or thoughts about process in the comments. Or, even better? Leave us a link to your own blog and response there! I challenge you to sit, breathing just like you do, and just see the world around you. Just a few minutes, a few breaths. Then, set a timer or page limit (for however long you want), and WRITE! Just put pen to paper (fingers to keyboard). Don’t stop. Don’t think. Just ground yourself in the prompt. Come back to it if you need to. But, for all that is good in this world, tell us your story.
There was quite a bit of talk this week in my classes and reading about overrepresentation. It got me thinking about what that means, both socially and personally. This week’s prompt is looking at overrepresentation from a personal view.
The timer was set for 10 minutes.
In social science, there is an overrepresentation of some groups in research, while other groups are severely underrepresented. In some diagnostic categories, the same. That while data points mathematically approximate a normal curve, there’s more to the story.
Where in my life am I overrepresenting and underrepresenting? This is a weird hard question – where am I way too invested or not invested enough? Not quite what I’m asking. There’s a theoretical bent to this, but what about lived experience – what about my life and story? What is overrepresented?
There’s a general happiness that is often overrepresented, a friend recently telling me that my Facebook status updated feeling like I have it all together. I do… and I don’t. Always the mixed bag, but I split that bag, tie up the not so pretty parts and hide them under the bed. Those parts don’t need to have stilts on the bed anymore, crushing me to the ceiling – rather, they chatter among themselves, knowing I won’t pull them out if I can help it.
And yet, that underrepresentation affects the whole.
Where in my life am I spending so much time? And why? There are times I think that there’s always a reason – I dig, deeper – want to know. Curiosity deep in my veins, the urge to search, research, learn, one of those overrepresentations I tend to value. What are all the pieces to the story? When do I let things rest in their own isness, to let it be without picking, prodding, pulling back layers?
And I feel Curiosity rise up, wanting to know what’s undeneath, that that’s where we get to the juicy stories of life and how we live it. Sometimes, we aren’t yet ready. Sometimes, we need a bit more space. Sometimes, it gets crowded and I want to stop searching for every answer, to rest in the center of the question, not knowing.
Let the bubbles rise to the surface, to come in its own time without rushing.