I have been toying with the idea of working on a few pieces of my writing and moving towards having them published. Sometimes I think about the first chapter of the book that I have written and wonder if I should sit back down with it and continue through it. At least to begin thinking about the characters again and mentally allowing them to develop.
I have also toyed with the idea of allowing the process of my poetry to be displayed here. I haven't quite gotten that far yet, though. Poetry is a little too intimate for me to feel one hundred percent ready to post them here. It is a little bit different with the final product, or at least something that is relatively together. Sometimes poetry comes out together, needing only little work. But other times, when you push for it, it doesn't always come out quite right the first time around. These are the pieces which I shy away from sharing. That or it is simply far too personal. I'm not sure what it is about words which impact me enough to only share certain ones. Well, I have an idea of why some of it is that way.
The question I've been balancing, though, is how far I want to push myself with it.
Until then, I thought I'd put a few entries in my writers notebook down here. Some may have already unfolded into posts that are here, others may come in their due time, and others may remain, ready and waiting for the muse to hit me.
The collision of cultures
Relatively clean varsity team
moral maturity
don't cool off, I like your warmth.
I try to tell my head to try to tell my heart
Another example of bus throwing.
The history of my dreams.
No time for showers when you're writing about Higher Education
Cooler than the flip side of my pillow
The honest cries of breaking hearts are better than a hallelujah
So that I can finally see where you go when you're gone.
You sit in the garden, clutching my coffee, calling me sugar.
It's not about how we do things, it's about how we think about things.
I'm suffering from time poverty.
We're only half way past the point of no return.
Test tube toilets
Even when my door changes location.
My throat hurts from not telling.
Predictably irrational.
My job is based on the whims of 17 year-olds
Frustration is bread from passion
Headline as headaches
assault my eyes
The spiritual journey almost always involves traveling companions.
The concept of mothering many through how you live your life verses mothering (instead) the children you have.
How ethics connects to passion.
Odious
If change takes a great deal of time, why then do we struggle when we experience change?
I miss the sound of your voice.
You may recognize some of these as song lyrics, one even came from a commercial. Mostly, though, they come from every day conversations, class discussions, and the every day elements that fill my life.
If you're out there reading this, please feel free to take anything that might have grabbed hold of you and run with it. Go write. Think. Enjoy. Words are an amazing thing, cherish them.
Since you see me, here, reflecting upon and looking into these little gems, chances are good that poetry is coming. Or, prose. Perhaps a short story. Something has slowly been building. But finals are also here. Either long streaks of creative writing is about to explode or a spell of academia will consume me. It could be both. Feel free to stay tuned.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Tonight's music post
Sometimes we need music. Nothing else will work, will feed that need that we can't quite put our finger on. Or, rather, know exactly where to place our finger yet nothing settles what is unsettled within you. This is where music can come and heal.
This Road by Jars of Clay (click the title to listen)
All heavy laden acquainted with sorrow
may Christ in our marrow, carry us home.
From alabaster come blessings of laughter
A fragrance of passion and joy from the truth
Grant the unbroken tears ever flowing
From hearts of contrition only for You
May sin never hold true that love never broke through
For God's mercy holds us and we are His own
This road that we travel, may it be the straight and narrow
God give us peace and grace from You, all the day
Shelter with fire, our voices we raise still higher
God give us peace and grace from You, all the day through
This Road by Jars of Clay (click the title to listen)
All heavy laden acquainted with sorrow
may Christ in our marrow, carry us home.
From alabaster come blessings of laughter
A fragrance of passion and joy from the truth
Grant the unbroken tears ever flowing
From hearts of contrition only for You
May sin never hold true that love never broke through
For God's mercy holds us and we are His own
This road that we travel, may it be the straight and narrow
God give us peace and grace from You, all the day
Shelter with fire, our voices we raise still higher
God give us peace and grace from You, all the day through
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Impact
I find it amazing how significant of an impact one person's words can have on you.
"I feel blessed to have a friend like you."
It has been a tough week, not bad, just tough. We have them sometimes, it is just how life works. I truly believe, though, that they are a lot of what makes us who we are.
How do you respond when you are told that people are talking behind your back?
A lot of our life comes down to what we are willing to fight for. I have been writing here about passion, standing up for something, the chaos amongst the world and our presence through each aspect of it.
What are you willing to fight for? Do you know? Do you know what you would give up your life for? Or for whom? Would you give your life to save a stranger's? What about a child?
We watched some clips in one of my classes this past week. I was moved deeply by some of the footage I saw. I think that it is one thing to read about or even talk about, on a simple level, something which happened a long time ago. Maybe the story touches us lightly, but something about seeing a black woman walk to school while being followed by the majority of the white people in town, all of who are tormenting her all along the way, does much more than listening to the story through a class lecture. We also saw a man attempting to walk to class who was physically being beaten along the way. And neither fought back. They did not fight back. Not once. Not in the slightest.
I have been in a situation where I quite literally felt like I was fighting for my life. The woman who I was sparring (sparring is a controlled fight. It is an elaborate game of tag. While the possibility of injury is present, the intention for injury should not be. Control is a key element in sparring) a woman who was also a second degree black belt from a different school. She was upset because her contact lens fell out within the first few seconds of the match. I'm not sure if this sparked a temper or if she simply had poor technique and lack of control. Either way, and to make a long story short, she fought me using full contact (hitting me as hard as she possibly could), and the ref chose not to call her on excessive contact. I can take a hit. You don't practice martial arts for several years without learning how to take a hit in a way that minimizes impact. By the end of the match, I had two purple eyes, a black and blue ridge of my nose, and severe damage to my neck. She punched me at the base of the head, right along the first vertebra. This is what we call a vital spot. It is not permitted in sparring (or ever). If you hit it, even without significant force, you will kill the person. I am not sure how I am not dead. And I am not sure how I am walking still today. But what I am sure of is the feeling I had while in the ring. They say that when it comes down to it, your body and brain reaches a point where it must decide between fight or flight. I had chosen fight. But here is what I do not understand: I never hit her even just one time, within the entire match, with uncontrolled force. I was winning the match, hitting her between 3-5 times per her every one hit to me. Yet she left uninjured.
How is it that our body and mind will come to a point where we must choose between fight or flight and yet we skate along somewhere in the middle? When I had paramedics around me and the ref came and asked me if I was done with the match, it probably took me a full minute to respond. In my head I kept repeating over and over again that I just have to finish the match, I just had to get through until they yell "time". It'll be over soon, I just have to get through it. I was in fight mode, but I refuse to hurt the woman who I felt was trying to kill me.
As I watched the man who was hit in the head with a brick, he did not show any emotion on his face. He did not fight back. He did not speak. He showed no visible reaction.
This leads me in two directions: 1) the concept of being in that situation and not returning the hurt and 2) the idea of being in that situation where you desire to purposely cause harm to another being.
I will start with the second.
What does it take to want to kill someone? This is not a concept that I understand. I do believe that there are out-of-this-world possibilities in some instances-- satan is a very real and powerful being. I want to move beyond the concept of murder though, and elements along that line. I want to know what has happened, what has been done for someone to feel so strongly about something like a person who has brown or black skin entering a high school or college with people who have 'white' skin that they feel the need or a deep enough desire to act upon their internal reaction and physically beat that person. I cannot imagine what it is like to beat someone. Do you not see the pain spread across their face? Do you not see the pain radiate throughout their body? Have you not felt pain yourself?
What have we done in our world to show that this is an okay thing to do? How does living through watching situations like this, be it watching slaves being beating as you grew up, your mother or siblings being beaten by someone, whatever the situation might be, make you act out in that manner? I know that there are psychological elements which come into play with this. But what I don't understand is coming unto a situation where you UNDERSTAND what it is like to be beaten or to witness abuse and then turn around, disregarding the turmoil you have experienced, which comes with the understanding, and do that same thing to someone else-- regardless of if you know them or not.
We talk about nature verses nurture and all of these crazy elements in attempts to explain why we are the way we are or how we come to be who we are and the list goes on and on and on and on. Regardless, how does it come to this? This was not a situation where the lives those who were causing the harm were in danger.
And I wonder, what must it be like to do something like throw a brick at another human's head, with the intent to harm, and watch them take the abuse and not fight back? What is it like to see someone simply take the abuse and externally not do a single thing in response?
I know what it is like to not do something in response, but I do not know what it is like to be on the other end.
I can think of instances where I have put myself in positions so that if the possibility of whatever tragic event I see could possibly play out would have its greatest impact on me rather than say the pedestrians who are crossing the street. Perhaps this is part of what leads me to the questions I have been asking here.
I have switched, now, into the first of the two concepts-- being in the situation where another is causing you harm and choosing not to fight back. I do not wish to go into detail, so I will not, but I have been in this situation many times. I understand that my choices through which has made a significant impact on who I am today.
I cannot understand it, but through time and, I believe, practice there comes a point where while someone is verbally stabbing you with a knife or even physically harming you, where you realize and can see, intimately, what is behind their attack. The root to what has brought them to this point. Many times it only has partially to do with you, the one receiving the attack, if at all. There is something within that seeing, the understanding, the somehow intuitively knowing that you are able to not fight back. Or even responding with what they truly need rather than respond to what they are externally showing you.
I suppose this internal, intuitive understanding I am speaking of here could ultimately answer the second concept I have talked about above. Through seeing into them, beyond the hurt that they are causing, there is a somehow understood root of just what it was that brought them there. Or, at the very least, what it is that they need within that moment to help them see beyond the desire to inflict pain upon another.
I tie this back now to the passion, frustration and chaos that I have spoken of in my previous entries. There is no single sever reaction (and I do see it as a reaction) like those that I am speaking of, which happen without the elements that come when we have thoroughly surpassed frustration. The passion that is so deeply seeded within has a great deal to do with the external actions.
With a deep passion, though, also comes a deep need to be understood, valued and through which respected. When these things feel as though they have been violated, great things come as a consequence. I ask, more than anything else, what it is that you do with your desired reaction?
When you know that many people are and have been talking behind your back, how do you react?
You've already expressed who you are, why you are the way you are, and an openness for feedback.
When your passion is placed into jeopardy, or disrespected, it is easy to react-- to want to sling blades of the tongue, or in the situation of the video that we watched, a brick to the black man's head simply for being him.
I do not believe in these things. I have somehow come to understand them, to know that there is something more, internally, happening, but I do not believe in them.
But what I have started this entry with is the concept of how powerful the words from a single person can be. Do you remember the moments when someone shared something with you that you needed more than you realized? Have you ever felt invalidated in who you are or a passion that you have? Think also of what it was like when someone said something which calmed those fears, soothed the pain and reminded you that who you are is what I need.
I thank you for giving that to me.
As difficult as it is to understand the reason, the spark which light the fire, the deeply rooted happenings which have led to hurting another, so it can be equally, yes equally, difficult to share how positively someone has impacted your life, even within one moment. Or how much you care about someone.
I ask you and have all the hope to empower you to share with others how you feel and how they have impacted your life, regularly. It is difficult, but so often too we make their world right again by doing so. And more often than not, we do not have the slightest idea as to how much we helped them, through our sharing how they have helped us. And more than anything else, we never know when we may or may not have the chance to share the things that we have thought but have not spoken with them.
Thank you for what you have done for me. And for any of you who have opened up, thank you for sharing pieces of what I have done for you.
"I feel blessed to have a friend like you."
It has been a tough week, not bad, just tough. We have them sometimes, it is just how life works. I truly believe, though, that they are a lot of what makes us who we are.
How do you respond when you are told that people are talking behind your back?
A lot of our life comes down to what we are willing to fight for. I have been writing here about passion, standing up for something, the chaos amongst the world and our presence through each aspect of it.
What are you willing to fight for? Do you know? Do you know what you would give up your life for? Or for whom? Would you give your life to save a stranger's? What about a child?
We watched some clips in one of my classes this past week. I was moved deeply by some of the footage I saw. I think that it is one thing to read about or even talk about, on a simple level, something which happened a long time ago. Maybe the story touches us lightly, but something about seeing a black woman walk to school while being followed by the majority of the white people in town, all of who are tormenting her all along the way, does much more than listening to the story through a class lecture. We also saw a man attempting to walk to class who was physically being beaten along the way. And neither fought back. They did not fight back. Not once. Not in the slightest.
I have been in a situation where I quite literally felt like I was fighting for my life. The woman who I was sparring (sparring is a controlled fight. It is an elaborate game of tag. While the possibility of injury is present, the intention for injury should not be. Control is a key element in sparring) a woman who was also a second degree black belt from a different school. She was upset because her contact lens fell out within the first few seconds of the match. I'm not sure if this sparked a temper or if she simply had poor technique and lack of control. Either way, and to make a long story short, she fought me using full contact (hitting me as hard as she possibly could), and the ref chose not to call her on excessive contact. I can take a hit. You don't practice martial arts for several years without learning how to take a hit in a way that minimizes impact. By the end of the match, I had two purple eyes, a black and blue ridge of my nose, and severe damage to my neck. She punched me at the base of the head, right along the first vertebra. This is what we call a vital spot. It is not permitted in sparring (or ever). If you hit it, even without significant force, you will kill the person. I am not sure how I am not dead. And I am not sure how I am walking still today. But what I am sure of is the feeling I had while in the ring. They say that when it comes down to it, your body and brain reaches a point where it must decide between fight or flight. I had chosen fight. But here is what I do not understand: I never hit her even just one time, within the entire match, with uncontrolled force. I was winning the match, hitting her between 3-5 times per her every one hit to me. Yet she left uninjured.
How is it that our body and mind will come to a point where we must choose between fight or flight and yet we skate along somewhere in the middle? When I had paramedics around me and the ref came and asked me if I was done with the match, it probably took me a full minute to respond. In my head I kept repeating over and over again that I just have to finish the match, I just had to get through until they yell "time". It'll be over soon, I just have to get through it. I was in fight mode, but I refuse to hurt the woman who I felt was trying to kill me.
As I watched the man who was hit in the head with a brick, he did not show any emotion on his face. He did not fight back. He did not speak. He showed no visible reaction.
This leads me in two directions: 1) the concept of being in that situation and not returning the hurt and 2) the idea of being in that situation where you desire to purposely cause harm to another being.
I will start with the second.
What does it take to want to kill someone? This is not a concept that I understand. I do believe that there are out-of-this-world possibilities in some instances-- satan is a very real and powerful being. I want to move beyond the concept of murder though, and elements along that line. I want to know what has happened, what has been done for someone to feel so strongly about something like a person who has brown or black skin entering a high school or college with people who have 'white' skin that they feel the need or a deep enough desire to act upon their internal reaction and physically beat that person. I cannot imagine what it is like to beat someone. Do you not see the pain spread across their face? Do you not see the pain radiate throughout their body? Have you not felt pain yourself?
What have we done in our world to show that this is an okay thing to do? How does living through watching situations like this, be it watching slaves being beating as you grew up, your mother or siblings being beaten by someone, whatever the situation might be, make you act out in that manner? I know that there are psychological elements which come into play with this. But what I don't understand is coming unto a situation where you UNDERSTAND what it is like to be beaten or to witness abuse and then turn around, disregarding the turmoil you have experienced, which comes with the understanding, and do that same thing to someone else-- regardless of if you know them or not.
We talk about nature verses nurture and all of these crazy elements in attempts to explain why we are the way we are or how we come to be who we are and the list goes on and on and on and on. Regardless, how does it come to this? This was not a situation where the lives those who were causing the harm were in danger.
And I wonder, what must it be like to do something like throw a brick at another human's head, with the intent to harm, and watch them take the abuse and not fight back? What is it like to see someone simply take the abuse and externally not do a single thing in response?
I know what it is like to not do something in response, but I do not know what it is like to be on the other end.
I can think of instances where I have put myself in positions so that if the possibility of whatever tragic event I see could possibly play out would have its greatest impact on me rather than say the pedestrians who are crossing the street. Perhaps this is part of what leads me to the questions I have been asking here.
I have switched, now, into the first of the two concepts-- being in the situation where another is causing you harm and choosing not to fight back. I do not wish to go into detail, so I will not, but I have been in this situation many times. I understand that my choices through which has made a significant impact on who I am today.
I cannot understand it, but through time and, I believe, practice there comes a point where while someone is verbally stabbing you with a knife or even physically harming you, where you realize and can see, intimately, what is behind their attack. The root to what has brought them to this point. Many times it only has partially to do with you, the one receiving the attack, if at all. There is something within that seeing, the understanding, the somehow intuitively knowing that you are able to not fight back. Or even responding with what they truly need rather than respond to what they are externally showing you.
I suppose this internal, intuitive understanding I am speaking of here could ultimately answer the second concept I have talked about above. Through seeing into them, beyond the hurt that they are causing, there is a somehow understood root of just what it was that brought them there. Or, at the very least, what it is that they need within that moment to help them see beyond the desire to inflict pain upon another.
I tie this back now to the passion, frustration and chaos that I have spoken of in my previous entries. There is no single sever reaction (and I do see it as a reaction) like those that I am speaking of, which happen without the elements that come when we have thoroughly surpassed frustration. The passion that is so deeply seeded within has a great deal to do with the external actions.
With a deep passion, though, also comes a deep need to be understood, valued and through which respected. When these things feel as though they have been violated, great things come as a consequence. I ask, more than anything else, what it is that you do with your desired reaction?
When you know that many people are and have been talking behind your back, how do you react?
You've already expressed who you are, why you are the way you are, and an openness for feedback.
When your passion is placed into jeopardy, or disrespected, it is easy to react-- to want to sling blades of the tongue, or in the situation of the video that we watched, a brick to the black man's head simply for being him.
I do not believe in these things. I have somehow come to understand them, to know that there is something more, internally, happening, but I do not believe in them.
But what I have started this entry with is the concept of how powerful the words from a single person can be. Do you remember the moments when someone shared something with you that you needed more than you realized? Have you ever felt invalidated in who you are or a passion that you have? Think also of what it was like when someone said something which calmed those fears, soothed the pain and reminded you that who you are is what I need.
I thank you for giving that to me.
As difficult as it is to understand the reason, the spark which light the fire, the deeply rooted happenings which have led to hurting another, so it can be equally, yes equally, difficult to share how positively someone has impacted your life, even within one moment. Or how much you care about someone.
I ask you and have all the hope to empower you to share with others how you feel and how they have impacted your life, regularly. It is difficult, but so often too we make their world right again by doing so. And more often than not, we do not have the slightest idea as to how much we helped them, through our sharing how they have helped us. And more than anything else, we never know when we may or may not have the chance to share the things that we have thought but have not spoken with them.
Thank you for what you have done for me. And for any of you who have opened up, thank you for sharing pieces of what I have done for you.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Writing about writing
I must start with a side note-- I hate, with a passion, yes hate, h-a-t-e when you learn things on facebook that you should never, ever learn first from facebook. Don't tell me something bad has happened to someone I really care about via your status. Pick up the phone and call me first. Yes, "it is a good way to get the word out quick" but it also does a world of hurt to the heart to find out that way. On the phone, you can ask questions. You can feel comfort from the person you are talking with. You can even cry together, if you need to. Or, at the very least, be concerned together, in shock, not talk about it together, whatever the situation calls for. Finding out on facebook only makes you feel more isolated. Yes, sometimes its REALLY hard to give people news, but at least text it. Yes, yes, I know that texting it is not the most ideal way to go about it, but you can still converse over text. There is lag on telling people via facebook status. Just. don't. do. it.
Okay, side note done-- my apologies.
I have, in all honesty, come to write here several times throughout the past couple (which feels like several) days. Sometimes opening up a new post, not even striking a key before I end up closing it again. Other times writing part of a sentence and then closing again. Still others, writing a decent amount but not wanting to finish and not quite wanting to share it publicly just yet.
There is a need for time to process. Many of my posts are loaded. I would be lying if I said that this is not how my mind works. If you have read even just one or two of my posts here, you more than likely have figured out that what comes out in words is what is inside of me regularly. Although this is true, this does not mean that I always want it there with such intensity. It is a part of me, though. Somehow, I am just it's keeper. Sometimes, though, being the keeper is too much and I must rest.
With rest comes a building need. Although I am not writing, I might be sorting through thoughts mentally-- they are nearly interchangeable for me. But this too becomes too much at times. The mind, perhaps the spirit too, requires rest and time to let the concepts and questions to fall away before we feel ready to pick them back up again. This is where I have been most recently.
I say that this is where the beauty of the writer's notebook comes into play. I have been jotting down things like a fiend! Which is also why I have come so many times to write here yet have not fully done so until just now. Regardless, I have all of these thoughts, gems, stowed away in my notebook, ready for me to pull them out and deal with them, put on my cap as keeper again, and express them through word.
I have to also say that this time away from reflection is not an easy time period, not just because the thoughts and the internal need to continue to process and discover does not go away, but also because the NOT dealing also cause a sense of unrest. Restlessness.
Have you ever found yourself realizing that you are in some sort of funk only to then realize that you don't really know why you are in that funk? That is how I get. I realize that I have a lot of wrestling going on inside, thoughts and perhaps feelings I have not taken the time to deal with.
I am not quite ready to deal with all of them yet, but I have to say that that is okay. That is another interesting element in it all. Certain things we have to deal with, process. It will consume us if we do not. But, luckily, magically, we do not always have to deal with all of them all of the time or right at that particular moment in time. "Compartmentalizing", it can be healthy and unhealthy. Quite simply, I have found myself on both ends of the spectrum. I would be surprised to find anyone who has not.
And although this is the place I seem to have been finding myself within the past couple of days, last night, dead tired and attempting to stay awake long enough to get into bed, I pulled out my journal (hand written) and poured out a poem I didn't know I had flowing around in me.
You would think that after about twenty-one years of writing (I'm 24 now), I would have this concept that writing is central to who I am figured out a bit more. I am not quite sure how I don't seem to fully comprehend that fact. It is almost as though I rediscover it every single time I sit down and suddenly have pages upon pages of writing, so much so that I regularly find myself in disbelief at how readily it all came pouring out. Maybe that is some of the beauty of it too; I forget that I "can write". Truthfully, the idea of sharing my writing with someone else, even someone I trust completely and know I will not judge me at all, is remarkably intimidating for me. Which is interesting to also know that this blog is 100% public-- I even have the link on my facebook page. (I think starting this blog was partly a means to push myself to get my writing out in a space where others can 'read' that part of who I am again.)
I find that it is different when someone else starts up a conversation about my writing. I like hearing what others think, a lot actually. But because of many things long ago, I fear what that reaction will be. Expression should be something to feel secure about and to take pride in. What the tricky part is, is that it is so deeply personal. But I have decided to be okay with that. I want, at least a few, people to read what I write. I want to continuously push myself to keep showing new sides of myself through writing. I enjoy having it come up randomly in conversation and I enjoy hearing what others think of what I speak through my writing. There is always wondering when we put something out there.
And, yet again, I have to say that I came to write about something remarkably different than what I have placed here. That's okay, the thoughts are in my head, they will be here soon :)
Okay, side note done-- my apologies.
I have, in all honesty, come to write here several times throughout the past couple (which feels like several) days. Sometimes opening up a new post, not even striking a key before I end up closing it again. Other times writing part of a sentence and then closing again. Still others, writing a decent amount but not wanting to finish and not quite wanting to share it publicly just yet.
There is a need for time to process. Many of my posts are loaded. I would be lying if I said that this is not how my mind works. If you have read even just one or two of my posts here, you more than likely have figured out that what comes out in words is what is inside of me regularly. Although this is true, this does not mean that I always want it there with such intensity. It is a part of me, though. Somehow, I am just it's keeper. Sometimes, though, being the keeper is too much and I must rest.
With rest comes a building need. Although I am not writing, I might be sorting through thoughts mentally-- they are nearly interchangeable for me. But this too becomes too much at times. The mind, perhaps the spirit too, requires rest and time to let the concepts and questions to fall away before we feel ready to pick them back up again. This is where I have been most recently.
I say that this is where the beauty of the writer's notebook comes into play. I have been jotting down things like a fiend! Which is also why I have come so many times to write here yet have not fully done so until just now. Regardless, I have all of these thoughts, gems, stowed away in my notebook, ready for me to pull them out and deal with them, put on my cap as keeper again, and express them through word.
I have to also say that this time away from reflection is not an easy time period, not just because the thoughts and the internal need to continue to process and discover does not go away, but also because the NOT dealing also cause a sense of unrest. Restlessness.
Have you ever found yourself realizing that you are in some sort of funk only to then realize that you don't really know why you are in that funk? That is how I get. I realize that I have a lot of wrestling going on inside, thoughts and perhaps feelings I have not taken the time to deal with.
I am not quite ready to deal with all of them yet, but I have to say that that is okay. That is another interesting element in it all. Certain things we have to deal with, process. It will consume us if we do not. But, luckily, magically, we do not always have to deal with all of them all of the time or right at that particular moment in time. "Compartmentalizing", it can be healthy and unhealthy. Quite simply, I have found myself on both ends of the spectrum. I would be surprised to find anyone who has not.
And although this is the place I seem to have been finding myself within the past couple of days, last night, dead tired and attempting to stay awake long enough to get into bed, I pulled out my journal (hand written) and poured out a poem I didn't know I had flowing around in me.
You would think that after about twenty-one years of writing (I'm 24 now), I would have this concept that writing is central to who I am figured out a bit more. I am not quite sure how I don't seem to fully comprehend that fact. It is almost as though I rediscover it every single time I sit down and suddenly have pages upon pages of writing, so much so that I regularly find myself in disbelief at how readily it all came pouring out. Maybe that is some of the beauty of it too; I forget that I "can write". Truthfully, the idea of sharing my writing with someone else, even someone I trust completely and know I will not judge me at all, is remarkably intimidating for me. Which is interesting to also know that this blog is 100% public-- I even have the link on my facebook page. (I think starting this blog was partly a means to push myself to get my writing out in a space where others can 'read' that part of who I am again.)
I find that it is different when someone else starts up a conversation about my writing. I like hearing what others think, a lot actually. But because of many things long ago, I fear what that reaction will be. Expression should be something to feel secure about and to take pride in. What the tricky part is, is that it is so deeply personal. But I have decided to be okay with that. I want, at least a few, people to read what I write. I want to continuously push myself to keep showing new sides of myself through writing. I enjoy having it come up randomly in conversation and I enjoy hearing what others think of what I speak through my writing. There is always wondering when we put something out there.
And, yet again, I have to say that I came to write about something remarkably different than what I have placed here. That's okay, the thoughts are in my head, they will be here soon :)
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Worlds Apart, rolling through me
It is again that I find myself sitting here wishing to write out the thoughts in my mind via blog rather than work on the essay that is due tomorrow. It'll get done...just after this.
I put my rollerblades on with a spur of the moment desire to go for a ride. I stuck the end of my headphones into the input in my phone and started up the pandora application on it. Jars of Clay quickly rang through my ears with their song, "Worlds Apart" Lyrics are as follows:
http://www.youtube.com/watch#!v=XTq9TtnCe3g&feature=related
I am the only one to blame for this
Somehow it all ends up the same
Soaring on the wings of selfish pride
I flew too high and like Icarus I collide
With a world I try so hard to leave behind
To rid myself of all but love
to give and die
To turn away and not become
Another nail to pierce the skin of one who loves
more deeply than the oceans,
more abundant than the tears
Of a world embracing every heartache
Can I be the one to sacrifice
Or grip the spear and watch the blood and water flow
To love you - take my world apart
To need you - I am on my knees
To love you - take my world apart
To need you - broken on my knees
All said and done I stand alone
Amongst remains of a life I should not own
It takes all I am to believe
In the mercy that covers me
Did you really have to die for me?
All I am for all you are
Because what I need and what I believe are worlds apart
I look beyond the empty cross
forgetting what my life has cost
and wipe away the crimson stains
"dull the nails that still remain"
More and more I need you now,
I owe you more each passing hour
the battle between grace and pride
I gave up not so long ago
So steal my heart and take the pain
and wash the feet and cleanse my pride
take the selfish, take the weak,
and all the things I cannot hide
take the beauty, take my tears
the sin-soaked heart and make it yours
take my world all apart
take it now, take it now
and serve the ones that I despise
speak the words I can't deny
watch the world I used to love
fall to dust and thrown away
I look beyond the empty cross
forgetting what my life has cost
so wipe away the crimson stains
"dull the nails that still remains"
so steal my heart and take the pain
take the selfish, take the weak
and all the things I cannot hide
take the beauty, take my tears
take my world apart, take my world apart
I pray, I pray, I pray
take my world apart
I have to back step now.
My first year in college, a friend and I got up every week day morning at 6am and went to work out. I was training for my first degree black belt, and later nationals and she just wanted a buddy to work out with. Our schedules were opposite so 6am was the only time that worked for both of us.
Frequently, I did not go to bed until about 4am that year. We were always doing something (usually having good conversation) late at night.
Regardless, the year progressed and this is what we did. I am not overly sure how I managed to function, but somehow I did.
Fall and winter came and went and spring was finally here. I decided that I wanted to rollerblade each morning for a while instead of going to the gym to do cardio and lift. The first morning, still half asleep, I managed to make it over to Lakeview Drive which is laced by mansions, plush lawns, beautiful trees, and lake Michigan. The road winds around the lake and there is a beautiful hill sliding you down to a series of parks before it takes you into the heart of the city. As my coordination grew and as I became more awake, I reached the top of this hill and this song came on over my ipod.
The sun was rising over the water and the sky was an awe-striking series of oranges, pinks, yellows and just a hint of blue. The clouds remained long enough to greet the sun, tenderly kissing it good morning, and then became lost in the sky. The sun reflected itself in the waves of the water-- it was as though someone had scattered the top of the lake with yellow glitter.
As I flew down the hill, all eight wheels spinning fast, the ending portion of this song came on-- my favorite part of my all time favorite song. The warm wind, warm for the first time in several months, swept its way across my face and teased my hair. I flew my hands out to my sides, my head up to the sky and sung along to the music pouring out of my headphones as loud as the machine would allow it.
At 6am you do not care who is around you or what they might think of you as you allow yourself to be swept up in a moment of true joy-- especially when your year has been long and hard and this is the first time in a long time that you have felt this truly good from the inside out.
My world had been taken apart and nothing outside of that moment mattered.
When I had my blades on tonight, my key off its ring and in my hand, I locked my door and hit play. Worlds apart started working its way into my soul once again and for the five minutes that the song played, I was five years younger rolling down the hill on a perfect morning, praising the fact that I was able to find a few moments peace amongst the chaos.
I put my rollerblades on with a spur of the moment desire to go for a ride. I stuck the end of my headphones into the input in my phone and started up the pandora application on it. Jars of Clay quickly rang through my ears with their song, "Worlds Apart" Lyrics are as follows:
http://www.youtube.com/watch#!v=XTq9TtnCe3g&feature=related
I am the only one to blame for this
Somehow it all ends up the same
Soaring on the wings of selfish pride
I flew too high and like Icarus I collide
With a world I try so hard to leave behind
To rid myself of all but love
to give and die
To turn away and not become
Another nail to pierce the skin of one who loves
more deeply than the oceans,
more abundant than the tears
Of a world embracing every heartache
Can I be the one to sacrifice
Or grip the spear and watch the blood and water flow
To love you - take my world apart
To need you - I am on my knees
To love you - take my world apart
To need you - broken on my knees
All said and done I stand alone
Amongst remains of a life I should not own
It takes all I am to believe
In the mercy that covers me
Did you really have to die for me?
All I am for all you are
Because what I need and what I believe are worlds apart
I look beyond the empty cross
forgetting what my life has cost
and wipe away the crimson stains
"dull the nails that still remain"
More and more I need you now,
I owe you more each passing hour
the battle between grace and pride
I gave up not so long ago
So steal my heart and take the pain
and wash the feet and cleanse my pride
take the selfish, take the weak,
and all the things I cannot hide
take the beauty, take my tears
the sin-soaked heart and make it yours
take my world all apart
take it now, take it now
and serve the ones that I despise
speak the words I can't deny
watch the world I used to love
fall to dust and thrown away
I look beyond the empty cross
forgetting what my life has cost
so wipe away the crimson stains
"dull the nails that still remains"
so steal my heart and take the pain
take the selfish, take the weak
and all the things I cannot hide
take the beauty, take my tears
take my world apart, take my world apart
I pray, I pray, I pray
take my world apart
I have to back step now.
My first year in college, a friend and I got up every week day morning at 6am and went to work out. I was training for my first degree black belt, and later nationals and she just wanted a buddy to work out with. Our schedules were opposite so 6am was the only time that worked for both of us.
Frequently, I did not go to bed until about 4am that year. We were always doing something (usually having good conversation) late at night.
Regardless, the year progressed and this is what we did. I am not overly sure how I managed to function, but somehow I did.
Fall and winter came and went and spring was finally here. I decided that I wanted to rollerblade each morning for a while instead of going to the gym to do cardio and lift. The first morning, still half asleep, I managed to make it over to Lakeview Drive which is laced by mansions, plush lawns, beautiful trees, and lake Michigan. The road winds around the lake and there is a beautiful hill sliding you down to a series of parks before it takes you into the heart of the city. As my coordination grew and as I became more awake, I reached the top of this hill and this song came on over my ipod.
The sun was rising over the water and the sky was an awe-striking series of oranges, pinks, yellows and just a hint of blue. The clouds remained long enough to greet the sun, tenderly kissing it good morning, and then became lost in the sky. The sun reflected itself in the waves of the water-- it was as though someone had scattered the top of the lake with yellow glitter.
As I flew down the hill, all eight wheels spinning fast, the ending portion of this song came on-- my favorite part of my all time favorite song. The warm wind, warm for the first time in several months, swept its way across my face and teased my hair. I flew my hands out to my sides, my head up to the sky and sung along to the music pouring out of my headphones as loud as the machine would allow it.
At 6am you do not care who is around you or what they might think of you as you allow yourself to be swept up in a moment of true joy-- especially when your year has been long and hard and this is the first time in a long time that you have felt this truly good from the inside out.
My world had been taken apart and nothing outside of that moment mattered.
When I had my blades on tonight, my key off its ring and in my hand, I locked my door and hit play. Worlds apart started working its way into my soul once again and for the five minutes that the song played, I was five years younger rolling down the hill on a perfect morning, praising the fact that I was able to find a few moments peace amongst the chaos.
Train-- I'm About To Come Alive
Do you ever hear a song for the first time that just grabs hold of your heart and wont let go? One where you feel tears behind your eyes before you realize why they are there?
"Maybe I'm not but you're all that I've got left to believe in
Don't give up on me
I'm about to come alive
And I know that it's been hard
And it's been a long time comin'
Don't give up on me
I'm about to come alive."
Train just did that to me.
Don't give up on me.
................................................
There is so much more to write here. But not publicly. Just think about what it means and what it is like to look at someone and ask, "don't give up on me."
"Maybe I'm not but you're all that I've got left to believe in
Don't give up on me
I'm about to come alive
And I know that it's been hard
And it's been a long time comin'
Don't give up on me
I'm about to come alive."
Train just did that to me.
Don't give up on me.
................................................
There is so much more to write here. But not publicly. Just think about what it means and what it is like to look at someone and ask, "don't give up on me."
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Migraine Mornings
I would rather wake up to the sound of Sandburg's fire alarm at four in the morning than wake up in the morning with a migraine. (Sandburg is the set of residence halls I worked in at Milwaukee). Sandburg's fire alarm is loud and obnoxious. As an RA, when you hear it go off, you don't know if it'll mean sitting in the lounge until you know for sure someone burnt something in the microwave or if you'll be pounding on doors, waking up your 72 residents and trying to convince them to walk down the 26 or 25 flights of stairs to go stand outside. And four in the morning is just one of the worst times to be woken up in the middle of the night.
But I would take this in a heartbeat when faced with the choice of a four AM Sandburg fire alarm and waking up with a migraine.
Waking up with a migraine is more painful that imaginable. Its like having labor pains at the top of your neck that radiate up the back of your head, like fingers snaking their way to your temples, right between your eyes and tensing every teeny muscle along your jaw line and the edge of your face. My nerves stand on edge. I can feel shocks run down my body. They settle in the edges of the back of my shoulders, slide down the back of my arms and bury themselves deep in my elbows, looking for a home. My legs feel like they're moving because I can feel the shocks run up and down up and down up and down each muscle in them. My nerves are on edge. Don't touch me! Or wrap your arms around me and hold me really tight-- don't let go. Give me something soft but nothing else.
It hurts so bad I can hardly move. I hurt so much that it hurts to have my head laying on my pillow. My neck is throbbing and the pain is excruciating if I try to move my head. I can't move but I know if I sit up and try to get comfortable that way, that some of the pain will go away. I try to convince myself to get up to take something to make it more manageable, and myself somewhat functional but it hurts so much I can't move. I manage to get up and take a muscle relaxant and some excedrin migraine. I stumble out to the couch, where its still dark in my living room with the blinds closed. My apartment phone rings and I have no choice but to answer it. I suddenly find myself in the battle of weighing out which is worse: the pain and discomfort of moving or the piercing sound of the phone ringing. Suddenly I find myself praying that the train doesn't go by anytime soon.
I get back to the couch, curl up and pull my softest blanket so that it surrounds me. And I let my mind wonder while I wait for the pain in my neck to dull. When it finally does, I'm dizzy and so nauseous that I can't even enjoy my morning coffee. Since I'm used to coffee every morning, not drinking my usual caffeine may continue the migraine, so I balance feeling sick to my stomach with trying to convince myself to choke down my coffee.
My favorite part of Saturday mornings is royally spoiled.
My neck finally loosens enough for me to feel like I can move around again. I feel like maybe I've gotten it under control and then the pain shoots across my head and I know it's time to use my migraine med before I feel paralyzed for the day. It takes two hours before it fully starts to work. If two hours come and go and it hasn't started helping, I have to take another and pray that in two more hours it will start working.
The med makes me feel out of it and puts my nerves on an even sharper edge. The feeling you get when your foot falls asleep and is all tingly (painfully so) radiates throughout my whole body, centralizing in certain locations-- my neck and into my face, my shoulders, elbows and my knees and everything below them. If it lasts long enough, I'll want to cry at everything-- getting up from the couch, sitting down, trying to eat lunch and the list continues.
These used to last me well over a month at a time. Once I hit a point where I can't take the pain and flaring nerves anymore, and I start to have an emotional melt down, then I know I have to go to the hospital. Three days in a row I'll go in and they'll give me an IV treatment. It'll knock me out and I'll sleep more than I'll be awake. I'll lose most of my short term memory for about a week. I won't remember that we went to grandma and grandpa's. I won't remember the pictures I took, which I knew I took so that I could capture the moments I knew I wouldn't remember happened a few weeks later. You'll call me and tell me all about Christmas, sharing the stories I love to hear and the things you share only just now and again, and when I see you next I'll be upset that I can't remember that you already told me the things I'm asking you about.
In the morning, when I first wake up with a migraine, I'll fear that this will be the path I'm headed down again.
If I'm lucky, I'll kick it within the first twenty four hours. If I'm a little lucky, I'll kick it within three days, all the while worrying about whether or not it will go away or if it'll mean a trip to the hospital. I'll push through the pain, which becomes somewhat manageable when the meds are helping, and my nerves standing on edge. I'll be emotional and hate it cause it takes me a while to realize that the reason I'm upset when I usually wouldn't be is because of the migraine. I'll feel fine for 20 minutes here and there, maybe even a couple hours, only to feel on edge all over again. I'll walk through the world in a haze, annoyed that I can't tap into my passion and positivity readily like I usually can.
But then it'll all come to an end. And, while still fearing that it's not completely gone yet and wondering how I used to do this every day for a whole year, I'll start to feel really good. The desire to strangle anyone who complains about something little while I'm pushing through the migraine will settle down and fall away. And finally I'll feel sooo incredibly amazing because now the pain is gone and my nerves aren't on edge anymore.
Yes, I would much rather wake up to the sound of a Sandburg fire alarm at four in the morning than wake up in the morning with a migraine.
Migraine of mine, please go away so that I don't have to wake up to you again in the morning.
But I would take this in a heartbeat when faced with the choice of a four AM Sandburg fire alarm and waking up with a migraine.
Waking up with a migraine is more painful that imaginable. Its like having labor pains at the top of your neck that radiate up the back of your head, like fingers snaking their way to your temples, right between your eyes and tensing every teeny muscle along your jaw line and the edge of your face. My nerves stand on edge. I can feel shocks run down my body. They settle in the edges of the back of my shoulders, slide down the back of my arms and bury themselves deep in my elbows, looking for a home. My legs feel like they're moving because I can feel the shocks run up and down up and down up and down each muscle in them. My nerves are on edge. Don't touch me! Or wrap your arms around me and hold me really tight-- don't let go. Give me something soft but nothing else.
It hurts so bad I can hardly move. I hurt so much that it hurts to have my head laying on my pillow. My neck is throbbing and the pain is excruciating if I try to move my head. I can't move but I know if I sit up and try to get comfortable that way, that some of the pain will go away. I try to convince myself to get up to take something to make it more manageable, and myself somewhat functional but it hurts so much I can't move. I manage to get up and take a muscle relaxant and some excedrin migraine. I stumble out to the couch, where its still dark in my living room with the blinds closed. My apartment phone rings and I have no choice but to answer it. I suddenly find myself in the battle of weighing out which is worse: the pain and discomfort of moving or the piercing sound of the phone ringing. Suddenly I find myself praying that the train doesn't go by anytime soon.
I get back to the couch, curl up and pull my softest blanket so that it surrounds me. And I let my mind wonder while I wait for the pain in my neck to dull. When it finally does, I'm dizzy and so nauseous that I can't even enjoy my morning coffee. Since I'm used to coffee every morning, not drinking my usual caffeine may continue the migraine, so I balance feeling sick to my stomach with trying to convince myself to choke down my coffee.
My favorite part of Saturday mornings is royally spoiled.
My neck finally loosens enough for me to feel like I can move around again. I feel like maybe I've gotten it under control and then the pain shoots across my head and I know it's time to use my migraine med before I feel paralyzed for the day. It takes two hours before it fully starts to work. If two hours come and go and it hasn't started helping, I have to take another and pray that in two more hours it will start working.
The med makes me feel out of it and puts my nerves on an even sharper edge. The feeling you get when your foot falls asleep and is all tingly (painfully so) radiates throughout my whole body, centralizing in certain locations-- my neck and into my face, my shoulders, elbows and my knees and everything below them. If it lasts long enough, I'll want to cry at everything-- getting up from the couch, sitting down, trying to eat lunch and the list continues.
These used to last me well over a month at a time. Once I hit a point where I can't take the pain and flaring nerves anymore, and I start to have an emotional melt down, then I know I have to go to the hospital. Three days in a row I'll go in and they'll give me an IV treatment. It'll knock me out and I'll sleep more than I'll be awake. I'll lose most of my short term memory for about a week. I won't remember that we went to grandma and grandpa's. I won't remember the pictures I took, which I knew I took so that I could capture the moments I knew I wouldn't remember happened a few weeks later. You'll call me and tell me all about Christmas, sharing the stories I love to hear and the things you share only just now and again, and when I see you next I'll be upset that I can't remember that you already told me the things I'm asking you about.
In the morning, when I first wake up with a migraine, I'll fear that this will be the path I'm headed down again.
If I'm lucky, I'll kick it within the first twenty four hours. If I'm a little lucky, I'll kick it within three days, all the while worrying about whether or not it will go away or if it'll mean a trip to the hospital. I'll push through the pain, which becomes somewhat manageable when the meds are helping, and my nerves standing on edge. I'll be emotional and hate it cause it takes me a while to realize that the reason I'm upset when I usually wouldn't be is because of the migraine. I'll feel fine for 20 minutes here and there, maybe even a couple hours, only to feel on edge all over again. I'll walk through the world in a haze, annoyed that I can't tap into my passion and positivity readily like I usually can.
But then it'll all come to an end. And, while still fearing that it's not completely gone yet and wondering how I used to do this every day for a whole year, I'll start to feel really good. The desire to strangle anyone who complains about something little while I'm pushing through the migraine will settle down and fall away. And finally I'll feel sooo incredibly amazing because now the pain is gone and my nerves aren't on edge anymore.
Yes, I would much rather wake up to the sound of a Sandburg fire alarm at four in the morning than wake up in the morning with a migraine.
Migraine of mine, please go away so that I don't have to wake up to you again in the morning.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Where does passion stem from?
Last night, in class, I was listening to a presentation and the presenter talked about the passion a woman had for her work and, more so, her students. From this, with time, I'm sure I will write several entries. One element, though, stuck out strongly for me-- something which has been on my mind thoroughly for the past (June, July, August, September, October, November, December, January, February, March, April...) eleven months and a little more: Where does passion stem from?
You are about to learn a lot about me.
I am,
here and now,
sharing it,
which does not always come readily,
with you.
Publicly.
Passion has always been a large part of who I am. It drives me. It has determined, several times over, who I am and who I want to be. Passion is one of the most inspirational things I have ever encountered, if not the most inspirational. It has been this way my entire life and I rest knowing that this will always be the case.
Where, though, does it begin?
Life is not always fair. How often do we avoid this thought? Frequently-- I would be surprised to hear otherwise. Is unfairness something to avoid thinking about? Perhaps. But what I think about here is the sermon I was able to listen to online which my pastor gave this past weekend, at Epikos church in Milwaukee Wisconsin, 4-11-10. I have the link posted below-- please feel free to listen to what I miss so dearly... Rock on Danny Parmelee!
http://epikos.org/media/online-sermons.php
Danny speaks in a way to relate the word of God to the every day lives of the people around us in the here and now. He has a particular focus on college students, but our church was not limited to this. He channels God and allows Him to speak through him. I cannot fail to believe this when I hear Danny's passion when he/He speaks. He recognizes the realities of life-- he's lived many of them --but he also recognizes the realities of God in a way that I will forever refuse to deny. And he recognizes that sometimes life feels unfair. This is what he says:
"...well the Bible also talks about being a fool for Christ. [...'In I Corinthians, chapter 1, it says it in there a bunch of times'...] and it's centered on the message where it says that the message of the cross is foolishness to the world. That means that the gospel, the good news of Jesus, is foolish; it doesn't make a lot of sense.
Have you ever caught yourself saying, life. isn't. fair? This. isn't far! Do you know what? The good news, the gospel of Jesus Christ, the forgiveness of sins.. is. not. fair! You don't deserve it! You didn't do anything for it! You're not good enough for God, and yet, because of His grace, He chose you! Because of His grace, He allowed His son to be crucified for you!
And so because of that foolishness, that is offered to us, those who believe also respond in foolishness. [...] for Christ. [...] That no matter what the fear is, what the risk is, what the embarrassment is, that you would take that step of faith, that you would walk through those doors. That as Christ calls us into relationship with God, the Father, that He calls us to be His ambassador. [...] That we are then called to be the very body of Christ. But do you know that God, in His own foolishness, has called you not only to be His sons and daughters, but for something even greater than building a city [for Christ]? [...]
But what about the things in your own life? [...] and ask, 'God, are the things that I'm actually concerned about, concerns of You?' [...] How might we respond to God?"
I want you to think about everything but what may sound cliche in this message. Choose to refuse to tolerate the stereotype. Keep reading.
Life. Is. Not. Fair. But you know what is not fair? That Jesus died on the cross for us. Jesus was perfect! Literally! He was perfect... and yet He died. Not just died, He was killed. I cannot think of anything more unfair than this.
How is it, then, that I can believe in God so fiercely when unfairness surrounds me? How do I find passion in life when the realities of trials surround me? (This is another entry-- read Job (in the Bible). And read "When Bad Things Happen to Good People" by Harold Kushner)
Did you know that satan was an angle? God created satan. How does that make sense? God created evil? NO. I did not say God created evil. God created angles and the world and life. God took, and continues to take chaos and turns it into something good. But think about when you have been in moments of chaos. How much of it can you control at any one time? Only certain elements of it, you cannot control it all at once. You have to choose which elements you will control, alter so that you are able to produce something positive from the chaos. But with the elements that you are not able to alter, the chaos remains and often times reeks havoc. Nothing more can be done other than doing what you can to pull as many positive (good) elements out of the chaos as you possibly can.
This is the role of God. He is all knowing-- imagine what that would be like. He knew when He created the world that it would be complete chaos. He knew that with chaos would come elements that even He could not control (can you believe that?!). He knew that evil would live within the chaos. But He also knew of the great goodness that would come with His creation. 'The good far outweighs the bad.'
(P.S. Apparently I lied, I writing the entry I thought would wait for later now, in addition to the one I started out intending to pour out)
When life is unfair, the elements of unfairness (trials, death, terminal illness, etc.) are not God.
What is unfair is not God.
His word says that He will punish like a parent rebukes their child. But I ask you this, does the "good" parent punish their child without helping the child to understand the reasoning behind which? No. God does not punish us through placing elements of unfairness in our lives. (Kushner)
It took me a long time to come to believe that.
Let me say it again.
God does NOT punish us through placing elements of unfairness, trials in our lives.
God places cars driving slowly in front of me when I'm wanting to drive fast (we're talkin' about 10 over, max, and therefore unsafely) on a back country road. My frustrating in being 'stuck' behind a 'slow' car, in those moments, is God teaching me patience. Him teaching me that I need to abide by the rules of the roads. He is teaching me like a parent teaches a stove is hot while cooking to the child who nearly touches it. He wants me to be safe. He loves me, He uses His love to teach me.
God did not put trial in my life to teach me.
God did not put trial in my life to make me a stronger person. I have become a strong person because I have faced trial in life. I have gained faith through the FACT that God helps us when we are greeted by trial. God does not give us these trials.
I have another entry that is posted here about finding peace within chaos (titled "Captivating Chaos"). The moments of peace when the world around us is far too much, are the presence of God.
Remember, the world is chaos; God knew its presence would be forever when He created it. But He also knew that He was powerful enough to provide peace throughout the chaos. But what He also knew, with great sadness I imagine, is that evil lives within chaos. Tragedy lives within chaos. What He once created with the intent for pureness and goodness (i.e. an angel) may become chaotic, deriving away from what is good (e.g. satan). And He knew how hard this was going to be for all of us...here, living with it.
So what did He do? He gave us His son. Can you believe that? You have ONE kid, just one. And you give it away. You give it away knowing that it will die after you've given it away.
Life. Is. Not. Fair.
But you know what is unfair? That Jesus died for us. That God gave us His son so that He could die for us.
Why would He do that?!
God is not human.
He can understand us, but before Jesus, He could only understand us as His creation. He could only understand us from the outside in. Then He created His son and sent Him to live on earth as a human. While Jesus was on earth and human, God became one with Him. God was able to experience what Jesus experienced. Jesus lived a human life and it is through this life that Jesus lived that God learned what being human was like from the INSIDE OUT rather than from the outside in.
Jesus died for us. And God experienced death. And God rosevJesus up to heaven, where He was, and He created the Holy Spirit so that a portion of God could remain alive on earth-- 'cause that's what the Holy Spirit is, it is God living (alive) within us.
He feels us. He feels what we feel. He experiences what we experience, because now He knows and understands what it is like to be human. When we cry out to Him, in anger, in fear, in denial, in pure emotion, He knows what we are feeling. He experiences it there with us.
When we ask Him why?, He feels the why too. His anger when chaos causes tragedy happens emanates through us. He is able to transcend His emotion down, into, and through us. Grief is not only our own, but His also.
When we love another, we are a part of Him-- He is love. He is not tragedy. He is what gets us through tragedy. He desires to be with us, to hold us, to carry us when chaos impales His creation.
God has known this world since its beginning. We have not. But, as we continue to live our time on this world, we begin to see and experience more of it. We learn and come to understand, in ways able, the chaos but also the goodness through which. The trials we experience lead us to the experience of moving through and past (is it possible to fully "pass through" and therefore beyond a trial? I am not fully convinced that it is) trials. We experience what it is like to smile when you never thought you could feel a smile spread across your face again.
We experience the "little things" which help us to see and realize why God still went ahead and created all of who we are and what we have when He knew that doing so would also mean chaos-- trial. We see that life can be unfair, but we learn the good and how to hang onto it through the chaos.
God emanates His emotion through us and we feel greatness and love. We see that what we have, when we have it, is something to be cherished. We know how quickly it can disappear. We learn to be captivated and to allow ourselves to experience, knowing the possibility for hurt/unfairness/chaos yet relearning again and again how to push beyond that knowledge and risk it for the possibility of what is good. To be foolish for Christ.
It leads us to desire to find greatness in everything. Which, for me, is the same as a leading desire to witness God in every moment.
An understanding of what is-- chaos and it's opposite --leads to a deeply seeded desire, passion, for life. For the life that pushes through chaos.
Passion, then, stems from an understanding of what is, what has been and what can be. Passion stems from the way God has and is moving in our life. Passion is God's desire for us, as His creation, His children, to have and live greatness. Passion is His desire to be with us. Passion is His desire for us to be with Him. Passion stems from God's presence in the world He has created for us.
You are about to learn a lot about me.
I am,
here and now,
sharing it,
which does not always come readily,
with you.
Publicly.
Passion has always been a large part of who I am. It drives me. It has determined, several times over, who I am and who I want to be. Passion is one of the most inspirational things I have ever encountered, if not the most inspirational. It has been this way my entire life and I rest knowing that this will always be the case.
Where, though, does it begin?
Life is not always fair. How often do we avoid this thought? Frequently-- I would be surprised to hear otherwise. Is unfairness something to avoid thinking about? Perhaps. But what I think about here is the sermon I was able to listen to online which my pastor gave this past weekend, at Epikos church in Milwaukee Wisconsin, 4-11-10. I have the link posted below-- please feel free to listen to what I miss so dearly... Rock on Danny Parmelee!
http://epikos.org/media/online-sermons.php
Danny speaks in a way to relate the word of God to the every day lives of the people around us in the here and now. He has a particular focus on college students, but our church was not limited to this. He channels God and allows Him to speak through him. I cannot fail to believe this when I hear Danny's passion when he/He speaks. He recognizes the realities of life-- he's lived many of them --but he also recognizes the realities of God in a way that I will forever refuse to deny. And he recognizes that sometimes life feels unfair. This is what he says:
"...well the Bible also talks about being a fool for Christ. [...'In I Corinthians, chapter 1, it says it in there a bunch of times'...] and it's centered on the message where it says that the message of the cross is foolishness to the world. That means that the gospel, the good news of Jesus, is foolish; it doesn't make a lot of sense.
Have you ever caught yourself saying, life. isn't. fair? This. isn't far! Do you know what? The good news, the gospel of Jesus Christ, the forgiveness of sins.. is. not. fair! You don't deserve it! You didn't do anything for it! You're not good enough for God, and yet, because of His grace, He chose you! Because of His grace, He allowed His son to be crucified for you!
And so because of that foolishness, that is offered to us, those who believe also respond in foolishness. [...] for Christ. [...] That no matter what the fear is, what the risk is, what the embarrassment is, that you would take that step of faith, that you would walk through those doors. That as Christ calls us into relationship with God, the Father, that He calls us to be His ambassador. [...] That we are then called to be the very body of Christ. But do you know that God, in His own foolishness, has called you not only to be His sons and daughters, but for something even greater than building a city [for Christ]? [...]
But what about the things in your own life? [...] and ask, 'God, are the things that I'm actually concerned about, concerns of You?' [...] How might we respond to God?"
I want you to think about everything but what may sound cliche in this message. Choose to refuse to tolerate the stereotype. Keep reading.
Life. Is. Not. Fair. But you know what is not fair? That Jesus died on the cross for us. Jesus was perfect! Literally! He was perfect... and yet He died. Not just died, He was killed. I cannot think of anything more unfair than this.
How is it, then, that I can believe in God so fiercely when unfairness surrounds me? How do I find passion in life when the realities of trials surround me? (This is another entry-- read Job (in the Bible). And read "When Bad Things Happen to Good People" by Harold Kushner)
Did you know that satan was an angle? God created satan. How does that make sense? God created evil? NO. I did not say God created evil. God created angles and the world and life. God took, and continues to take chaos and turns it into something good. But think about when you have been in moments of chaos. How much of it can you control at any one time? Only certain elements of it, you cannot control it all at once. You have to choose which elements you will control, alter so that you are able to produce something positive from the chaos. But with the elements that you are not able to alter, the chaos remains and often times reeks havoc. Nothing more can be done other than doing what you can to pull as many positive (good) elements out of the chaos as you possibly can.
This is the role of God. He is all knowing-- imagine what that would be like. He knew when He created the world that it would be complete chaos. He knew that with chaos would come elements that even He could not control (can you believe that?!). He knew that evil would live within the chaos. But He also knew of the great goodness that would come with His creation. 'The good far outweighs the bad.'
(P.S. Apparently I lied, I writing the entry I thought would wait for later now, in addition to the one I started out intending to pour out)
When life is unfair, the elements of unfairness (trials, death, terminal illness, etc.) are not God.
What is unfair is not God.
His word says that He will punish like a parent rebukes their child. But I ask you this, does the "good" parent punish their child without helping the child to understand the reasoning behind which? No. God does not punish us through placing elements of unfairness in our lives. (Kushner)
It took me a long time to come to believe that.
Let me say it again.
God does NOT punish us through placing elements of unfairness, trials in our lives.
God places cars driving slowly in front of me when I'm wanting to drive fast (we're talkin' about 10 over, max, and therefore unsafely) on a back country road. My frustrating in being 'stuck' behind a 'slow' car, in those moments, is God teaching me patience. Him teaching me that I need to abide by the rules of the roads. He is teaching me like a parent teaches a stove is hot while cooking to the child who nearly touches it. He wants me to be safe. He loves me, He uses His love to teach me.
God did not put trial in my life to teach me.
God did not put trial in my life to make me a stronger person. I have become a strong person because I have faced trial in life. I have gained faith through the FACT that God helps us when we are greeted by trial. God does not give us these trials.
I have another entry that is posted here about finding peace within chaos (titled "Captivating Chaos"). The moments of peace when the world around us is far too much, are the presence of God.
Remember, the world is chaos; God knew its presence would be forever when He created it. But He also knew that He was powerful enough to provide peace throughout the chaos. But what He also knew, with great sadness I imagine, is that evil lives within chaos. Tragedy lives within chaos. What He once created with the intent for pureness and goodness (i.e. an angel) may become chaotic, deriving away from what is good (e.g. satan). And He knew how hard this was going to be for all of us...here, living with it.
So what did He do? He gave us His son. Can you believe that? You have ONE kid, just one. And you give it away. You give it away knowing that it will die after you've given it away.
Life. Is. Not. Fair.
But you know what is unfair? That Jesus died for us. That God gave us His son so that He could die for us.
Why would He do that?!
God is not human.
He can understand us, but before Jesus, He could only understand us as His creation. He could only understand us from the outside in. Then He created His son and sent Him to live on earth as a human. While Jesus was on earth and human, God became one with Him. God was able to experience what Jesus experienced. Jesus lived a human life and it is through this life that Jesus lived that God learned what being human was like from the INSIDE OUT rather than from the outside in.
Jesus died for us. And God experienced death. And God rosevJesus up to heaven, where He was, and He created the Holy Spirit so that a portion of God could remain alive on earth-- 'cause that's what the Holy Spirit is, it is God living (alive) within us.
He feels us. He feels what we feel. He experiences what we experience, because now He knows and understands what it is like to be human. When we cry out to Him, in anger, in fear, in denial, in pure emotion, He knows what we are feeling. He experiences it there with us.
When we ask Him why?, He feels the why too. His anger when chaos causes tragedy happens emanates through us. He is able to transcend His emotion down, into, and through us. Grief is not only our own, but His also.
When we love another, we are a part of Him-- He is love. He is not tragedy. He is what gets us through tragedy. He desires to be with us, to hold us, to carry us when chaos impales His creation.
God has known this world since its beginning. We have not. But, as we continue to live our time on this world, we begin to see and experience more of it. We learn and come to understand, in ways able, the chaos but also the goodness through which. The trials we experience lead us to the experience of moving through and past (is it possible to fully "pass through" and therefore beyond a trial? I am not fully convinced that it is) trials. We experience what it is like to smile when you never thought you could feel a smile spread across your face again.
We experience the "little things" which help us to see and realize why God still went ahead and created all of who we are and what we have when He knew that doing so would also mean chaos-- trial. We see that life can be unfair, but we learn the good and how to hang onto it through the chaos.
God emanates His emotion through us and we feel greatness and love. We see that what we have, when we have it, is something to be cherished. We know how quickly it can disappear. We learn to be captivated and to allow ourselves to experience, knowing the possibility for hurt/unfairness/chaos yet relearning again and again how to push beyond that knowledge and risk it for the possibility of what is good. To be foolish for Christ.
It leads us to desire to find greatness in everything. Which, for me, is the same as a leading desire to witness God in every moment.
An understanding of what is-- chaos and it's opposite --leads to a deeply seeded desire, passion, for life. For the life that pushes through chaos.
Passion, then, stems from an understanding of what is, what has been and what can be. Passion stems from the way God has and is moving in our life. Passion is God's desire for us, as His creation, His children, to have and live greatness. Passion is His desire to be with us. Passion is His desire for us to be with Him. Passion stems from God's presence in the world He has created for us.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Stand up
I find it purely sad how unwilling we are, as a university, to work with each other across organizations. I have been a part of a silo campus before, which is still very much siloed, but I take pride in the collaboration which we were able to foster during the past couple of years and how this has continued to grow since I completed my time there.
We talk about what we would like ideally. We have creative and, at first glance, crazy ideas, yet we see that there are politics and a silo culture to which we are so we are stifled and move to the wayside.
We are stifled and move to the wayside.
What happens when we stand up and fight against it? Lets come back to this.
We share ideas and create a vision, goals, of what we want. Eventually someone is appointed to take the lead. They run with it and bring the beginning bits back to the group, and now, quickly, with and without anticipation, we are brought back to the politics and silo nature of our reality. Accredited qualifications are no longer qualifying.
What is qualified or, the true meaning intended, acceptable is bringing someone in who is outside of our silo, appealing to the political stake holder(s). They will give a presentation, possibly in an under-prepared manor, and the vision and goals of the committee are not met. But, we worked with someone outside of our silo and therefore we have accomplished what has been asked of us.
I am thankful that we have a group who pushes beyond what has been done (and by pushing beyond I mean take what was and continue to work with and build upon it. Not recreating the wheel nor disregarding what was). I appreciate that we have a group which is willing to fight for the next level.
I will stand up.
If we have been asked to work with others outside of our silo, then why not do so? I intend this as a loaded question.
If we have a desire to work with others, for whatever reason, even simply because its something that literature says we 'should' do. Great! I am all for it! But why half-ass it? Why should we give or do any less than all we have and all we can? Anything outside of everything is something I do not understand-- even through the instances when I myself have not given my all. I will say it again, anything outside of everything is something I do not understand.
If we would like to work with others, then let us work with others! Let there be no limitation! But, and this is a rather large but, we must first prepare ourselves for doing so.
How can we study diversity if we do not know what diversity is? How can we come to see, understand (as much as we can from the outside) and experience the diversity of others if we do not first know and come to terms with our own individual diversity? How can we, collectively, approach others openhearted and openmindedly if we are unable to do so first as a collective? How are we to create a relationship with those outside of our silo if we are not first willing to create relationships within our silo? How are we to work with others outside of our silo if we are not first able and DESIRE to work within our silo?
These are the elements which we became aware of as a group. These are the elements we wanted to talk about and move away from. But politics stifles us.
How can we overcome?
We will overcome. We will meet the desires of the political stake holder(s) but I hope and pray and will stand up for a way to meet their desires with intentionality, purpose, and in a way which meets the vision and goals the committee has set out to accomplish. I will stand up for diversity with all that I have. I will stand up for our team becoming stronger. And the first way I will stand up is by sitting and listening. Working to understand. Contemplating. Sharing thoughts and ideas. Standing up any and every time needed to share why I feel so deeply. Where there is a dream, there is a way.
I will stand up.
We talk about what we would like ideally. We have creative and, at first glance, crazy ideas, yet we see that there are politics and a silo culture to which we are so we are stifled and move to the wayside.
We are stifled and move to the wayside.
What happens when we stand up and fight against it? Lets come back to this.
We share ideas and create a vision, goals, of what we want. Eventually someone is appointed to take the lead. They run with it and bring the beginning bits back to the group, and now, quickly, with and without anticipation, we are brought back to the politics and silo nature of our reality. Accredited qualifications are no longer qualifying.
What is qualified or, the true meaning intended, acceptable is bringing someone in who is outside of our silo, appealing to the political stake holder(s). They will give a presentation, possibly in an under-prepared manor, and the vision and goals of the committee are not met. But, we worked with someone outside of our silo and therefore we have accomplished what has been asked of us.
I am thankful that we have a group who pushes beyond what has been done (and by pushing beyond I mean take what was and continue to work with and build upon it. Not recreating the wheel nor disregarding what was). I appreciate that we have a group which is willing to fight for the next level.
I will stand up.
If we have been asked to work with others outside of our silo, then why not do so? I intend this as a loaded question.
If we have a desire to work with others, for whatever reason, even simply because its something that literature says we 'should' do. Great! I am all for it! But why half-ass it? Why should we give or do any less than all we have and all we can? Anything outside of everything is something I do not understand-- even through the instances when I myself have not given my all. I will say it again, anything outside of everything is something I do not understand.
If we would like to work with others, then let us work with others! Let there be no limitation! But, and this is a rather large but, we must first prepare ourselves for doing so.
How can we study diversity if we do not know what diversity is? How can we come to see, understand (as much as we can from the outside) and experience the diversity of others if we do not first know and come to terms with our own individual diversity? How can we, collectively, approach others openhearted and openmindedly if we are unable to do so first as a collective? How are we to create a relationship with those outside of our silo if we are not first willing to create relationships within our silo? How are we to work with others outside of our silo if we are not first able and DESIRE to work within our silo?
These are the elements which we became aware of as a group. These are the elements we wanted to talk about and move away from. But politics stifles us.
How can we overcome?
We will overcome. We will meet the desires of the political stake holder(s) but I hope and pray and will stand up for a way to meet their desires with intentionality, purpose, and in a way which meets the vision and goals the committee has set out to accomplish. I will stand up for diversity with all that I have. I will stand up for our team becoming stronger. And the first way I will stand up is by sitting and listening. Working to understand. Contemplating. Sharing thoughts and ideas. Standing up any and every time needed to share why I feel so deeply. Where there is a dream, there is a way.
I will stand up.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Passionate Frustration-- Continued
I remember, now, why I was frustrated yesterday. There's a class I'm in that drives me nuts at the moment. I found myself frustrated because I had absolutely no desire to write the paper assignment we were given. It was due Monday night and I still was not done early Monday afternoon.
I enjoy writing a great deal; I wouldn't have a blog if I didn't enjoy writing at least in the slightest. So when it comes to academic papers, yes there are some that I wouldn't mind doing without, but generally speaking I thoroughly enjoy putting my thoughts down on paper and therefore don't mind them much. I learn more about myself as I write. So even when I am working on an assignment that I don't really enjoy or a topic matter that I have little interest in, I am still somehow able to find a way to enjoy at least some of the writing process.
This assignment, though, I seriously had no desire to put any effort into. This thoroughly frustrated me.
Where does this frustration come from though? So easily we say it is simply because we are upset or don't want to do something that we feel like we have no choice but to do. Or we see that we have a choice-- I can easily choose to not write the paper --but the result of either choice we make is not something we are satisfied with. These are valid things. But there is more to it than that.
I am irritated with the situation. The lack of organization, being unsure of investment (perhaps of the professor but potentially the program/department in the decisions that led up to how the course is being run), and feeling as though there is little purpose in what has been and will continue to be asked of us. These too are valid things, but again this is not the root of the frustration.
I have chosen to go ahead and find a way to invest myself still in the material-- at least to a small extent. I have chosen to do the assignments, not with as much heart as I do my others but still complete them nonetheless. And this is where the root begins.
In choosing to do the assignments, even halfheartedly, there comes a choice to sacrifice. Sacrifice is the thick meat of the root.
What is sacrifice? What does it mean to sacrifice. I think of what was sacrificed for me, in terms of my religious beliefs, when I consider the term sacrifice. And I consider what I am willing to sacrifice for others-- much more than many, perhaps any, know. Sacrifice is an incredibly intimate portion of our life.
I have chosen to sacrifice sleep, eating meals while doing homework, elements of my job, relationships with others, and time away from myself. I have pushed through sickness when unwise to complete what has been asked of me-- whether there is portrayed (key word there) investment and purpose on the other end or not.
For what things in your life are you willing to sacrifice these same things? What and why are you willing to sacrifice. I think these are important questions.
We sacrifice for what is important to us. We sacrifice for our values, our ethics, what we love.
What happens, then, when something you value, believe in, or love betrays you? Maybe betray is too strong of a word to begin with. What happens when one of these things shows you or emanates, yes, what you still value, believe in and/or love, but also something which you do not?
Frustration.
Frustration, arg!! Frustration because you're not willing to jeopodarize what you value, believe in and/or love, but frustration because you do not like or agree with one element of what you value, believe in, and/or love. There is conflict. But this conflict doesn't erase the value, believe and love. There is still passion-- in other words --and because of this passion is confronted with a roadblock, frustration is produced.
The beautiful thing about understanding this is that when I witness frustration in others, I am able to break it down and soon I can see their passion. And then suddenly there is beauty within frustration.
I enjoy writing a great deal; I wouldn't have a blog if I didn't enjoy writing at least in the slightest. So when it comes to academic papers, yes there are some that I wouldn't mind doing without, but generally speaking I thoroughly enjoy putting my thoughts down on paper and therefore don't mind them much. I learn more about myself as I write. So even when I am working on an assignment that I don't really enjoy or a topic matter that I have little interest in, I am still somehow able to find a way to enjoy at least some of the writing process.
This assignment, though, I seriously had no desire to put any effort into. This thoroughly frustrated me.
Where does this frustration come from though? So easily we say it is simply because we are upset or don't want to do something that we feel like we have no choice but to do. Or we see that we have a choice-- I can easily choose to not write the paper --but the result of either choice we make is not something we are satisfied with. These are valid things. But there is more to it than that.
I am irritated with the situation. The lack of organization, being unsure of investment (perhaps of the professor but potentially the program/department in the decisions that led up to how the course is being run), and feeling as though there is little purpose in what has been and will continue to be asked of us. These too are valid things, but again this is not the root of the frustration.
I have chosen to go ahead and find a way to invest myself still in the material-- at least to a small extent. I have chosen to do the assignments, not with as much heart as I do my others but still complete them nonetheless. And this is where the root begins.
In choosing to do the assignments, even halfheartedly, there comes a choice to sacrifice. Sacrifice is the thick meat of the root.
What is sacrifice? What does it mean to sacrifice. I think of what was sacrificed for me, in terms of my religious beliefs, when I consider the term sacrifice. And I consider what I am willing to sacrifice for others-- much more than many, perhaps any, know. Sacrifice is an incredibly intimate portion of our life.
I have chosen to sacrifice sleep, eating meals while doing homework, elements of my job, relationships with others, and time away from myself. I have pushed through sickness when unwise to complete what has been asked of me-- whether there is portrayed (key word there) investment and purpose on the other end or not.
For what things in your life are you willing to sacrifice these same things? What and why are you willing to sacrifice. I think these are important questions.
We sacrifice for what is important to us. We sacrifice for our values, our ethics, what we love.
What happens, then, when something you value, believe in, or love betrays you? Maybe betray is too strong of a word to begin with. What happens when one of these things shows you or emanates, yes, what you still value, believe in and/or love, but also something which you do not?
Frustration.
Frustration, arg!! Frustration because you're not willing to jeopodarize what you value, believe in and/or love, but frustration because you do not like or agree with one element of what you value, believe in, and/or love. There is conflict. But this conflict doesn't erase the value, believe and love. There is still passion-- in other words --and because of this passion is confronted with a roadblock, frustration is produced.
The beautiful thing about understanding this is that when I witness frustration in others, I am able to break it down and soon I can see their passion. And then suddenly there is beauty within frustration.
Passionate Frustration
All day I have been unable to find the music which resonates with my soul. I have put on what I wanted to listen to, what I have been listening to, and considered what I have not yet listened to (more than just a handful of times). None seemed to fulfill my 'music quota' for today. Finally, about twenty-five minutes ago, I put on my "music to sooth the soul" play list and bingo! This has been what I've been wanting all day but couldn't find. And now, of course, I would much rather sit up and listen to this than go to sleep now-- regardless of the fact that my body badly wants sleep. This, though, is not why I came to write. This is just a little piece of my day. My day-to-day. My life with music.
Walking outside tonight, after kids TKD class, the sky looked like the scene on the movie Independence Day where the huge ship is coming over the city, taking up nearly all of the sky. The clouds were so thick and had a estranged, unplanned pattern about them. They were thick and truly beautiful. The sky seemed so low that I felt a desire to reach up and touch it. Or to hunch down a bit, questioning if I should duck. I had forgotten, today, how vast the sky is. One of the beauties of this portion of the state, and it's vast flatness, is how expansively the planes deepen the sky. It is why our sunsets and sunrises are so beautiful and why they stay with us for quite a while, intimately embracing the sky before leaving. It is why we are able to see such rich and inexpressibly pure rays of blue, aqua and...well all the other inexpressible elements present in the cooling evening sky. This too, though, is not what I have come to write about tonight...whops, 12:32am, guess it's morning.
I cannot remember why I found myself frustrated earlier today, but I know that I did. Somehow, my brain jumped from one thought to another until suddenly I realized, or perhaps remembered, rather, that frustration stems from passion. Our first staff meeting of this semester is a prime example of that-- a story for another time.
Ponder that. Think about it: have you ever found yourself frustrated yet unable to connect that frustration back to something you truly care about? Think about it the next time that you are frustrated-- not irritated, not annoyed, not angry but truly frustrated. Why is it that you find yourself in frustration? Is it not related to passion?
This is just the beginning of my thoughts on this. Hopefully-- academics, work, and sickness allowing --more to come soon.
Walking outside tonight, after kids TKD class, the sky looked like the scene on the movie Independence Day where the huge ship is coming over the city, taking up nearly all of the sky. The clouds were so thick and had a estranged, unplanned pattern about them. They were thick and truly beautiful. The sky seemed so low that I felt a desire to reach up and touch it. Or to hunch down a bit, questioning if I should duck. I had forgotten, today, how vast the sky is. One of the beauties of this portion of the state, and it's vast flatness, is how expansively the planes deepen the sky. It is why our sunsets and sunrises are so beautiful and why they stay with us for quite a while, intimately embracing the sky before leaving. It is why we are able to see such rich and inexpressibly pure rays of blue, aqua and...well all the other inexpressible elements present in the cooling evening sky. This too, though, is not what I have come to write about tonight...whops, 12:32am, guess it's morning.
I cannot remember why I found myself frustrated earlier today, but I know that I did. Somehow, my brain jumped from one thought to another until suddenly I realized, or perhaps remembered, rather, that frustration stems from passion. Our first staff meeting of this semester is a prime example of that-- a story for another time.
Ponder that. Think about it: have you ever found yourself frustrated yet unable to connect that frustration back to something you truly care about? Think about it the next time that you are frustrated-- not irritated, not annoyed, not angry but truly frustrated. Why is it that you find yourself in frustration? Is it not related to passion?
This is just the beginning of my thoughts on this. Hopefully-- academics, work, and sickness allowing --more to come soon.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Captivating Chaos
There is something beautiful about how moments of peace present themselves throughout chaos.
How amazing these moments are when they last longer than a moment's time.
As I think this thought, I am also reminded of how movies, television, plays, even music present these elements. I think of films where there is total disaster, or something drastic happens, or, better yet, someone's day is simply hectic and busy, yet for a moment the world slows enough for everything outside of the chaos to come into focus. In movies, television, plays, music and so on, it adds drama. Suspense. In every way, it plays on ethos.
It is being captivated in the present. Not subdued, but achieving a point of captivating presence. And what I mean by this is holding a level of presence which captivates others in the degree of presence you are in.
These, extended, moments are what I love. I enjoy being captivated-- pulled into something in such a way where internally I feel no other option than to be entirely and completely enthralled with what I am experiencing.
It is something I strive to draw out in others.
They are moments I work to enjoy.
"We're half way past the point of no return" I'm in love with this line at the moment. (Pink, 'Glitter in the Air')
I thoroughly enjoy when someone looks at another and says, 'how do you do it?' I was asked that twice today. It has reminded me that I am exactly where I want to be. I am headed in the direction I want to be headed in-- I see greatness in the future. And I recognize that I see future in this light because I work to see greatness now. Not just now, but in those little broken down moments. In moments of presence. I strive for presence.
An inner calm, inner peace during moments of pure intensity is exactly where I find myself now. Looking at it all at once, there is 'too much on my plate'. But I am in love with it. I am in a place where I feel calm, happy, and dare I say even relaxed regardless of all that is going on around me. I attempt to transition from one element of my day into the next and am greeted with some sort of issue, disruption, unexpected news or event, something to add, rearrange or interfere with my schedule. My reaction, though, is contentment.
It's odd.
I enjoy being in this place, being captivatingly present. I enjoy that I have learned how to allow things to move me in a very real and powerful way. I appreciate endurance and flexibility. I appreciate the ability to remain calm. I enjoy being there, being present in the moment and seeing and allowing it to be what it is. I enjoy letting it all fall away. I enjoy being present within moments of chaos.
How amazing these moments are when they last longer than a moment's time.
As I think this thought, I am also reminded of how movies, television, plays, even music present these elements. I think of films where there is total disaster, or something drastic happens, or, better yet, someone's day is simply hectic and busy, yet for a moment the world slows enough for everything outside of the chaos to come into focus. In movies, television, plays, music and so on, it adds drama. Suspense. In every way, it plays on ethos.
It is being captivated in the present. Not subdued, but achieving a point of captivating presence. And what I mean by this is holding a level of presence which captivates others in the degree of presence you are in.
These, extended, moments are what I love. I enjoy being captivated-- pulled into something in such a way where internally I feel no other option than to be entirely and completely enthralled with what I am experiencing.
It is something I strive to draw out in others.
They are moments I work to enjoy.
"We're half way past the point of no return" I'm in love with this line at the moment. (Pink, 'Glitter in the Air')
I thoroughly enjoy when someone looks at another and says, 'how do you do it?' I was asked that twice today. It has reminded me that I am exactly where I want to be. I am headed in the direction I want to be headed in-- I see greatness in the future. And I recognize that I see future in this light because I work to see greatness now. Not just now, but in those little broken down moments. In moments of presence. I strive for presence.
An inner calm, inner peace during moments of pure intensity is exactly where I find myself now. Looking at it all at once, there is 'too much on my plate'. But I am in love with it. I am in a place where I feel calm, happy, and dare I say even relaxed regardless of all that is going on around me. I attempt to transition from one element of my day into the next and am greeted with some sort of issue, disruption, unexpected news or event, something to add, rearrange or interfere with my schedule. My reaction, though, is contentment.
It's odd.
I enjoy being in this place, being captivatingly present. I enjoy that I have learned how to allow things to move me in a very real and powerful way. I appreciate endurance and flexibility. I appreciate the ability to remain calm. I enjoy being there, being present in the moment and seeing and allowing it to be what it is. I enjoy letting it all fall away. I enjoy being present within moments of chaos.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Disconnected
I was unplugged this weekend and I loved it. The urge to check my phone five million times a day was still there at certain moments, but I also found myself not caring when I did hear it ring or tell me someone sent some form of message. No computer. No time on the internet. It was wonderful.
I have realized recently that TV, my computer, and my phone have become a pretty big distraction. Anyone who has lived with me before knows that I go through a long cycle. I work like a crazy woman, cause I love to be busy, I am the 'energizer bunny', as I like to say. And then I crash-- intentionally. If that makes any sense. I do nothing. I take time to myself and I veg out in front of the TV, my computer, a book, things along those lines.
The trick, then, comes when I don't have time to veg. I take a little time here and there and suddenly I'm taking time when I really need to be doing work.
This, my friends, is where I seem to be at.
It is time to unplug more. I do not want to be addicted to my phone, facebook, email, TV excessively. It is amazing how much these things will pull you away from the rest of your life.
I need to take more of that time and spend it with God.
I want to take more of that time and spend it with TaeKwon-Do and other active things.
I want to take more of that time and spend it with others. I want to continue to build friendships here. Its hard to be patient in allowing those friendships to happen slowly-- because they do happen slowly --especially in the line of work that I'm in, in that it consumes a great deal of my time. But it is something which I accept.
It is through these things, though, that I also want to spend more time reading and writing. Observing the things in life that we pass by without a second, sometimes even a first, glance.
I find myself drawing back on this old prose I wrote about two, two and a half years ago:
moments in life come crashing together. glancing up i see a picture of me four feet in the air, vertical and displaying ultimate power and control. years of training formed together in one fluid movement. in this comes a snap and i find wood falling down around my feet.
and yet i find myself bringing my head back down, depleted and lifeless. there are moments for us where life is presented to never be good enough. we will never succeed. try as we might, failure is the only picture painted. and yet we are applauded.
the devil does quite the trick- pulling at our hearts; knowing which to be the most vulnerable strings and just how to settle into our weaknesses. here is where we're convinced that this is a feeling to hold. our friend, roommate, the ones we love shouldn't cheer us up. we should stay where we are and they are only a distraction before i head back down my self directed path of disappointment.
the energizer bunny mode is where i race best. except i don't have all the energy. this is my saying: i am the energizer bunny without all the energy
we just keep moving. just keep on going. running, doing, checking the to-do list, task list, assignments and continue on down the line- "all aboard!"
we haven't time to stop and smile. to feel the embrace of our inner child. and if we stop, if we stumble, if we take just one step away from our line of work, its all to sacrifice. there is no rest or happiness without consequence. no peace of mind outside of the momentary prayer which holds us in place.
we only live once and once is all we have. once a moment and never more. what we have is now, our moment, this moment is never again and never enough.
Reading back on this inspires me to write. I want to learn to write with what I've experienced now. Writing comes readily when trial and tragedy are around me. I want to develop my ability to write when I have found myself satisfied.
I have realized recently that TV, my computer, and my phone have become a pretty big distraction. Anyone who has lived with me before knows that I go through a long cycle. I work like a crazy woman, cause I love to be busy, I am the 'energizer bunny', as I like to say. And then I crash-- intentionally. If that makes any sense. I do nothing. I take time to myself and I veg out in front of the TV, my computer, a book, things along those lines.
The trick, then, comes when I don't have time to veg. I take a little time here and there and suddenly I'm taking time when I really need to be doing work.
This, my friends, is where I seem to be at.
It is time to unplug more. I do not want to be addicted to my phone, facebook, email, TV excessively. It is amazing how much these things will pull you away from the rest of your life.
I need to take more of that time and spend it with God.
I want to take more of that time and spend it with TaeKwon-Do and other active things.
I want to take more of that time and spend it with others. I want to continue to build friendships here. Its hard to be patient in allowing those friendships to happen slowly-- because they do happen slowly --especially in the line of work that I'm in, in that it consumes a great deal of my time. But it is something which I accept.
It is through these things, though, that I also want to spend more time reading and writing. Observing the things in life that we pass by without a second, sometimes even a first, glance.
I find myself drawing back on this old prose I wrote about two, two and a half years ago:
moments in life come crashing together. glancing up i see a picture of me four feet in the air, vertical and displaying ultimate power and control. years of training formed together in one fluid movement. in this comes a snap and i find wood falling down around my feet.
and yet i find myself bringing my head back down, depleted and lifeless. there are moments for us where life is presented to never be good enough. we will never succeed. try as we might, failure is the only picture painted. and yet we are applauded.
the devil does quite the trick- pulling at our hearts; knowing which to be the most vulnerable strings and just how to settle into our weaknesses. here is where we're convinced that this is a feeling to hold. our friend, roommate, the ones we love shouldn't cheer us up. we should stay where we are and they are only a distraction before i head back down my self directed path of disappointment.
the energizer bunny mode is where i race best. except i don't have all the energy. this is my saying: i am the energizer bunny without all the energy
we just keep moving. just keep on going. running, doing, checking the to-do list, task list, assignments and continue on down the line- "all aboard!"
we haven't time to stop and smile. to feel the embrace of our inner child. and if we stop, if we stumble, if we take just one step away from our line of work, its all to sacrifice. there is no rest or happiness without consequence. no peace of mind outside of the momentary prayer which holds us in place.
we only live once and once is all we have. once a moment and never more. what we have is now, our moment, this moment is never again and never enough.
Reading back on this inspires me to write. I want to learn to write with what I've experienced now. Writing comes readily when trial and tragedy are around me. I want to develop my ability to write when I have found myself satisfied.
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