Juan David Ladino Cardenas

Professor Deby Jizi

UWRIT1103-036
September 23, 2015
Self-Authorship Essay
I am reserved. Yes, reserved is the nice word people use to describe me when they cannot
figure out the more interesting parts of myself. I say nice word for a particular reason.
Damnant quod non intelligunt. They curse what they do not understand. This is why I do not let
them on about too much about myself. That is the lesson I learned through the years of placing
my hand upon the hot stove more times than justifiable by naivet. What I have done is most
certainly better described as stupidity.
Yes, I was stupid. I am stupid. But I am also a little more careful in how I apply my
stupidity. My younger self was far too reckless with his stupidity. Too reckless with his
seemingly endless capacity for love and joy. My younger self was so unaware that it pains me
now to own up to the things I have done. I am regretful. I fear much and I find very little comfort
in my own assurances and avid declarations of fatalism. I put up a wall around myself because I
fear criticism for the parts of me over which I have very little control. As Mark Twain wrote,
Better to be thought an idiot than to open ones mouth and remove all doubt.
Yes, I am fearful because I am animalistic and impulsive. That has not changed between
my younger self and how I am now. I put up a wall around myself so that I might observe who
cares enough to try to knock it down. Those individuals are few, but to them I am fiercely loyal.
Many things did not changed much between my younger self and my current self. Sometimes, in
the case of loyalty and love, this is good. Other times, possibly not as much. However, I can say
with some degree of relief that much has changed. I am not as reckless with my loyalty and love.
I am just a modicum wiser. I am more analytical. I am more reserved. Yes, I am reserved because
I have to be. I am reserved because doing so gives me the hide that coats one from pain.
Conversely, almost tragically, it also coats you from love and it cannot do anything for the pain

that originates from within. Yes, I am reserved because that is the lesson I have learnt. You never
show yourself too much, never reveal too much. Always stay one step ahead of your peers, for
the moment they think they have you figured out and cornered, you leave them dumbfounded
and you chuckle Do you not think this is what I had planned all along? That is how you build
your armor. That is how you make yourself invincible.
Yes, I can be invincible. This is what my younger self taught me. I can have peace.
Inner Harmony. This is what my former self taught me. This is what my mother taught me. I
remember my mothers old Honda Accord, beige in color and already ten years old by the time it
came under our possession, a little while before we moved to North Carolina. My mother taught
me lessons that car. A regular tradition come around Sunday was to eat ice cream in the car, the
old Accord, usually after having walked around the park. By then I was young enough that I
soaked in whatever my mother told me, usually without objection. By then my mothers disease
had made it difficult for her to walk, but she was up and active nonetheless. Doctors in America
and Colombia had told her that disease would not have ravaged her systems the way it did had
she lived a more tranquil life. My earliest memories of my mother were her as a short tempered,
ever so explosive wreck. These days, eating ice in the car, she was calm. She was at peace. Wed
park behind the Baskin Robins, and Id munch on my Chocolate Mint cone, staring at the
chipped sidewalks. My mother would turn to me and say in conservative Spanish, Son, there is
nothing better in life that to be at peace. Youll waste away so much of your youth stressing over
circumstances which will matter oh so very little years from now that you barely realize the
passing of the time. It is silly. It is irrational. Dont you ever let your circumstances take over
you, you hear? You will always find a way. This is what my mother taught me.
Yes, my mother planted that seed in my head. But a seed is not a plant, it is its origin. A
plant needs water, and fertile soil upon which to grow. My mother made me believe Inner

Harmony was a very good value. My experiences in high school made me value it the most. I
believe valuing something constitutes knowing what you are without it. If youve always had
something, obviously you take it for granted and you care very little. Likewise, to fully
appreciate everything something means to you, you must have that something presently,
currently, otherwise youre simply reminiscing about the good ole days. High school was not
these good ole days. My high school days were very much the thing that made me appreciate
Inner Harmony so much because I was without it for so long.
Yes, I was without harmony. See, I went to a very conservative Southern Baptist school
were much of the day was spent in a very dull, play/study/pray/ pattern. The self-appointed
purveyors of morality were quick to invoke the wrath of God as reason to never do anything that
might offend their particular tastes. These people were teachers of mine. Classmates of mine.
Friends. Friend whom would continually remind me that something I was doing was wrong; that
I held the wrong belief; that God was equal parts love and wrath and that you ought to fear one
as much as you relish in the other. How is one supposed to be at peace with ones self when the
message permeating throughout the halls and classrooms was, You are wrong. You are making a
mistake! You begin to second guess everything you do. Is this right or are my senses
misleading me? Am I the only sane one, or the only one so damaged he doesnt realize it? You
cannot have Inner Harmony whilst the society you make yourself a part of, the people youve
chosen to spend these four years with, are in continued disapproval of the things you do.
Eventually you stop caring. You stop asking them for advice or seeking their wisdom. If you
are dumb, as was I back then, you will even overcompensate, taking things to a rather extreme.
Oh you think this is bad? You should see what I do on the weekends! Eventually you will find
balance. You stop and think to yourself, Wait. These people dont make me happy. They dont
bring me peace or joy or love. Simply criticism. Why do I even care what they say? Theyve

never done anything for my wellbeing but chastise me for something miniscule and then patting
themselves on the back for taking the moral high ground. Now, understand that when I say all
this I dont mean to say that I disagree with them philosophically or theologically, but rather, I
argue that their approach to ministry had some rough, and sometimes sharp, edges. Truly, I hate
them. But I cannot complain entirely, they did something right. They taught me my mother was
right after all. There is indeed nothing better than to be left in peace and to be at peace with
yourself.
Yes, this is what the purveyors taught me. Unfortunately with them, I found nothing
good. And it reflects in what they think of me. In Rebecca and Cass, my former English teacher
and best friend respectively, I found the opposite. And the difference in what I think of the two
groups is as stark as what they think of me. One might tell you I am hell bound. The other might
tell you I am not, for how could God send to hell someone as capable of as much love as I? One
might tell you Im manipulative, abrasive, heartless, calculating. Unfortunately the other might
agrees at times. All except Cass. The poor girl will go down in flames before she lets anyone say
that about me, however true it might ring. This sends an impactful message however. Whilst the
world might believe there is nothing redeeming about me, Cass always will. This keeps me
grounded. This gives me hope. Of all the messages Id ever want to receive, Casss almost
indomitable declarations of absolute love are the only ones that tell me I might be capable of
good. That there is something redeemable able about me.
Yes, I can be good. This is the message people demonstrate towards me. Even the critics
would not waste their breath if they didnt believe I had the power to be the person I chose to be.
My mother, Cass, Rebecca, everyone around me insinuated the same. And in return I developed
an immense capacity to love them back. Cass will tell you that this is my greatest character
strength. And for good reason, after all, it was my ability to love Cass, and hers to love me,

which saved us both when we were on the brink. See, the pain becomes too much at times. You
find a way to make it go away. One might find all sorts of creative activities to drive away the
burning pain, the boredom. Or you might have a taste of that and decide it isnt for you. What
good does that do you? Youre back to square one. Or, if God be so kind, you might find
someone who understands you almost as deeply as you understand yourself, and whom loves
you as if you were an extension of themselves. Suddenly, you need nothing else to stand unfazed
before the bad weather. You only need the strength that flows from within, the strength to rely
and be there for someone. And even if the pain becomes too great, you need only the strength to
look at the person you love and muster the will to keep going. Yes, I love to be loved as much as
I am able to love.
Yes, this is my strength. I believe it is indomitable. I believe many things. I believe I had
to make the choice to get smart about myself. I believe the best things in life come the hardest. I
believe my life has a purpose to it, ordain by God, even if Im as yet unable to understand all that
this entails. I believe if I were to understand everything I come across, this life would quickly
become boring. I was bored before and so I wanted to quit the game. But I believe I cannot. I
believe there is too much at stake. I believe it is up to everyone to find their calling in life and to
judge how high the stakes are. I believe the stakes are always infinite and the worries
infinitesimal. More than that, I believe I believe the things that I do out of pure luck. Everything
has come together, woven a certain way, which ultimately lead me down the paths that Ive
taken. I believe that was the hand of God, and when I ask Him why I only see one set of
footprints in the sand, I believe He will respond, Those are mine of I have carried you. I
believe Ill never understand everything and I believe that is a good thing. I believe total
understanding is a curse not meant for mere humanity. More than anything, I believe the game
will have been worth playing, in the end.

Yes, that is what I believe. I wouldnt have known that had I not taken the time to pour
my heart out. As much time as I spent wondering why I am the way I was and now, having
written everything I understand about myself, it all becomes so clear. I had always figured
myself to be a very logical person, so naturally, I was pleased with the symmetry, the progression
of my writing. I becomes so clear to me I can almost reach out and touch it. I have always known
who I am, being the introspective type. Yet somehow, watching it be put into words and
subsequently read out loud, I cannot help but feel a sense of nostalgia. Already, I miss not fully
knowing why I am the way I am. That being said, the answer to that piece of philosophy is a long
and arduous journey. I am simply one step closer, not that Ill ever get to my end goal in time.
Yes, this is what I take away. This what makes me invincible. Being one step ahead of everyone
else. Including myself.