i bought my plane ticket to prague today.
the usual anxiety is starting again. hard to say if it's better than before i went to taipei. and one day, i will master it, just as i've conquered other travel-related fears. i figure that once i've had almost everything stolen from me, things can't get much worse, right? right. suffice it to say, the anxiety is ebbed by the fact that i always sleep with one strap of my bag wrapped around an arm, and the bag is always on the side with the wall. you think i'm kidding, but i'm so not.
generally, i will tell you right now that i have no idea where the money has come from, or will come from for that matter. but it always comes. my bank account is like Jesus multiplying the loaves and the fish. this happened to me in europe. and again around month 2 in taiwan. and then again when i was planning for my trip to russia. i always look at the money and think, there's no possible logical way i'm going to do this. but without fail, $20 seems to stretch into hundreds, though i've never been good at doing the math on how this takes place.
a few months in prague. then it's hard to say, but i will figure out where God meant for me to be. i have so many bright ideas about what's going to happen and so few ideas about how i'm going to do it.
but the certainty that i'm supposed to go searching for what it is constantly sits in the back of my mind. it makes my legs twitch and my fingers ache. it gives me euphoric dreams and horrifying nightmares. makes me notice everyone and no one. i feel like my soul sees with so much clarity that i might go absolutely, intellectually mad.
i'm just hoping that i'm wandering in the right direction.
Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
tag-action
the bigger mystery is whether or not you're going to believe this stuff.
1. i was run over by a truck and lived to tell about it.
2. i climbed an active volcano in indonesia, and almost froze to death in the process. in the summer. also, i couldn't move for a day afterward.
3. i once gave a speech at a kmt rally in taiwan. in chinese. sort of. plus, i met the guy that later became the president, who probably spoke english better than me. it was not a day of personal greatness.
4. i am uncommonly good at remembering quotes and conversations, especially things i hear on television. i have to restrain myself, because i'm pretty sure i have the capacity to creep people out.
5. i keep realizing that i have now been single for over 2 years. on a very technical, label-dependent level, anyway.
i really don't want to talk about it.
6. i've always thought i had an addiction to pasta, but lately i'm starting to believe it's actually tomatoes. for serious. i eat some form of tomato every day, sometimes more than once, and would probably eat more if i could.
7. 108 hours is the longest i've gone without a shower. this was not so much a choice as it was forced upon me by the russian rail network. and p.s. there is no good way to appear even moderately hygienic after 108 hours on the trans-siberian.
aaron and kirsten choate, nicole, sarah, edward, dano, and myers, you're up. everybody else has already been tagged elsewhere.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
the reason why we bought the bracelets.
"dwight, did i ever tell you why i left scranton? yeah, i didn't think i did. well, it was all about pam. yeah, i mean, she was with roy, and... i just couldn't take it. i mean, i lost it, dwight. i couldn't sleep. i couldn't concentrate on anything. and weird stuff like food had no taste. so my solution was to move away. it was awful. and it is something i wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. and that includes you."
-jim, the office
i'm all out of words, and i'm all out of tears. i'm done with forgiveness, shaking it off, moving on, and i'm even more done with blaming myself for how much it hurts. my only thought is... why delude ourselves with friendship, when being strangers is just as effective, and doesn't waste my time?
half-truths. omissions. white lies. sparing my feelings. it's all a nice way of saying the same terrible thing.
the ironic thing is that i'd actually felt bad for all the things i'd said that one time. i'd even considered myself unfair, thought maybe it was an overreaction. surely you remember, my epic meltdown. but looking back, i was spot-on, and then some. every word was well-deserved, and probably far kinder and more loving than it should have been.
i've considered the ways to articulate, or express, just how angry i am. with you, with me, and especially with the absence of any sort of apology. i'm angry about what was said and done, but even more so about how humiliated i was when i finally got the truth. that all my defenses crumbled, my foolishness was laid clearly before me. it had to come full circle, trickling down to me, as i stood beside you. i'm a failure, a liar, a wreck, a contradiction, on so many levels, but at least i told you who i was.
have you any idea how many people tried to tell me that you and i were mere manipulation? and how many times i said, with conviction, no, you don't understand. despite the insufferable flow from their mouth, they always tell me the truth, listen to me when i tell them to stop, confide in me and i in them, and support me when i really, truly need the help. despite all the things you see or in the case of most, don't see, they would never intentionally hurt me or lie to me.
i was so convinced, and it makes me want to crawl into a hole, or just stop trying with anyone, to learn that those people knew more than i did, despite my vehement defense. this is further compounded by the fact that you haven't apologized, for this or anything else. i have long pondered our philosophies on life; humility and confidence, honesty and reservation, how one finds validation. and while my route isn't the easiest, i'll take how i feel any day over making someone else feel this way.
as far as my future, please, i'm not that desperate.
-jim, the office
i'm all out of words, and i'm all out of tears. i'm done with forgiveness, shaking it off, moving on, and i'm even more done with blaming myself for how much it hurts. my only thought is... why delude ourselves with friendship, when being strangers is just as effective, and doesn't waste my time?
half-truths. omissions. white lies. sparing my feelings. it's all a nice way of saying the same terrible thing.
the ironic thing is that i'd actually felt bad for all the things i'd said that one time. i'd even considered myself unfair, thought maybe it was an overreaction. surely you remember, my epic meltdown. but looking back, i was spot-on, and then some. every word was well-deserved, and probably far kinder and more loving than it should have been.
i've considered the ways to articulate, or express, just how angry i am. with you, with me, and especially with the absence of any sort of apology. i'm angry about what was said and done, but even more so about how humiliated i was when i finally got the truth. that all my defenses crumbled, my foolishness was laid clearly before me. it had to come full circle, trickling down to me, as i stood beside you. i'm a failure, a liar, a wreck, a contradiction, on so many levels, but at least i told you who i was.
have you any idea how many people tried to tell me that you and i were mere manipulation? and how many times i said, with conviction, no, you don't understand. despite the insufferable flow from their mouth, they always tell me the truth, listen to me when i tell them to stop, confide in me and i in them, and support me when i really, truly need the help. despite all the things you see or in the case of most, don't see, they would never intentionally hurt me or lie to me.
i was so convinced, and it makes me want to crawl into a hole, or just stop trying with anyone, to learn that those people knew more than i did, despite my vehement defense. this is further compounded by the fact that you haven't apologized, for this or anything else. i have long pondered our philosophies on life; humility and confidence, honesty and reservation, how one finds validation. and while my route isn't the easiest, i'll take how i feel any day over making someone else feel this way.
as far as my future, please, i'm not that desperate.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
emotional masochism?
a lot of strange things have happened with me and relationships over the years. when they're good (and most of the time they are) i love to hold onto those memories and feelings any way i can. i stash away letters, pictures, videos, mementos, and anything else that reminds me of how that relationship enrich(es/ed) my life.
but for some reason, when they turn sour, they can't just curdle and be done with it. it has to hurt in a really profound way. that's only happened a few times, sometimes for a good reason and sometimes for reasons i have never understood, but it has always been hard.
this is probably why i was surprised when i came across some pictures from high school. for one reason or another, i'd held onto them; put them away in boxes and select photo albums. as i went through my stuff and tried to figure out what to do with it today, i was struck by how many of those pictures i still had and how much i still wish everything hadn't changed. though i still tell myself that we've got a lot of time, and sometimes, time changes things.
and then there are other, less pleasant, aspects of holding onto such mementos. once upon a time, i went through a break-up that was the hardest thing i've ever had to do. and i've done difficult things. at the time, i couldn't even cope with organizing those memories, so i put all the letters, pictures, cd's, and gifts i'd ever received from him into a large brown envelope. i completely forgot about the envelope, as it was stashed inside a box, and then shoved into the deepest regions of my closet. today, my friends, i uncovered that envelope. looking through all the letters and pictures, i still didn't want to throw them away. i've realized that, over time, your mind starts to make those memories and letters and everything about another person into something else. perhaps it's because moving on is so hard, and maybe impossible if you don't. you have to find a way to make it worse than how you feel, and all the bad things you remember are directly proportional to how much you don't (or didn't) want to get out of bed. or maybe it's because you find new people to fill the gaps, and you forget about why you had those gaps in the first place; why that person was so important to you.
finding all these things was bittersweet for me. it showed me that all those memories weren't as i remembered them at all. and while it hurt a bit to see it all, seemingly frozen in time, immune from all the things that were eventually said and done, i was relieved to find that, in the end, there is nothing to regret.
but for some reason, when they turn sour, they can't just curdle and be done with it. it has to hurt in a really profound way. that's only happened a few times, sometimes for a good reason and sometimes for reasons i have never understood, but it has always been hard.
this is probably why i was surprised when i came across some pictures from high school. for one reason or another, i'd held onto them; put them away in boxes and select photo albums. as i went through my stuff and tried to figure out what to do with it today, i was struck by how many of those pictures i still had and how much i still wish everything hadn't changed. though i still tell myself that we've got a lot of time, and sometimes, time changes things.
and then there are other, less pleasant, aspects of holding onto such mementos. once upon a time, i went through a break-up that was the hardest thing i've ever had to do. and i've done difficult things. at the time, i couldn't even cope with organizing those memories, so i put all the letters, pictures, cd's, and gifts i'd ever received from him into a large brown envelope. i completely forgot about the envelope, as it was stashed inside a box, and then shoved into the deepest regions of my closet. today, my friends, i uncovered that envelope. looking through all the letters and pictures, i still didn't want to throw them away. i've realized that, over time, your mind starts to make those memories and letters and everything about another person into something else. perhaps it's because moving on is so hard, and maybe impossible if you don't. you have to find a way to make it worse than how you feel, and all the bad things you remember are directly proportional to how much you don't (or didn't) want to get out of bed. or maybe it's because you find new people to fill the gaps, and you forget about why you had those gaps in the first place; why that person was so important to you.
finding all these things was bittersweet for me. it showed me that all those memories weren't as i remembered them at all. and while it hurt a bit to see it all, seemingly frozen in time, immune from all the things that were eventually said and done, i was relieved to find that, in the end, there is nothing to regret.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
finding validation.
once upon a time, a guy broke up with me (or claimed to break up with me) out of apathy. because he simply didn't care enough about me... who i was and what i did wasn't enough to generate him caring... i believe "mediocrity" was the word he used for me... though i've worked so hard to purge the memory that i might be mistaken.
and for a while, once upon a time, i actually believed that there was some truth to all the things he said. i racked my brain trying to figure out all the things i'd done wrong. and as hard as i worked, i couldn't escape the realization that, no this wasn't a dream, someone actually said that to me.
ultimately, what it made me was angry, and that anger later led to determination. and probably some form of bitterness and apathy. i don't really know, but i worry more about looking ahead than back.
and suddenly, maybe today or yesterday or even a few weeks ago, i felt as though i woke up. as though this past year hit me all at once. my year of chinese and countless responsibilities, my beautiful children. of moving away and fitting in, of making friends with people i love deeply, from all sorts of different backgrounds and lifestyles. of seeing the great wall before i died and finally making it to russia, and making more friends along the way. and despite how awful he made me feel about a social circle at starbucks... because apparently i was supposed to think myself above all my friends there... how many times those friends have e-mailed me to cheer me on... encouraged me to think big and fight hard to achieve all the things i want.
methinks my year has been beyond spectacular. all my fears have slowly been vanquished by success and all the people i love have slowly helped me find all the pieces of myself. i've learned that deep, meaningful love is measured in more ways than one and manifests itself in countless others.
2 years in dating exile and i've learned a lot about what it means to find one's own validation.
yeah, that break-up was bullshit.
and for a while, once upon a time, i actually believed that there was some truth to all the things he said. i racked my brain trying to figure out all the things i'd done wrong. and as hard as i worked, i couldn't escape the realization that, no this wasn't a dream, someone actually said that to me.
ultimately, what it made me was angry, and that anger later led to determination. and probably some form of bitterness and apathy. i don't really know, but i worry more about looking ahead than back.
and suddenly, maybe today or yesterday or even a few weeks ago, i felt as though i woke up. as though this past year hit me all at once. my year of chinese and countless responsibilities, my beautiful children. of moving away and fitting in, of making friends with people i love deeply, from all sorts of different backgrounds and lifestyles. of seeing the great wall before i died and finally making it to russia, and making more friends along the way. and despite how awful he made me feel about a social circle at starbucks... because apparently i was supposed to think myself above all my friends there... how many times those friends have e-mailed me to cheer me on... encouraged me to think big and fight hard to achieve all the things i want.
methinks my year has been beyond spectacular. all my fears have slowly been vanquished by success and all the people i love have slowly helped me find all the pieces of myself. i've learned that deep, meaningful love is measured in more ways than one and manifests itself in countless others.
2 years in dating exile and i've learned a lot about what it means to find one's own validation.
yeah, that break-up was bullshit.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
when sad, i find it often works to buy something you don't need
okay, just because i bought myself an ipod nano doesn't mean i'm not sad that chris left today. wow, double-negatives.
it's been about 6 months since my ipod died, and i finally broke down and bought myself a replacement. i figure... i could get 80gb, but i don't bloody need 80gb. come to think of it, nobody needs that much! this thing carries 1,000 songs. i could listen to it all the way from ulaanbatar to moscow and probably still have space leftover. i think i'm set.
today was a little weird. i went to the jade market to pick up my awesome stamp, engraved with my chinese name. i could only stay a short time, though, because all the green almost made me suffer a seizure. bought travel guides. slept. did my laundry. walked around because the sun was out. shopped. bought my nano.
and spent an unusual amount of time laughing.
i said yesterday that i really have nothing to complain about. which is funny, since i spend a lot of time complaining. or maybe reflecting. i don't know! but truthfully, all things have culminated in God putting me right here, and that's bigger than anything i ever imagined for myself.
but seriously, i just laughed today, for a lot of reasons. as a going away present, chris wrote me a letter, crammed with a lot of things, one of them being advice. and one piece of advice in particular about dating. encouragement, if you will. a reminder that i'm really good at selling myself short. as i normally do, i took the things he said and thought about them. sometimes i conclude that he's a jerk and proceed to tell him so, but most of the time, they're just harsh truths. i went online, where little reminders about my past dating choices popped up around me. so i thought about it. about the circumstances and what it did to me and what i became. and i just laughed, because it actually hurt as much as it did at the time. at the absurdity. not that all my choices or the fact that it hurt at the time were absurd. but a few, yes. and that, to me, today, was funny.
remind me to stop selling myself short.
it's been about 6 months since my ipod died, and i finally broke down and bought myself a replacement. i figure... i could get 80gb, but i don't bloody need 80gb. come to think of it, nobody needs that much! this thing carries 1,000 songs. i could listen to it all the way from ulaanbatar to moscow and probably still have space leftover. i think i'm set.
today was a little weird. i went to the jade market to pick up my awesome stamp, engraved with my chinese name. i could only stay a short time, though, because all the green almost made me suffer a seizure. bought travel guides. slept. did my laundry. walked around because the sun was out. shopped. bought my nano.
and spent an unusual amount of time laughing.
i said yesterday that i really have nothing to complain about. which is funny, since i spend a lot of time complaining. or maybe reflecting. i don't know! but truthfully, all things have culminated in God putting me right here, and that's bigger than anything i ever imagined for myself.
but seriously, i just laughed today, for a lot of reasons. as a going away present, chris wrote me a letter, crammed with a lot of things, one of them being advice. and one piece of advice in particular about dating. encouragement, if you will. a reminder that i'm really good at selling myself short. as i normally do, i took the things he said and thought about them. sometimes i conclude that he's a jerk and proceed to tell him so, but most of the time, they're just harsh truths. i went online, where little reminders about my past dating choices popped up around me. so i thought about it. about the circumstances and what it did to me and what i became. and i just laughed, because it actually hurt as much as it did at the time. at the absurdity. not that all my choices or the fact that it hurt at the time were absurd. but a few, yes. and that, to me, today, was funny.
remind me to stop selling myself short.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
that one time
"...think it'll be all right if i never leave my apartment till i'm old?"
-holly, p.s. i love you
a recent topic of interest has been pain that makes you wish that you could die. i'm not talking about physical trauma. i'm talking about disembodied pain, the kind that is so far inside you that you wish you could go tear it out, though you wouldn't know where to start.
i mean, people die for physical reasons all the time. something inside you stops working, and thus, you stop working. it may or may not hurt so much that sleep or unconsciousness or maybe even death are preferred. but for many, if you lie there or do what you're told long enough, that pain goes away.
but we explored this a little further: can you ever die of a broken heart, of actual emotional pain? most have heard the disembodied voice, the one from that indefinable part of yourself that screams that something is very, very wrong.
i spent a summer incapacitated. i went to work because i had to, ate because i had to, and planned my semester because i had to. and once in a while, i even smiled, because of the people in my life. and though i kept on moving, i can attest that there were days, weeks, even months that i woke up and didn't want to move. that i wished that i could just lie there as long as it took for whatever thing that was broken inside me to heal.
right now, i feel that way. i wish i could go to sleep for a few days or weeks, and wake up when it doesn't hurt anymore. i'm spent. i just want to call into work and ask if i can come back in a week, after not moving for the next 7 days. surely, it can't hurt that much then. i go to sleep to stop from hurting and wake up feeling like i hadn't slept at all.
can't i, please?
-holly, p.s. i love you
a recent topic of interest has been pain that makes you wish that you could die. i'm not talking about physical trauma. i'm talking about disembodied pain, the kind that is so far inside you that you wish you could go tear it out, though you wouldn't know where to start.
i mean, people die for physical reasons all the time. something inside you stops working, and thus, you stop working. it may or may not hurt so much that sleep or unconsciousness or maybe even death are preferred. but for many, if you lie there or do what you're told long enough, that pain goes away.
but we explored this a little further: can you ever die of a broken heart, of actual emotional pain? most have heard the disembodied voice, the one from that indefinable part of yourself that screams that something is very, very wrong.
i spent a summer incapacitated. i went to work because i had to, ate because i had to, and planned my semester because i had to. and once in a while, i even smiled, because of the people in my life. and though i kept on moving, i can attest that there were days, weeks, even months that i woke up and didn't want to move. that i wished that i could just lie there as long as it took for whatever thing that was broken inside me to heal.
right now, i feel that way. i wish i could go to sleep for a few days or weeks, and wake up when it doesn't hurt anymore. i'm spent. i just want to call into work and ask if i can come back in a week, after not moving for the next 7 days. surely, it can't hurt that much then. i go to sleep to stop from hurting and wake up feeling like i hadn't slept at all.
can't i, please?
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
i haven't decided
"honesty is the best policy."
or so the saying goes.
i remembered a song i used to listen to in college. and it's a bit trite, but i've seen a lot of truth in it over the years:
i was thinking just the other day
some things are better left undone
some battles better left un-won
some sad songs better left unsung
some fires are better left unfed
some pages better left unread
some words are better left unsaid
-mxpx, unsaid
it's simple, really. if you never say anything, you don't run the risk of feeling foolish.
the interesting thing is that inconvenient honesty seems to compel me to other things. it seems to open my eyes to unexpected aspects of my life that are otherwise ignored.
the past year has been a large lesson in learning not to complain. in building faith through patience. i'm hoping that my pained and awkward honesty produces useful realizations.
or so the saying goes.
i remembered a song i used to listen to in college. and it's a bit trite, but i've seen a lot of truth in it over the years:
i was thinking just the other day
some things are better left undone
some battles better left un-won
some sad songs better left unsung
some fires are better left unfed
some pages better left unread
some words are better left unsaid
-mxpx, unsaid
it's simple, really. if you never say anything, you don't run the risk of feeling foolish.
the interesting thing is that inconvenient honesty seems to compel me to other things. it seems to open my eyes to unexpected aspects of my life that are otherwise ignored.
the past year has been a large lesson in learning not to complain. in building faith through patience. i'm hoping that my pained and awkward honesty produces useful realizations.
Monday, September 24, 2007
"i just want to lie on the beach and eat hot dogs. that's all i've ever wanted."
"happy birthday to you."
or so the saying goes.
my birthday came very suddenly this year. unlike so many years before, this one was not wrought with anticipation or big plans for parties, or with excitement over, finally, being able to go out with friends. of not having to get that stupid, obligatory black stamp on my hand every time i saw kindred fall. this year, it's come a lot like my 18th birthday - without notice. i remember turning 18 very vividly. my new friends all bought me small presents, tokens of their new affection, we had dinner and watched a movie together. i remember it being slightly awkward because, after all, we barely knew each other. honestly, i didn't even expect that much, and i remember feeling very grateful that they all thought of me.
this year, i didn't relish the idea of having to plan anything. why stress in a place i still really don't understand and then spend money i don't have? anyway, i'm going to seek satisfaction in having dinner with a few friends tomorrow night. it should be a lovely way to remember that i'm 22 and that all the awesome birthdays are over.
but, of course, no birthday is incomplete without buying yourself a present, right? when i thought about the things i wanted for my birthday, such a decision wasn't easy. taiwan is absolutely overwrought with clothes and accessories, that i simply feel overwhelmed with all the colors and options. i wanted something unique - something very me.
and then it hit me. of course! the perfect thing to give myself for making it 22 years... arguably 4 years longer than i was supposed to. so, my friends, i have a new piercing. it's been about 3 years since my parents warned me against this. to their credit, they got used to the nose piercing, but when i tried a second one, that was met with resistance. their argument was that, after allowing me to slide on the nose, if they were paying tuition, i needed to respect a few of their rules - no tattoos or piercings. given that they allowed me pretty much every other freedom and they didn't pester me with questions about where i went, what i did, or who i dated, i resisted throughout the rest of college. it was a fair requirement and it was simple. after i had my degree, they told me, i was allowed to do what i pleased. so for birthday 22, i put another hole in my left ear. i like it. i think it's tasteful. but it hurts like hell.
hey-o.
or so the saying goes.
my birthday came very suddenly this year. unlike so many years before, this one was not wrought with anticipation or big plans for parties, or with excitement over, finally, being able to go out with friends. of not having to get that stupid, obligatory black stamp on my hand every time i saw kindred fall. this year, it's come a lot like my 18th birthday - without notice. i remember turning 18 very vividly. my new friends all bought me small presents, tokens of their new affection, we had dinner and watched a movie together. i remember it being slightly awkward because, after all, we barely knew each other. honestly, i didn't even expect that much, and i remember feeling very grateful that they all thought of me.
this year, i didn't relish the idea of having to plan anything. why stress in a place i still really don't understand and then spend money i don't have? anyway, i'm going to seek satisfaction in having dinner with a few friends tomorrow night. it should be a lovely way to remember that i'm 22 and that all the awesome birthdays are over.
but, of course, no birthday is incomplete without buying yourself a present, right? when i thought about the things i wanted for my birthday, such a decision wasn't easy. taiwan is absolutely overwrought with clothes and accessories, that i simply feel overwhelmed with all the colors and options. i wanted something unique - something very me.
and then it hit me. of course! the perfect thing to give myself for making it 22 years... arguably 4 years longer than i was supposed to. so, my friends, i have a new piercing. it's been about 3 years since my parents warned me against this. to their credit, they got used to the nose piercing, but when i tried a second one, that was met with resistance. their argument was that, after allowing me to slide on the nose, if they were paying tuition, i needed to respect a few of their rules - no tattoos or piercings. given that they allowed me pretty much every other freedom and they didn't pester me with questions about where i went, what i did, or who i dated, i resisted throughout the rest of college. it was a fair requirement and it was simple. after i had my degree, they told me, i was allowed to do what i pleased. so for birthday 22, i put another hole in my left ear. i like it. i think it's tasteful. but it hurts like hell.
hey-o.
Saturday, September 08, 2007
environmentalism for amateurs
"the times, they are a-changin."
or so the saying goes.
global warming. what do i think about it? to be completely honest, i'm not sure how i feel about it. these days, it seems like questioning the concept always produces a very specific response. the person stares at you in disbelief, as if you've just questioned the existence of gravity. their jaw drops a bit. you can sense their thoughts running rapidly through their mind, as they try to pick an appropriate thing to say to you. you see them discarding the most offensive ones in hopes of finding something that suits both your comment and their relationship to you. ah, here's one... "how can you say that?"
"it hasn't been researched very long, and i'm very confused. researchers tell me that you can feel the world warming up during our warm season, yet the news reports that we've had the coldest winter in a decade, so..."
"don't be ridiculous; it's a fact. the world is warming up."
"sure."
or so the saying goes.
global warming. what do i think about it? to be completely honest, i'm not sure how i feel about it. these days, it seems like questioning the concept always produces a very specific response. the person stares at you in disbelief, as if you've just questioned the existence of gravity. their jaw drops a bit. you can sense their thoughts running rapidly through their mind, as they try to pick an appropriate thing to say to you. you see them discarding the most offensive ones in hopes of finding something that suits both your comment and their relationship to you. ah, here's one... "how can you say that?"
"it hasn't been researched very long, and i'm very confused. researchers tell me that you can feel the world warming up during our warm season, yet the news reports that we've had the coldest winter in a decade, so..."
"don't be ridiculous; it's a fact. the world is warming up."
"sure."
to the dismay to some of my republican family members, i am, indeed, an environmentalist. okay, so i do a lot of things to their dismay. i believe in walking whenever i have the chance, in public transportation, in energy-efficient products, and in driving fuel-efficient vehicles. certainly, some things are unavoidable. no doubt, we are often forced to buy cars instead of using public transportation because of our location, particularly in the states. i understand this. but i am whole-heartedly against abusing our natural resources. this is not because i think the world is heating up or that it will one day explode. it's must simpler than that. and in terms of my reasoning, i direct your attention to psalm 19:
the heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament shows His handiwork. day unto day utters speech and night unto night reveals knowledge. there is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. their line has gone out through all the earth and their words to the end of the world.
or isaiah 55:
for as the rain comes down, and the snow from heaven, and do not return there, but water the earth, and make it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall My word be that goes forth from My mouth; it shall not return to Me void, but it shall accomplish what I please, and it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it. for you shall go out with joy, and be led out with peace; the mountains and the hills shall break forth into singing before you, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
these passages have always struck me as extremely powerful. while people often quote passages that claim that we have been given dominion over the world, my mind is constantly drawn to these passages. God likens his Word, His being, His truth, and His glory with the things of nature. He speaks of even the dormant natural objects around us proclaiming His name. of the many metaphors the writers of these passages may have chosen to explain the Word, it is interesting that they found these the most powerful and poetic. yet we continue to rip away at this. many a religion has claimed that divinity actually inhabits these objects, but i think that this image is even more powerful. nature is an expression of the glory of God, of His presence around us. though we tear it down in the name of humanity and the advancement of civilization, all these things abound without our help. they, quite literally, come directly from God, without our hand at all. and in their silence, they shout louder than everything around us, as our world becomes deafened to His call by the day. how foolish would be if we, then, remove it all? the things that we can't reproduce, the things which praise Him without any human intervention, of which, praises resonate even in the starkest stillness. their worship screams louder than any of the things we erect.
when i climbed mt. rinjani this summer, one of the most noticeable aspects of elevation is the removal of all human sounds. you cannot hear cars, or planes, or boats, or the white, monotonous buzz of something as plain as electricity. for the first time, possibly ever, i heard nothing. God says that we can hear Him in a still, small voice, and on top of the mountain, i think i understood the meaning of that phrase for the very first time. with the extraneous noises removed, you can hear a whisper of His glory so loud that almost compels you to cover your ears, see such a small glimpse that it's almost blinding. the trees clapped their hands and the mountains sung, but it was not as we might expect, with all innocuous sensory stimulants around us - the kind that almost make us numb. it was in the stillness, in the absolute quiet that i could hear His glory, and the shouts, the proclamations of His handiwork, weren't even audible. despite our ability to push the sound barrier to ever-increasing limits, how much more amazing is it that one does not even need to hear anything to be utterly overwhelmed by the shouting of His creation?
i once read an essay by a jewish ethicist that explained, as clearly as he could, why he believed in environmentalism. he argued that he saw the world as God's body - the physical manifestation of something we could not otherwise understand. he saw protecting the environment as simply a way of honoring and praising God. as one does not desecrate the temple, so should one respect the natural world around us. he encouraged his readers not to think of themselves as having dominion over the world, but as having been entrusted to take care of the world.
i am not, and have never been, scientifically inclined. you can throw research and data at me, and it will not affect me. with all the research on why we're dying so much or what will surely happen to us if we don't stop, i am no more compelled to change anything. but when faced with something as moving as the glory of God, shouting from the tops of mt. rinjani, i am certain that it should be - nay - it must be preserved.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
she told me, son, fear is the heart of love
"true love means never having to say you're sorry."
or so the saying goes.
if heaven and hell decide
that they both are satisfied
illuminate the "no"s on their vacancy signs
if there's no one beside you
when your soul embarks
then i'll follow you into the dark
-death cab
"you're beautiful" is all he could muster. fatigued and frustrated, he forced himself to believe that it culminated everything that they couldn't articulate. it was as if they had said everything through the unspoken, through the nuances in expression that only they could understand and the swift, imperceptible brushes of arms and hands. her smile communicated more than she could say, even when asked point blank. she knew that she could speak, if she could simply sit down and think it through, that she could speak eloquently. but every time she tried, it was choked back by blatant, inconvenient fear. surely, they could pull it together enough to simply say what they meant, but it couldn't be done. it was too difficult, too painful to explore it, so they remained reserved. she had to avoid verbalizing what she really meant, because it contradicted who she was and what she wanted to be. and he never wanted that for her. so they chose to bury the words, even to pretend that they couldn't find them. but in the midst of collapse, of compromise, it was clear. so clear, as if they were screaming the words in each others' faces but in a language only they understood.
"i think you're beautiful." it was a language anybody could understand, on any level they wanted. within it, everything unsaid dissipated. she knew, absolutely, that it encompassed everything they meant, everything she had hoped to say but could only say in silences, in awkward pauses, in all the nonsensical, ambiguous facial expressions she conjured. her response: a sincere, authoritative kiss and a coy smile. "maybe." the air around them was potent with "maybe." it was as precise as it could be.
"maybe."
or so the saying goes.
if heaven and hell decide
that they both are satisfied
illuminate the "no"s on their vacancy signs
if there's no one beside you
when your soul embarks
then i'll follow you into the dark
-death cab
"you're beautiful" is all he could muster. fatigued and frustrated, he forced himself to believe that it culminated everything that they couldn't articulate. it was as if they had said everything through the unspoken, through the nuances in expression that only they could understand and the swift, imperceptible brushes of arms and hands. her smile communicated more than she could say, even when asked point blank. she knew that she could speak, if she could simply sit down and think it through, that she could speak eloquently. but every time she tried, it was choked back by blatant, inconvenient fear. surely, they could pull it together enough to simply say what they meant, but it couldn't be done. it was too difficult, too painful to explore it, so they remained reserved. she had to avoid verbalizing what she really meant, because it contradicted who she was and what she wanted to be. and he never wanted that for her. so they chose to bury the words, even to pretend that they couldn't find them. but in the midst of collapse, of compromise, it was clear. so clear, as if they were screaming the words in each others' faces but in a language only they understood.
"i think you're beautiful." it was a language anybody could understand, on any level they wanted. within it, everything unsaid dissipated. she knew, absolutely, that it encompassed everything they meant, everything she had hoped to say but could only say in silences, in awkward pauses, in all the nonsensical, ambiguous facial expressions she conjured. her response: a sincere, authoritative kiss and a coy smile. "maybe." the air around them was potent with "maybe." it was as precise as it could be.
"maybe."
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
is that all right, is that all right, is that all right with you?
"here's lookin' at you, kid."
or so the saying goes.
gilgamesh had enkidu. orestes had pylades. david had jonathan.
and joy? well.
once upon a time, joy met layce.
"Because we have a moment here, let me tell you that I have recently become a secret connoisseur of 'last looks'. You know the way people look at you when they believe it's for the last time? I've started collecting these looks. "
-drew, elizabethtown
there is no good way of saying it, of ever saying goodbye. i thought having this semester off would prepare me, but it all happened so fast - much faster than i thought it would. "you're my best friend, and i don't know how to express how much i will miss you. deeply. unequivocally. immeasurably." i wanted to say it, but i couldn't. it was too much. too many last looks in one day. "i love you, but i don't know how to do anything about it. i'm stuck, within myself and all the things i want." a combination of liberation and the stifling boundaries of being stuck inside the desire for something bigger, something more, and the hope that today, or any day, what we want will line up again. i love you, more than you could ever understand, but merely saying the words isn't enough. if i love you this much, why would i ever leave? they say that when you have this, if you're smart, you'll never let it go. i try not to think of it that way. i try to hold onto the hope that we let each other go because it's unselfish. because it's what you do if it really is love. i'm only sorry it took 20 years to find you, and 21 to love you and everything you contribute to my life. it seemed too long, and i hope you know that, despite it all, knowing you made that pain worth it. we both know that if it hadn't hurt that much, you and i wouldn't exist. i wish you'd been there to see it happen: the ups and downs, and the almost unnatural cruelty of extracting him. i always thought that extraction of him would lead to a different, better him, but it led me to you instead. despite my complaining, i ask myself always, what would i do without you? all the years of not being picked finally led me to you. you, the one who takes my side. flannery said that a good man is hard to find. and he is, but i've met good men. but a woman like you, a good friend like you, someone who is as consistent as you. you're the kind of person that takes 20 years to find. i know, because i've looked.
or so the saying goes.
gilgamesh had enkidu. orestes had pylades. david had jonathan.
and joy? well.
once upon a time, joy met layce.
"Because we have a moment here, let me tell you that I have recently become a secret connoisseur of 'last looks'. You know the way people look at you when they believe it's for the last time? I've started collecting these looks. "
-drew, elizabethtown
there is no good way of saying it, of ever saying goodbye. i thought having this semester off would prepare me, but it all happened so fast - much faster than i thought it would. "you're my best friend, and i don't know how to express how much i will miss you. deeply. unequivocally. immeasurably." i wanted to say it, but i couldn't. it was too much. too many last looks in one day. "i love you, but i don't know how to do anything about it. i'm stuck, within myself and all the things i want." a combination of liberation and the stifling boundaries of being stuck inside the desire for something bigger, something more, and the hope that today, or any day, what we want will line up again. i love you, more than you could ever understand, but merely saying the words isn't enough. if i love you this much, why would i ever leave? they say that when you have this, if you're smart, you'll never let it go. i try not to think of it that way. i try to hold onto the hope that we let each other go because it's unselfish. because it's what you do if it really is love. i'm only sorry it took 20 years to find you, and 21 to love you and everything you contribute to my life. it seemed too long, and i hope you know that, despite it all, knowing you made that pain worth it. we both know that if it hadn't hurt that much, you and i wouldn't exist. i wish you'd been there to see it happen: the ups and downs, and the almost unnatural cruelty of extracting him. i always thought that extraction of him would lead to a different, better him, but it led me to you instead. despite my complaining, i ask myself always, what would i do without you? all the years of not being picked finally led me to you. you, the one who takes my side. flannery said that a good man is hard to find. and he is, but i've met good men. but a woman like you, a good friend like you, someone who is as consistent as you. you're the kind of person that takes 20 years to find. i know, because i've looked.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
i'll tell you straight up...
"son, you'd better check yo'self before you wreck yo'self."
or so the saying goes.
i am spontaneously and inexplicably growing balls all over the place lately, even in the most awkward and borderline inappropriate situations. maybe it's because i really don't think i have anything to lose anymore. only took 4 some-odd years.
but i like it. honesty is liberating. watch yourself; you're probably next.
or so the saying goes.
i am spontaneously and inexplicably growing balls all over the place lately, even in the most awkward and borderline inappropriate situations. maybe it's because i really don't think i have anything to lose anymore. only took 4 some-odd years.
but i like it. honesty is liberating. watch yourself; you're probably next.
Friday, May 04, 2007
i'm gonna miss you, like i miss the ocean when i go to sleep, man it's gonna break my heart - mason jennings
"the first cut is the deepest."
or so the saying goes.
today's predominant topic of conversation was a reflection of the difficulty of finding truly faithful people. nobody's perfect, but i've realized how much i've come to accept a second-string role. not that acceptance doesn't frustrate me at times. i'm simply well-acquainted with the concept of other people getting picked over me. i think i can be a good friend, but i do realize that i become increasingly apathetic when i start to notice a few patterns. things like: not getting a phone call, making plans and having them broken for other people (unless it's the queen of england, this really shouldn't happen, and even then, you might want to ask if your friend can come along), consistently having others picked before me, or general boredom. yes, even in college, it turns out that some social constructs really never change.
my mom always used to tell me that i should feel lucky if i can find one truly faithful person who will always, no matter what, pick me first. she said a good way to conceptualize this is to imagine every person i know has won an amazing, all-expense paid trip to hawaii, but can only take one person. who do i think they'd pick? if i think it would be me, there's my answer. the disheartening truth is, however, that one of those people is moving away in about two weeks. i've said it once, twice, a dozen times, and i'll reiterate: i'm absolutely not okay with it. i'm going to feel a profound void when she's gone. she's my ally. my solution for today, however, is to live in denial.
i've usually been an advocate of many chances. and i know as well as anyone that nobody's perfect. but i'm finding that as school begins to fade away, i need to be more selective about some of the people in my life. not selective about who i should treat with kindness. that's everyone. or about who i should see, because i will see or spend time with a variety of people. but about who i feel is worth my genuine effort. about what i say. and about surrounding myself with people who encourage, edify, and challenge me. those people are difficult to find, but they are worth more than 10 of those who make me feel anxious or insecure.
or so the saying goes.
today's predominant topic of conversation was a reflection of the difficulty of finding truly faithful people. nobody's perfect, but i've realized how much i've come to accept a second-string role. not that acceptance doesn't frustrate me at times. i'm simply well-acquainted with the concept of other people getting picked over me. i think i can be a good friend, but i do realize that i become increasingly apathetic when i start to notice a few patterns. things like: not getting a phone call, making plans and having them broken for other people (unless it's the queen of england, this really shouldn't happen, and even then, you might want to ask if your friend can come along), consistently having others picked before me, or general boredom. yes, even in college, it turns out that some social constructs really never change.
my mom always used to tell me that i should feel lucky if i can find one truly faithful person who will always, no matter what, pick me first. she said a good way to conceptualize this is to imagine every person i know has won an amazing, all-expense paid trip to hawaii, but can only take one person. who do i think they'd pick? if i think it would be me, there's my answer. the disheartening truth is, however, that one of those people is moving away in about two weeks. i've said it once, twice, a dozen times, and i'll reiterate: i'm absolutely not okay with it. i'm going to feel a profound void when she's gone. she's my ally. my solution for today, however, is to live in denial.
i've usually been an advocate of many chances. and i know as well as anyone that nobody's perfect. but i'm finding that as school begins to fade away, i need to be more selective about some of the people in my life. not selective about who i should treat with kindness. that's everyone. or about who i should see, because i will see or spend time with a variety of people. but about who i feel is worth my genuine effort. about what i say. and about surrounding myself with people who encourage, edify, and challenge me. those people are difficult to find, but they are worth more than 10 of those who make me feel anxious or insecure.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
not gonna lie...
"treat others as you want to be treated."
or so the saying goes.
i say that it didn't hurt, because it shouldn't have. i was purposely avoiding it. i pretend it didn't bother me. i feign to be more disdainful than i really am. i only smirk because i believe that everyone can see plainly that i'm merely pretending. it's an act, all of it. i act as if it's an inside joke only between you and me because we are the only people who know. you and me. you play along, because it's awkward. not just the kind of awkward that comes and goes because you and i come and go. the kind of awkward that you immediately want to obliterate because acknowledging it jeopardizes everything that comprises you and me. there can be no you and me, not even the simplest version of you and me, if that awkwardness seeps through. if it is remotely visible to those around us.
and i laugh, all the while hoping that i can control the spasms in my face long enough to make the obligatory eye contact with you, to force the smile out, when really, all i want to say is that you hurt my feelings. and i can hold that smile, if only for a fleeting instant - fortunately the only instant i need. but if i look at you longer than that, i know that you can see it. you can see my laughter metamorphose into vulnerability - the corners of my mouth twitching uncontrollably, the softening of my eyes from playful mockery to subtle dejection. if it's any longer than that moment. i may be blonde, or perhaps i was drunk, or maybe a few years of this has made me resilient or positive or hopeful, but i'm not indestructible. yet your eyes plead with me to be so, coax me to be so, manipulate me to be so, because, let's be reasonable, it wasn't long enough to hurt that much.
it is not, and has never been, as fine as we pretend it is. i know it, though i pretend i don't. and when you see my face after that short moment, that moment i can never seem to control, i think you know it, too.
i tell the truth here, to my non-existent blog-reader, because i otherwise lack the courage to say anything.
but i know, and now my blog knows, that it hurt. it really, deeply did.
or so the saying goes.
i say that it didn't hurt, because it shouldn't have. i was purposely avoiding it. i pretend it didn't bother me. i feign to be more disdainful than i really am. i only smirk because i believe that everyone can see plainly that i'm merely pretending. it's an act, all of it. i act as if it's an inside joke only between you and me because we are the only people who know. you and me. you play along, because it's awkward. not just the kind of awkward that comes and goes because you and i come and go. the kind of awkward that you immediately want to obliterate because acknowledging it jeopardizes everything that comprises you and me. there can be no you and me, not even the simplest version of you and me, if that awkwardness seeps through. if it is remotely visible to those around us.
and i laugh, all the while hoping that i can control the spasms in my face long enough to make the obligatory eye contact with you, to force the smile out, when really, all i want to say is that you hurt my feelings. and i can hold that smile, if only for a fleeting instant - fortunately the only instant i need. but if i look at you longer than that, i know that you can see it. you can see my laughter metamorphose into vulnerability - the corners of my mouth twitching uncontrollably, the softening of my eyes from playful mockery to subtle dejection. if it's any longer than that moment. i may be blonde, or perhaps i was drunk, or maybe a few years of this has made me resilient or positive or hopeful, but i'm not indestructible. yet your eyes plead with me to be so, coax me to be so, manipulate me to be so, because, let's be reasonable, it wasn't long enough to hurt that much.
it is not, and has never been, as fine as we pretend it is. i know it, though i pretend i don't. and when you see my face after that short moment, that moment i can never seem to control, i think you know it, too.
i tell the truth here, to my non-existent blog-reader, because i otherwise lack the courage to say anything.
but i know, and now my blog knows, that it hurt. it really, deeply did.
Monday, March 26, 2007
the church, christians, and the gross unpopularity of believing
"not all who wander are lost."
or so the saying goes.
"augustine just woke up with a broken heart
all this time, he's never been awake before
at thirty-one his whole world is a question mark
all this time, he's never been awake before
watching dreams that he once had
feed the flame inside his head
in the quiet desperation of the emptiness he said,
'there's got to be something more, than what i'm living for
i'm crying out to You...'"
nearly 3 years ago, i read augustine's confessions. and while i maintain that he's a bit dry, there was something about his story that captivated me, that felt like an iron clasp on my soul. i would never claim to know as much, to ever hope to change the world as much as he did, or even that i think as hard as he did, but i related to the things he said. growing up with a mother that believed fervently in God and practiced her religion with devotion, augustine found himself rebelling against her faith. he loved and respected her, but there was something about it that he could not accept, could not feel, could not practice with sincerity. so he searched, and made numerous bad choices in the process. he ran from God and from religion as he understood it. even though his mother tried and pleaded, he couldn't - wouldn't - change. it wasn't for many years and after many, many poor decisions that he found himself before God, finally humbled. i have always felt that the most remarkable, powerful part of the story is not that he was lost and then was found, nor that he was blind and then saw. rather, i felt something when he was alone in a garden that one day, the day that everything changed. augustine, a man who thought he was too smart for everyone else, especially for tradition and God as his mother followed Him, cried out because he had reached the end of himself. because something inside his soul ached for what he knew he did not have, what he had been escaping for so long. i love that it defied logical explanation, that it was so intangible, but from which he could no longer hide.
i feel vindicated by augustine, because his belief in God was something that simply happened - a burst of faith that he later intellectualized. i walk so much by faith, perhaps not enough by academic and intellectual realization. i feel pulled, that there must be something more, that i can't run, yet there are aspects of christianity that i run away from, even hide from. augustine couldn't practice traditionally, but he knew God's presence when his soul cried out that day.
for the past year, perhaps even longer, i feel like i've been in the midst of an existential crisis. i've decided to stop attending church, and have spent significantly more time with people who have differing points of view on religion, faith, spirituality, the works. at times, i have even asked myself why i keep following Jesus. to those who don't see why this is a big deal, i think some perspective is necessary. while it's safe to say that temecula is a bubble, there exists dozens of sub-layers of bubbles beneath that one. there is temecula. then long-time temecula residents. then church-goers. then home-schoolers. and to top it all off, there are the home-schoolers of cornerstone academy - the christian home-schooling community where i spent 12 glorious years of my life. yes, i grew up in bubbles within bubbles. to those who think this must have been cruel, you misunderstand me. i liked being home-schooled. i liked growing up in the church. i wouldn't change any of it. when i'm honest, it's probably good, because i might have turned out to be a terror without such a morally strict community. with all this background, it's strange for me that i find myself so far away from where i once was. to some, it might seem natural, but to me, it's difficult.
i think the reason i haven't walked away from it all, however, is that, fundamentally, i believe in Jesus, what He said, and what He lived, died, and lived again for. my problem, i suppose, is all the small, unimportant characteristics of christianity today. church feels like it's so much about saying or doing or knowing the right thing, that it doesn't even feel sincere for me to participate. i sing the words, but they're simply words. i don't feel them resonate in my soul anymore. the jargon is probably what bothers me the most. things like: "God put it on my heart to..."
i've always hated phrases like that, because it makes anything that follows it irrefutable. if you told me God told you to do something, am i going to argue with you? me, argue against the very voice of God? and when i'm struggling with something - with a job, a relationship, school - i don't need to hear that it's because i'm not in communion enough with God, because i haven't gone to church, or because i don't pray enough. unfortunately, these are all cookie-cutter, classic aspects of christians today. they make me writhe with frustration, because people who struggle or who don't hold fast to that sort of faith in God cannot relate. i can't have a discussion with someone who hasn't found his or her place in the cosmic hugeness of God and tell that person that i heard God, that i know what God told me. i also feel silly making such assumptions. i believed God's will was a lot of things, and the majority of them have blown up in my face, revealing new purpose and direction in my life. so i've stopped feeling that in my heart, that i know that this is what God wants because His ways aren't mine. i tell others that some things make sense or that i believe everything happens for a reason and that God is intimately connected with my existence, but i don't claim to know what's going on. for all the bad/unexpected things that have happened in my life, i am grateful for their results, and i choose to abide by a good attitude and constant movement.
my problem lies with christian sub-culture rather than the faith itself. we separate ourselves with fences made of jargon, cross necklaces, and the gross blatancy that we disapprove of the vast stupidity of humans.
true, it seems counterproductive to assign such a cliche to something to which i align my life and even claim to be my salvation. and it's fair enough that postmodern culture is effective enough at this without my help. i would argue that the labels are unfair, but we often make ourselves easy targets. just browse websites like myspace or have a trivial conversation or two. we're easy to spot. our favorite books consist of the purpose-driven life and the bible, or maybe a little c.s. lewis if you're very lucky. it angers me to see "blue like jazz" as the "best book ever" and no mention of dickens or plath or flannery or tolstoy or chaucer or homer or austen. we just make it so easy, because we don't venture outside of the comfortable. we say "f-ing" when the whole world knows that what we really mean is "fucking." and of course, there's the constant talk of "praise the Lord," "grace," and true "love." yet the terms are so steeped in subcultural meanings that they have disintegrated into mere words, void of any genuine meaning or action. we speak of grace, but quickly shake our heads without listening or trying to understand. the world is full of black and white, but many people only feel the judgment, the lack of redemption, the inherent absence of His-ness in their relationships with christians.
i believe that, deep down, we are seeking righteousness. we do love others, but we present ourselves in all the wrong ways. we don't let them get too close, lest we be termed hypocrites. i've discovered in all the most painful ways that being wrong is not hypocritical if you can own up to it, if you can tell someone when they're wrong, yet admit your shortcomings as well. love God. follow Him whole-heartedly. know your faith. know that there is black and white, not just gray. seek His will, and actively pursue intimacy and purpose. but be still as well. find out what makes a person move, and they will want to know what moves you. and He, if He is real and if He is there, will pique their interest, will open them up to who He is and what it means to follow.
i pray sincerely, the way that i know how, the way that feels natural. separate yourself from the subculture, as tempting as it is. and be.
on a separate, though related, topic, i wanted to touch on another phenomena that i have observed about modern intellectual culture. these are the qualities of spirituality, non-commitment, and homogeneity. we claim that the world would be fine so long as people would seek inner peace or religion would separate itself from all other faculties - from education, politics, entertainment. what i don't understand is why, when we are so critical of religion, so detailed about how it contradicts itself, we are so vague about how we see purpose in our lives. it's as though a person can't possibly hope to live progressively if one has a religion or hasn't invented one's own spirituality - a spirituality which states that nobody's wrong and nobody's right. except maybe buddhism. but even buddhists are radical. they lock themselves up in monastaries, seeking enlightenment, because they are so convinced that their ways are right.
one of my best friends (my best friend?) is catholic. we talk about religion all the time, because we both ascribe to a set of beliefs. i am protestant because i believe luther was right, though i appreciate a lot about the catholic church. about commitment. about beauty and tradition. we talk about how uncool we are for picking a side. what people hate to admit is that committing to a side means that we think we're right and they're wrong. it must. it doesn't mean we don't respect those who choose otherwise, nor will we kill someone who contradicts us. but we will tell them that they're wrong. there is something wrong with a society that lives only by personal conviction - by only personal spirituality, which won't admit anyone is right or wrong. religion forces a series of pleasant and unpleasant tasks to each of us. it forces us to be outside of ourselves, to align ourselves and be responsible to more than simply what is inside our heads. to stand up or sit down. to surrender ourselves. to love others. because our faith in God and our adherence to His will commands that we do so. because we believe that such a commitment yields absolute truth.
in a world of radicalism, i find it ironic that we lack the motivation to be radical about the state of our souls or about truth. we pick sides all the time, but somehow lack the ability to do so in religion.
as i step into my future, i am slowly finding how much i pray for what augustine had. i pray for the conviction to cry out to God, to stick to God, to know God, to yield to God. i pray that God will humble me as he was humbled; i pray for a broken heart that finds its only solace in Him. i pray for the ability to say "yes, there is one God, only one way, and i know it. i surrender." i pray against mere personal philosophy, mere inner peace, mere spirituality. yet i also pray for his cynicism towards the concept that all must know Him the same way, for his inability to simply slip into what christianity appears to be rather than what it means. i pray for his sincerity, for his desire to know God because He is God, not because it's simply what christians do, what appears holiest. and i pray that my genuine commitment to a genuine faith is what motivates others towards God, not a mere attempt to adhere to goodness nor an ability to hide my shortcomings from others. i pray.
"...augustine, all his fears keep falling out
all this time, he's never been awake before
finding out all his dreams aren't panning out
all this time, he's never been awake before
but he's glad to be alive
and he's dying to be met
in the quiet desperation of the emptiness he said,
'there's got to be something more, than what i'm living for
i'm crying out to You
hey, i give it all away
nothing i was holding back remains
hey, i give it all away
looking for the grace of God today...'"
-switchfoot
or so the saying goes.
"augustine just woke up with a broken heart
all this time, he's never been awake before
at thirty-one his whole world is a question mark
all this time, he's never been awake before
watching dreams that he once had
feed the flame inside his head
in the quiet desperation of the emptiness he said,
'there's got to be something more, than what i'm living for
i'm crying out to You...'"
nearly 3 years ago, i read augustine's confessions. and while i maintain that he's a bit dry, there was something about his story that captivated me, that felt like an iron clasp on my soul. i would never claim to know as much, to ever hope to change the world as much as he did, or even that i think as hard as he did, but i related to the things he said. growing up with a mother that believed fervently in God and practiced her religion with devotion, augustine found himself rebelling against her faith. he loved and respected her, but there was something about it that he could not accept, could not feel, could not practice with sincerity. so he searched, and made numerous bad choices in the process. he ran from God and from religion as he understood it. even though his mother tried and pleaded, he couldn't - wouldn't - change. it wasn't for many years and after many, many poor decisions that he found himself before God, finally humbled. i have always felt that the most remarkable, powerful part of the story is not that he was lost and then was found, nor that he was blind and then saw. rather, i felt something when he was alone in a garden that one day, the day that everything changed. augustine, a man who thought he was too smart for everyone else, especially for tradition and God as his mother followed Him, cried out because he had reached the end of himself. because something inside his soul ached for what he knew he did not have, what he had been escaping for so long. i love that it defied logical explanation, that it was so intangible, but from which he could no longer hide.
i feel vindicated by augustine, because his belief in God was something that simply happened - a burst of faith that he later intellectualized. i walk so much by faith, perhaps not enough by academic and intellectual realization. i feel pulled, that there must be something more, that i can't run, yet there are aspects of christianity that i run away from, even hide from. augustine couldn't practice traditionally, but he knew God's presence when his soul cried out that day.
for the past year, perhaps even longer, i feel like i've been in the midst of an existential crisis. i've decided to stop attending church, and have spent significantly more time with people who have differing points of view on religion, faith, spirituality, the works. at times, i have even asked myself why i keep following Jesus. to those who don't see why this is a big deal, i think some perspective is necessary. while it's safe to say that temecula is a bubble, there exists dozens of sub-layers of bubbles beneath that one. there is temecula. then long-time temecula residents. then church-goers. then home-schoolers. and to top it all off, there are the home-schoolers of cornerstone academy - the christian home-schooling community where i spent 12 glorious years of my life. yes, i grew up in bubbles within bubbles. to those who think this must have been cruel, you misunderstand me. i liked being home-schooled. i liked growing up in the church. i wouldn't change any of it. when i'm honest, it's probably good, because i might have turned out to be a terror without such a morally strict community. with all this background, it's strange for me that i find myself so far away from where i once was. to some, it might seem natural, but to me, it's difficult.
i think the reason i haven't walked away from it all, however, is that, fundamentally, i believe in Jesus, what He said, and what He lived, died, and lived again for. my problem, i suppose, is all the small, unimportant characteristics of christianity today. church feels like it's so much about saying or doing or knowing the right thing, that it doesn't even feel sincere for me to participate. i sing the words, but they're simply words. i don't feel them resonate in my soul anymore. the jargon is probably what bothers me the most. things like: "God put it on my heart to..."
i've always hated phrases like that, because it makes anything that follows it irrefutable. if you told me God told you to do something, am i going to argue with you? me, argue against the very voice of God? and when i'm struggling with something - with a job, a relationship, school - i don't need to hear that it's because i'm not in communion enough with God, because i haven't gone to church, or because i don't pray enough. unfortunately, these are all cookie-cutter, classic aspects of christians today. they make me writhe with frustration, because people who struggle or who don't hold fast to that sort of faith in God cannot relate. i can't have a discussion with someone who hasn't found his or her place in the cosmic hugeness of God and tell that person that i heard God, that i know what God told me. i also feel silly making such assumptions. i believed God's will was a lot of things, and the majority of them have blown up in my face, revealing new purpose and direction in my life. so i've stopped feeling that in my heart, that i know that this is what God wants because His ways aren't mine. i tell others that some things make sense or that i believe everything happens for a reason and that God is intimately connected with my existence, but i don't claim to know what's going on. for all the bad/unexpected things that have happened in my life, i am grateful for their results, and i choose to abide by a good attitude and constant movement.
my problem lies with christian sub-culture rather than the faith itself. we separate ourselves with fences made of jargon, cross necklaces, and the gross blatancy that we disapprove of the vast stupidity of humans.
true, it seems counterproductive to assign such a cliche to something to which i align my life and even claim to be my salvation. and it's fair enough that postmodern culture is effective enough at this without my help. i would argue that the labels are unfair, but we often make ourselves easy targets. just browse websites like myspace or have a trivial conversation or two. we're easy to spot. our favorite books consist of the purpose-driven life and the bible, or maybe a little c.s. lewis if you're very lucky. it angers me to see "blue like jazz" as the "best book ever" and no mention of dickens or plath or flannery or tolstoy or chaucer or homer or austen. we just make it so easy, because we don't venture outside of the comfortable. we say "f-ing" when the whole world knows that what we really mean is "fucking." and of course, there's the constant talk of "praise the Lord," "grace," and true "love." yet the terms are so steeped in subcultural meanings that they have disintegrated into mere words, void of any genuine meaning or action. we speak of grace, but quickly shake our heads without listening or trying to understand. the world is full of black and white, but many people only feel the judgment, the lack of redemption, the inherent absence of His-ness in their relationships with christians.
i believe that, deep down, we are seeking righteousness. we do love others, but we present ourselves in all the wrong ways. we don't let them get too close, lest we be termed hypocrites. i've discovered in all the most painful ways that being wrong is not hypocritical if you can own up to it, if you can tell someone when they're wrong, yet admit your shortcomings as well. love God. follow Him whole-heartedly. know your faith. know that there is black and white, not just gray. seek His will, and actively pursue intimacy and purpose. but be still as well. find out what makes a person move, and they will want to know what moves you. and He, if He is real and if He is there, will pique their interest, will open them up to who He is and what it means to follow.
i pray sincerely, the way that i know how, the way that feels natural. separate yourself from the subculture, as tempting as it is. and be.
on a separate, though related, topic, i wanted to touch on another phenomena that i have observed about modern intellectual culture. these are the qualities of spirituality, non-commitment, and homogeneity. we claim that the world would be fine so long as people would seek inner peace or religion would separate itself from all other faculties - from education, politics, entertainment. what i don't understand is why, when we are so critical of religion, so detailed about how it contradicts itself, we are so vague about how we see purpose in our lives. it's as though a person can't possibly hope to live progressively if one has a religion or hasn't invented one's own spirituality - a spirituality which states that nobody's wrong and nobody's right. except maybe buddhism. but even buddhists are radical. they lock themselves up in monastaries, seeking enlightenment, because they are so convinced that their ways are right.
one of my best friends (my best friend?) is catholic. we talk about religion all the time, because we both ascribe to a set of beliefs. i am protestant because i believe luther was right, though i appreciate a lot about the catholic church. about commitment. about beauty and tradition. we talk about how uncool we are for picking a side. what people hate to admit is that committing to a side means that we think we're right and they're wrong. it must. it doesn't mean we don't respect those who choose otherwise, nor will we kill someone who contradicts us. but we will tell them that they're wrong. there is something wrong with a society that lives only by personal conviction - by only personal spirituality, which won't admit anyone is right or wrong. religion forces a series of pleasant and unpleasant tasks to each of us. it forces us to be outside of ourselves, to align ourselves and be responsible to more than simply what is inside our heads. to stand up or sit down. to surrender ourselves. to love others. because our faith in God and our adherence to His will commands that we do so. because we believe that such a commitment yields absolute truth.
in a world of radicalism, i find it ironic that we lack the motivation to be radical about the state of our souls or about truth. we pick sides all the time, but somehow lack the ability to do so in religion.
as i step into my future, i am slowly finding how much i pray for what augustine had. i pray for the conviction to cry out to God, to stick to God, to know God, to yield to God. i pray that God will humble me as he was humbled; i pray for a broken heart that finds its only solace in Him. i pray for the ability to say "yes, there is one God, only one way, and i know it. i surrender." i pray against mere personal philosophy, mere inner peace, mere spirituality. yet i also pray for his cynicism towards the concept that all must know Him the same way, for his inability to simply slip into what christianity appears to be rather than what it means. i pray for his sincerity, for his desire to know God because He is God, not because it's simply what christians do, what appears holiest. and i pray that my genuine commitment to a genuine faith is what motivates others towards God, not a mere attempt to adhere to goodness nor an ability to hide my shortcomings from others. i pray.
"...augustine, all his fears keep falling out
all this time, he's never been awake before
finding out all his dreams aren't panning out
all this time, he's never been awake before
but he's glad to be alive
and he's dying to be met
in the quiet desperation of the emptiness he said,
'there's got to be something more, than what i'm living for
i'm crying out to You
hey, i give it all away
nothing i was holding back remains
hey, i give it all away
looking for the grace of God today...'"
-switchfoot
Thursday, March 01, 2007
i struggle with forward motion
"don't count your chickens before they've hatched."
or so the saying goes.
it's finally happening. i think i'm finally crashing. the truth is, i thought i was too far beyond this for it to catch up with me. anybody who knows me will tell you that i'm a fighter, that i believe i am in control of my circumstances. life, love, happiness, and being okay are a choice, and i actively choose them all. i'm of the "it's not something you feel, it's something you do" school of thought. truthfully, i have not shed a single tear since september 30, 2006. i had somehow convinced myself that it was a competition; i needed to care even less than he seemed to care that day. and i resolved myself to feeling nothing, because it didn't deserve my attention. as badly as i knew it hurt, i was not going to let it affect me, and i was going to make it make me into a better person.
the funny thing is that i have realized that there are an infinite number of ways to not have to confront a situation. i kept telling myself that i'd face it eventually.
after my birthday.
after that paper.
after that presentation.
after school.
after christmas.
when the new year came.
when i was back in orange county.
after i was done saying goodbye to kyle.
when heather got back from london.
after las vegas.
when i heard from the jet program.
when school began for everyone.
after i'd paid the bills.
after thursday night... next week.
after the jet interview.
maybe after i hung out with some people.
after my date.
it destroyed me inside to hear the things he said, in the manner in which he said them, a week after i told myself that i could do this.
so i supposed that if i could just feel beautiful, act beautiful, want to be beautiful, have others confirm that i'm beautiful, then ultimately, truthfully, deep down, i would be fine. and i thought that this time, this time, i had done something right, because i was more okay than i had ever been. the reality of my situation is, however, that nobody escapes such a confrontation without being hurt. and my choice would be to get hurt in the beginning, or later on, painfully all at once, or let it stretch out.
even though i know that a part of me has crashed inside, i haven't let myself cry, because i feel that, in some small way, that means he wins, that he mattered more to me than i did to him. and it infuriates me to my very core. it's a relief to know that i'm okay and that i am, honestly, over it. i know it every time i have a conversation with another guy, i can feel it, because i never, ever let myself think about him with even the slightest affection when i'm talking to someone else. and i never want to go back.
my friend told me today that it's okay: we're allowed to be sad because that's just part of the whole painful process. it doesn't make me any weaker. and i suppose i've finally come to terms with this. i think that a part of me is simply annoyed, put off if you will, that this occupies any of my thoughts at any time of the day, that i'm wasting any energy on it.
mentally, i know that it hurt. mentally, i know i'm okay with being sad and letting it go in the process. but something wells up inside me every time that blocks it, that tells me no no no no you will not succumb to this, because your life is so much better now. look, it's made you into a better person, so why cry? maybe one day i will cry; cry because it's simply part of acceptance. then again, maybe i won't have to. maybe every day, it seems a little more absurd to do so. i haven't decided how i feel, other than that i'm simply surprised, and perhaps simply disappointed. that's okay, right? it's okay to feel that way, isn't it?
maybe i'm simply having a bad week. i suppose we all have those once in a while. a bad day or a bad shift or a bad drunken experience or a bad date or a bad phone call or a bad meal. on so many levels, i feel a little like there's something off about my life, but i can't identify what it is. i'm in transition, on so many levels, and maybe every so often, we grasp for normalcy, for a time when we thought something was dependable. i've believed since as long as life got a little more complicated than it used to be, however, that movement is important; that so long as i move, i am open to wherever He might want to move me. i want to stave off complacency, to be excited, and to know that i'm ready for whatever happens next. we all doubt; it's a part of the human experience. and it's been one of those weeks when i simply wanted to grasp for something or someone who knows exactly what it feels like to go from knowing and having specific purpose and motivation to complete self-reliance. so long as everyone else has school and tests, i'm not sure that they can know. i've wanted so badly to talk to someone to can confirm that it's supposed to be this confusing, to feel this awkward. he understands, but opening that door jeopardizes all my progress.
people say that there is no God or that He left us all to our own devices, but i can't believe that is true. stop trying so hard to answer these questions, because He always provides. stop answering them your own way, for He will give them in a better way. i am trying to have more faith in the answers he provides, especially in all ways i don't expect. today, i was drinking coffee, and evan, who i never see, sat down with me at starbucks and we talked about how it feels to be done with school. it was good to know, if even on the surface, that my feelings weren't unusual, that it was okay to be confused and to struggle with motivation. movement. seek, and you will not go unanswered. desire and ask, and you will be satisfied.
i dare you to move
i dare you to move
i dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
i dare you to move
i dare you to move
like today never happened before
it's so difficult, when you just want to lie down and say "this will pass, it always does." and i believe it does, but it's not how i operate. but movement, saying "i'm ready to be better and i'm ready to do what i know is right, just please please answer me..." God has always answered me. and the desire to know in my own way dissipates.
or so the saying goes.
it's finally happening. i think i'm finally crashing. the truth is, i thought i was too far beyond this for it to catch up with me. anybody who knows me will tell you that i'm a fighter, that i believe i am in control of my circumstances. life, love, happiness, and being okay are a choice, and i actively choose them all. i'm of the "it's not something you feel, it's something you do" school of thought. truthfully, i have not shed a single tear since september 30, 2006. i had somehow convinced myself that it was a competition; i needed to care even less than he seemed to care that day. and i resolved myself to feeling nothing, because it didn't deserve my attention. as badly as i knew it hurt, i was not going to let it affect me, and i was going to make it make me into a better person.
the funny thing is that i have realized that there are an infinite number of ways to not have to confront a situation. i kept telling myself that i'd face it eventually.
after my birthday.
after that paper.
after that presentation.
after school.
after christmas.
when the new year came.
when i was back in orange county.
after i was done saying goodbye to kyle.
when heather got back from london.
after las vegas.
when i heard from the jet program.
when school began for everyone.
after i'd paid the bills.
after thursday night... next week.
after the jet interview.
maybe after i hung out with some people.
after my date.
it destroyed me inside to hear the things he said, in the manner in which he said them, a week after i told myself that i could do this.
so i supposed that if i could just feel beautiful, act beautiful, want to be beautiful, have others confirm that i'm beautiful, then ultimately, truthfully, deep down, i would be fine. and i thought that this time, this time, i had done something right, because i was more okay than i had ever been. the reality of my situation is, however, that nobody escapes such a confrontation without being hurt. and my choice would be to get hurt in the beginning, or later on, painfully all at once, or let it stretch out.
even though i know that a part of me has crashed inside, i haven't let myself cry, because i feel that, in some small way, that means he wins, that he mattered more to me than i did to him. and it infuriates me to my very core. it's a relief to know that i'm okay and that i am, honestly, over it. i know it every time i have a conversation with another guy, i can feel it, because i never, ever let myself think about him with even the slightest affection when i'm talking to someone else. and i never want to go back.
my friend told me today that it's okay: we're allowed to be sad because that's just part of the whole painful process. it doesn't make me any weaker. and i suppose i've finally come to terms with this. i think that a part of me is simply annoyed, put off if you will, that this occupies any of my thoughts at any time of the day, that i'm wasting any energy on it.
mentally, i know that it hurt. mentally, i know i'm okay with being sad and letting it go in the process. but something wells up inside me every time that blocks it, that tells me no no no no you will not succumb to this, because your life is so much better now. look, it's made you into a better person, so why cry? maybe one day i will cry; cry because it's simply part of acceptance. then again, maybe i won't have to. maybe every day, it seems a little more absurd to do so. i haven't decided how i feel, other than that i'm simply surprised, and perhaps simply disappointed. that's okay, right? it's okay to feel that way, isn't it?
maybe i'm simply having a bad week. i suppose we all have those once in a while. a bad day or a bad shift or a bad drunken experience or a bad date or a bad phone call or a bad meal. on so many levels, i feel a little like there's something off about my life, but i can't identify what it is. i'm in transition, on so many levels, and maybe every so often, we grasp for normalcy, for a time when we thought something was dependable. i've believed since as long as life got a little more complicated than it used to be, however, that movement is important; that so long as i move, i am open to wherever He might want to move me. i want to stave off complacency, to be excited, and to know that i'm ready for whatever happens next. we all doubt; it's a part of the human experience. and it's been one of those weeks when i simply wanted to grasp for something or someone who knows exactly what it feels like to go from knowing and having specific purpose and motivation to complete self-reliance. so long as everyone else has school and tests, i'm not sure that they can know. i've wanted so badly to talk to someone to can confirm that it's supposed to be this confusing, to feel this awkward. he understands, but opening that door jeopardizes all my progress.
people say that there is no God or that He left us all to our own devices, but i can't believe that is true. stop trying so hard to answer these questions, because He always provides. stop answering them your own way, for He will give them in a better way. i am trying to have more faith in the answers he provides, especially in all ways i don't expect. today, i was drinking coffee, and evan, who i never see, sat down with me at starbucks and we talked about how it feels to be done with school. it was good to know, if even on the surface, that my feelings weren't unusual, that it was okay to be confused and to struggle with motivation. movement. seek, and you will not go unanswered. desire and ask, and you will be satisfied.
i dare you to move
i dare you to move
i dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
i dare you to move
i dare you to move
like today never happened before
it's so difficult, when you just want to lie down and say "this will pass, it always does." and i believe it does, but it's not how i operate. but movement, saying "i'm ready to be better and i'm ready to do what i know is right, just please please answer me..." God has always answered me. and the desire to know in my own way dissipates.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
on God, control, and the laborious process of moving on
"when one door closes, another one opens."
or so the saying goes.
"There was utter silence all around me. And now for the first time I knew what I had been doing. While I was reading, it had, once and again, seemed strange to me that the reading took so long; for the book was a small one. Now I knew that I had been reading it over and over – perhaps a dozen times. I would have read it forever, quick as I could, starting the first word again almost before the last was out of my mouth, if the judge had not stopped me. And the voice I read it in was strange to my ears. There was given to me a certainty that this, at last, was my real voice."
-c.s. lewis, till we have faces
i love this part of the story. for those who don't know, i wrote my senior thesis on it. it seemed appropriate, since i first read it in 8th grade and my understanding of the world has changed considerably since then.
i suppose i identify with orual. she's reading her complaints about the various injustices of her life to the gods, and she realizes that it never mattered that the world was unjust to her. somehow, she came in with a sense of entitlement. it's at this moment in the book that she sees her true self. that all her complaints never mattered to begin with. she keeps insisting that it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, but she doesn't move on until she realizes that what's fair and unfair to her is insignificant. how she reacts is. nobody will ever find it fair. acceptance of one's inability to change this or to change other people is significant.
a few weeks ago, i received an email. i didn't expect it and i still don't know how to respond to it, or even if i can respond to it. i think that when i'm honest with myself, it makes me a bit angry. it wasn't an apology or anything. perhaps it was just an attempt to move on, or to prove a point to me. but it came out of the bluest of blue depths. 4 months and no words after the fact.
when that obnoxious day that has burnt itself in the depths of my brain came last fall, i resorted to all the usual feelings. it's not fair, i didn't deserve it, i can't believe it, i thought it would be different this time, why is this happening to me. all the same questions, all over again. and i suppose it is fair that he told me that he wasn't happy before we went any further, but i do know that i didn't deserve it; i think most would agree that i deserved better.
they say that you can't control other people, just how your respond to them.
i've learned a great deal about this statement. it occurred to me that it didn't really matter what was and wasn't fair. it is what it is. i believe in a just God. and i believe in a faithful God. just because i wanted it to be different or better doesn't mean that He has to make it that way. He gives and takes away, according to His will, whether or not i find it fair. who am i to decide fair?
of my break-ups, this one has been the most liberating. orual stopped complaining when she realized that she couldn't control everything. i finally realized that beating the ground was also accepting defeat, and that constantly repeating to myself that it was so so so unfair was only driving me mad. fair or unfair, i had to change my approach. so i did, and it was difficult and painful and all the rest. but moving on has come far more naturally this time around. and the constant need to be with someone has begun to dissipate. for the first time since i was 16, i can honestly say that i'm okay with this, that i might actually prefer this.
as much as i love my faith, the church bothers me because all my years of growing up have instilled in me that i'm somehow incomplete until i find someone to fill the void. like marriage will be my miracle drug, and that when i meet him, i'll know. like i'm searching the world for the missing pieces of myself. since last september, this concept has perplexed me. why am i looking so hard, and why do i feel compelled to think of that as the beginning of my life. am i ignorant or just somebody that was meant to be alone? i like to think that my heart burns too much for relationship for this to be the case, but my attitude towards relationships is cynical at best. i'm so jaded by the supreme laziness i've experienced.
fair or unfair, right or wrong, things have changed. i'm of the opinion and joy is a choice we all make. i can run around asking why or i can accept that what is, simply is, and choose to let go. everything happens for a reason, and i've given up trying to understand why or why not. i'm only as stuck as i choose to be. life requires proactivity. in the spirit of joy and choosing it, i am grateful that all this has happened. it surprises me sometimes that this process has revealed so many anti-me characteristics. i'm more guarded, and i find that i care less. not so much that i would use another person, but enough that i can say done is done is done is done, and forget it. i don't like not caring, but i do like not getting hurt anymore. You have a purpose. damned if i know what it is, but i'm choosing to not look too hard for it. i'm sure it will be, in the most cosmic sense, more fair than any way i could envision it.
or so the saying goes.
"There was utter silence all around me. And now for the first time I knew what I had been doing. While I was reading, it had, once and again, seemed strange to me that the reading took so long; for the book was a small one. Now I knew that I had been reading it over and over – perhaps a dozen times. I would have read it forever, quick as I could, starting the first word again almost before the last was out of my mouth, if the judge had not stopped me. And the voice I read it in was strange to my ears. There was given to me a certainty that this, at last, was my real voice."
-c.s. lewis, till we have faces
i love this part of the story. for those who don't know, i wrote my senior thesis on it. it seemed appropriate, since i first read it in 8th grade and my understanding of the world has changed considerably since then.
i suppose i identify with orual. she's reading her complaints about the various injustices of her life to the gods, and she realizes that it never mattered that the world was unjust to her. somehow, she came in with a sense of entitlement. it's at this moment in the book that she sees her true self. that all her complaints never mattered to begin with. she keeps insisting that it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, but she doesn't move on until she realizes that what's fair and unfair to her is insignificant. how she reacts is. nobody will ever find it fair. acceptance of one's inability to change this or to change other people is significant.
a few weeks ago, i received an email. i didn't expect it and i still don't know how to respond to it, or even if i can respond to it. i think that when i'm honest with myself, it makes me a bit angry. it wasn't an apology or anything. perhaps it was just an attempt to move on, or to prove a point to me. but it came out of the bluest of blue depths. 4 months and no words after the fact.
when that obnoxious day that has burnt itself in the depths of my brain came last fall, i resorted to all the usual feelings. it's not fair, i didn't deserve it, i can't believe it, i thought it would be different this time, why is this happening to me. all the same questions, all over again. and i suppose it is fair that he told me that he wasn't happy before we went any further, but i do know that i didn't deserve it; i think most would agree that i deserved better.
they say that you can't control other people, just how your respond to them.
i've learned a great deal about this statement. it occurred to me that it didn't really matter what was and wasn't fair. it is what it is. i believe in a just God. and i believe in a faithful God. just because i wanted it to be different or better doesn't mean that He has to make it that way. He gives and takes away, according to His will, whether or not i find it fair. who am i to decide fair?
of my break-ups, this one has been the most liberating. orual stopped complaining when she realized that she couldn't control everything. i finally realized that beating the ground was also accepting defeat, and that constantly repeating to myself that it was so so so unfair was only driving me mad. fair or unfair, i had to change my approach. so i did, and it was difficult and painful and all the rest. but moving on has come far more naturally this time around. and the constant need to be with someone has begun to dissipate. for the first time since i was 16, i can honestly say that i'm okay with this, that i might actually prefer this.
as much as i love my faith, the church bothers me because all my years of growing up have instilled in me that i'm somehow incomplete until i find someone to fill the void. like marriage will be my miracle drug, and that when i meet him, i'll know. like i'm searching the world for the missing pieces of myself. since last september, this concept has perplexed me. why am i looking so hard, and why do i feel compelled to think of that as the beginning of my life. am i ignorant or just somebody that was meant to be alone? i like to think that my heart burns too much for relationship for this to be the case, but my attitude towards relationships is cynical at best. i'm so jaded by the supreme laziness i've experienced.
fair or unfair, right or wrong, things have changed. i'm of the opinion and joy is a choice we all make. i can run around asking why or i can accept that what is, simply is, and choose to let go. everything happens for a reason, and i've given up trying to understand why or why not. i'm only as stuck as i choose to be. life requires proactivity. in the spirit of joy and choosing it, i am grateful that all this has happened. it surprises me sometimes that this process has revealed so many anti-me characteristics. i'm more guarded, and i find that i care less. not so much that i would use another person, but enough that i can say done is done is done is done, and forget it. i don't like not caring, but i do like not getting hurt anymore. You have a purpose. damned if i know what it is, but i'm choosing to not look too hard for it. i'm sure it will be, in the most cosmic sense, more fair than any way i could envision it.
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