Metacognitive reflection

I am a procrastinator. That said, I do have the best of intentions to, try and be, more proactive, yet it is very easy to find excuses in not being so. When I left class for home on Friday, my intention was to get my reading and journal entry done before having to pick up my two youngest children. Well that didn't happen due to, one, me being extremely hungry, and secondly, my girlfriend wanted to play hooky with me and go eat somewhere at Santana Row.

So as you can see, I can be easily swayed by food and my woman. But, luckily for me, I am really enjoying the assigned reading and can find time throughout my day. Even with four children, who almost always, well at least one, needs my attention. I try to engage them when I have moments. But like everyone, I need time to myself, not to nurture kids, or make dinner, or do homework, or to transport someone from one place to another. At times I will go to pick up my two youngest and will sit outside the daycare in my car for about 30 minutes, and read, or do some type of homework. I also find certain moments in the day or night, when my small condo is jammed with all six of us trying to find a space to chill or do school work. So, yes, at times, I must lock myself in our only bathroom, and, yes, read and take care of business.

But the most convenient time for me to read, is when everyone else is asleep and then I can get some pages turned, but, that tends so induce sleep for yours truly. Well, can you blame me? The place is quiet. No T.V. Nobody asking me for food or to watch them play a video game, or any of the millions of things that can be required of me and any given moment. So, what usually happens, is I fall asleep with book on my chest, and that is how I wake in the morning, usually and hour or more before I really need to arise, and can get some serious reading done.

That is, only if I remembered to have my coffee ready the night before. Which if did, I usually do, I am fully vested in the novel. This seems to be the best time for me to read. If I try while the condo is active, kids home, I tend to drift from what I am doing, therefore, causing me to re-read a passage several times. This is never beneficial, almost a waste of time.

What I need to do is get in a routine during the week, before my herd of kids come home from school, and read and do homework at the library. If I can institute this strategy, soon, I should be able to catch up in my other classes, and to help ensure that I produce my best work as opposed to a rushed product that will embarrass me.

Character Description

When I first started reading the graphic novel, Persepolis: The Story of a Childhood, Marjane Satrapi, I was immediately fascinated at the maturity of the lead character at such a young age, yet, she could still maintain a child like innocence. She had early dreams of being a prophet. In fact, she developed a list of rules that tells you all you need to know about her ambitious and zealous desire to be the savior of her people. At age six. As she describes on pages six through seven her reasons and her book and rules, I learned that she is a child with an old soul.

"At the age of six I was already sure I was the last prophet." This is where she describes the reasons why she wants this, "I wanted to be a prophet...because, my father had a Cadillac. And, above all, because my Grandmother's knees always ached." The two reasons indicate that she is simultaneously materialistic yet very aware of the suffering of her beloved Grandma.

Her holy book consisted of rules, just like all religious scriptures, to live by. They range from rules taken from other books, filed with moral instructions, to the absurd rule number six, everybody should have a car, to the sympathetic, no old person should suffer.

My mother never...

...saw me truly happy. Not to say as a child that I wasn't mostly happy. I might have been, but not before, during and after her divorce from my dad. She spent the majority of my late childhood going from job to job, man to man. And I went to several different schools, never really having close friends of a social life.

I left home when I was 18, I joined the Air Force in 1986. And for the next 24 plus years my life were filled with angst, anger, resentment, self-loathing, conflicting, and most of all, an innate ability to not understand what love is. In particular, true, unconditional love.

I found resolution with some over the years. I have four beautiful children that have help restore my faith and have taught me what unconditional love is. But it wasn't until I was reunited with a girl from my past that I have truly had a transformation into a person who now is filled with hope, and that I know have a positive outlook on life.

Yet it wasn't until my mother discovered that I love to write, and that I started to write poetry to express my thoughts, and feelings towards those that affect my life daily, and as a reflection of how I have changed as a son, man, father, lover and friend.

Feeling
I found myself swept away,
unable to concentrate,
I noticed I did not mind this.
This feeling of life that I have found
I have come to love this life,
and the one who has given it meaning.

I am....

...David Bethune. I moved to San Jose in January of this year, with the intention of giving myself and my children a better life, and as well as being closer to Michelle. I have gained a better understanding of love, God, and myself, as a man, father, and friend.

This is my first year at SJCC. I am going to college for my bachelors degree in business. I retired from the US Air Force 5 years ago. I have four children, two in middle school, and two in daycare/preschool. I am in the midst of an ugly custody battle so that also takes up a lot of time. But, I am undaunted, and very determined to receive my degree as soon as humanly possible. I am currently taking 14 credits and next year I plan on taking at least 5 classes.

I love to write. I have a need to express my experiences as a means of therapy. I have gone through a lot of challenges over the last few years. Specifically my divorce, custody battle, and at times, my time spent in a war zone. I have also developed into a poet of sorts. And that has come from a once in a life time re-encounter with my girlfriend from 1985. The story itself is quite remarkable. The feelings that I gained from her has helped me to open up new avenues of expression and love. Her name is Michelle, and other than my children, she is the love of my life.