Boredom breeds unsettledness; a darkening restlessness that pushes and prods one to ill will of himself. Or herself, as the case may be. A severe dissatisfaction with one's current state of affairs. Though boredom itself is illusive when it comes to pin-pointing it as the cause of such contempt. There is no passion in boredom. And yet the frustration it fuels can manifest itself in a passionate way, thereby confusing those in which it comes in contact. Maybe it's not passion as much as it is aggression.
The ironic thing about boredom is that it can be cured in mere moments by the simplest of distractions, which can be good when it comes to small children, a long day at the office, or a sleepy Saturday afternoon. But what happens when boredom finds it's way into places like... your heart? When you're dealing with human beings and feelings, emotions, real people with whom you share a deep, meaningful connection?
Unfortunately, boredom is boredom, and it knows no bounds. What is now a heartfelt passion can subtly and slowly become heartfelt aggression, born out of a simple underlying frustration; a severe dissatisfaction with one's current state of affairs. And the cure remains; simple distraction.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Sunday, October 15, 2006
A Conversation with Myself
Do you think you need extra things in life for it to be worth it?
I don't know, but a little excitement would be nice.
Yeah, I just don't like to be bored.
Is being bored the same thing as needing a little extra excitement?
I think if you're passionate about something, you're not usually bored.
True, but can you just be passionate about life? What's that mean?
It's generally not life itself, but a motive for life, that you're passionate about.
What is life 'supposed' to be like? Are there blue prints anywhere?
Am I a horrible person for wanting life to be good?
Be honest, you want life to be really good; you want a perfect life.
I just want to be happy, I just want to be loved.
You stole those lyrics from a song. Come on, focus here.
What is it inside of me (inside all of us, really) that wants so badly to be wanted?
I don't know, but a little excitement would be nice.
Yeah, I just don't like to be bored.
Is being bored the same thing as needing a little extra excitement?
I think if you're passionate about something, you're not usually bored.
True, but can you just be passionate about life? What's that mean?
It's generally not life itself, but a motive for life, that you're passionate about.
What is life 'supposed' to be like? Are there blue prints anywhere?
Am I a horrible person for wanting life to be good?
Be honest, you want life to be really good; you want a perfect life.
I just want to be happy, I just want to be loved.
You stole those lyrics from a song. Come on, focus here.
What is it inside of me (inside all of us, really) that wants so badly to be wanted?
Note pad Scratches
Pride is a peculiar thing. It battles jealousy in the most ruthless of ways. In moments I feel that I'm unwilling to settle for second best, like it's a good thing. And then I realize it's only because I need to be told that I'm worth it, regardless of what place I come in.
And then, in other moments, I feel pride in who I am so much that it's obnoxious. Like how I honestly believe that I'm a good enough writer to string all these random note pad scratches into something that will shake your world in a radical way. Or at least in a way that makes some sort of sense.
Then all at once I'm hit with a humble spirit in which I beg for you to show me something new, teach me. I want to know why I feel so bored. Can you explain so I can understand? I've not always been this bored. This is the break I longed for.
And yet, this is my life, MY life; and I can make it what I want it to be... I just have to figure out what exactly I want it to be. Is that selfish? No. Because I am a person, with feelings, and I matter. Why do I feel like I'm trying to convince myself of that? It could be because I just stole that line from a movie. My own work is much more convincing.
But really, I don't understand most of life; like how I ended up at a random coffee shop in Long Beach, scribbling thoughts on an old freight Delivery note pad on my lunch break. Or how I just became aware of how close to 25 I am, while at the same time I feel like I'm still 15. How does that happen? I also don't understand how so much irresponsibility and personal indecisiveness has lead to a seemingly unconquerable mountain of debt in such an incredible short amount of time. If you had told me five years ago how things would really be right now, I would have laughed in your face; I would have never believed you. Why do I have a feeling that in another five years I will look back on today and say the exact same thing? I myself have no idea what I'm doing.
But I digress; I fear this is going no where.
And then, in other moments, I feel pride in who I am so much that it's obnoxious. Like how I honestly believe that I'm a good enough writer to string all these random note pad scratches into something that will shake your world in a radical way. Or at least in a way that makes some sort of sense.
Then all at once I'm hit with a humble spirit in which I beg for you to show me something new, teach me. I want to know why I feel so bored. Can you explain so I can understand? I've not always been this bored. This is the break I longed for.
And yet, this is my life, MY life; and I can make it what I want it to be... I just have to figure out what exactly I want it to be. Is that selfish? No. Because I am a person, with feelings, and I matter. Why do I feel like I'm trying to convince myself of that? It could be because I just stole that line from a movie. My own work is much more convincing.
But really, I don't understand most of life; like how I ended up at a random coffee shop in Long Beach, scribbling thoughts on an old freight Delivery note pad on my lunch break. Or how I just became aware of how close to 25 I am, while at the same time I feel like I'm still 15. How does that happen? I also don't understand how so much irresponsibility and personal indecisiveness has lead to a seemingly unconquerable mountain of debt in such an incredible short amount of time. If you had told me five years ago how things would really be right now, I would have laughed in your face; I would have never believed you. Why do I have a feeling that in another five years I will look back on today and say the exact same thing? I myself have no idea what I'm doing.
But I digress; I fear this is going no where.
Friday, October 06, 2006
Cycles of Time
They say that certain behaviors just cycle through from one generation to the next, to the next, to the next. You want to know what you'll look like in twenty years, take a good hard look at your parents.
What if your parents aren't there to look at? What if one or both of them left you, left each other? Does that mean you are doomed to do the same? Should you even try? What if you do try but find yourself falling into the same cycle over and over again?
My mom is a constant nag. She can shoot my dad down with just a look. I don't want to be like that. But I have found myself defaulting to that behavior time and time again. Fortunately I can recognize it and I do my best to correct it.
But what if I was unable to recognize it? What if I wasn't so aware of my behavior and couldn't see just how closely it had come to that of my mother?
I suppose the best we can do is look back, learn, and move forward. And for those who don't want to look back, for those who think they don't need to learn... cycle through, my friend.
What if your parents aren't there to look at? What if one or both of them left you, left each other? Does that mean you are doomed to do the same? Should you even try? What if you do try but find yourself falling into the same cycle over and over again?
My mom is a constant nag. She can shoot my dad down with just a look. I don't want to be like that. But I have found myself defaulting to that behavior time and time again. Fortunately I can recognize it and I do my best to correct it.
But what if I was unable to recognize it? What if I wasn't so aware of my behavior and couldn't see just how closely it had come to that of my mother?
I suppose the best we can do is look back, learn, and move forward. And for those who don't want to look back, for those who think they don't need to learn... cycle through, my friend.
Pain is there for a reason
I was watching "Grey's Anatomy" last night and they had a little girl on the show who had a disorder by which her body did not experience pain. I was thinking at first, "How nice would that be!?"
Since the girl couldn't feel pain, she thought she had super powers and would challenge people to hurt her. One little boy socked her in the stomach 50 times, once with a baseball bat. A bit freaked out by that story, the doctor runs a series of tests on her and finds that she has an incredible amount of internal bleeding.
They rush her into surgery and in all the frantic rush, the doctor utters a typically deep and piercing line, "She thought it was a super power to not feel anything, but pain is there for a reason."
Since then, that line has played over and over in my mind. "Pain is there for a reason." Pain, literally speaking, is the body's way of allerting the mind that something is wrong. Generally, it's so that we can take some sort of corrective action in efforts to not only fix the problem but to prevent it from becoming worse.
I think the same is true for emotional pain. Why do certain things hurt us so badly? Maybe it's our hearts way of allerting the mind to a deeper problem; something is wrong deep down inside and it needs to be dealt with. Emotional internal bleeding.
The initial symptoms are easy, but the diagnosis more difficult. Sometimes we have to put ourselves under the microscope and ex-ray the most hidden parts of who we are. Surgery is probably inevitable and recovery may prove to be the most challenging.
You could chose to live with the pain; decide that surgery and the complications that could arise (all the "what ifs") is just too great a risk. Or you can work through all that comes with tomorrow and resolve to live beyond the pain. You can't ignore the pain forever; eventually you are forced to make a decision.
It's never easy.
Since the girl couldn't feel pain, she thought she had super powers and would challenge people to hurt her. One little boy socked her in the stomach 50 times, once with a baseball bat. A bit freaked out by that story, the doctor runs a series of tests on her and finds that she has an incredible amount of internal bleeding.
They rush her into surgery and in all the frantic rush, the doctor utters a typically deep and piercing line, "She thought it was a super power to not feel anything, but pain is there for a reason."
Since then, that line has played over and over in my mind. "Pain is there for a reason." Pain, literally speaking, is the body's way of allerting the mind that something is wrong. Generally, it's so that we can take some sort of corrective action in efforts to not only fix the problem but to prevent it from becoming worse.
I think the same is true for emotional pain. Why do certain things hurt us so badly? Maybe it's our hearts way of allerting the mind to a deeper problem; something is wrong deep down inside and it needs to be dealt with. Emotional internal bleeding.
The initial symptoms are easy, but the diagnosis more difficult. Sometimes we have to put ourselves under the microscope and ex-ray the most hidden parts of who we are. Surgery is probably inevitable and recovery may prove to be the most challenging.
You could chose to live with the pain; decide that surgery and the complications that could arise (all the "what ifs") is just too great a risk. Or you can work through all that comes with tomorrow and resolve to live beyond the pain. You can't ignore the pain forever; eventually you are forced to make a decision.
It's never easy.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Great Expectations
Written: October 2, 2006
“You expected much, but see, it turned out to be little. What you brought home, I blew away. Why?” declares the Lord Almighty, “because of my house, which remains in ruin, while each of you is busy with his own house.” Haggai 1:9
I have been asking, “Why, God, why do you always take it away?” With desperate anguish I would cry out to God with these questions. Questions that were more like accusations really. Like he took away something that was rightfully mine. Something I had “brought home”, you might say.
Well here is my answer. Very clear, very straight forward. God was not first in my life and he would not settle for being replaced or ignored. He will take all that I “bring home” until I finally turn my focus from self to him. I cannot run my own life apart from the one who gave me the very life I try to lead. I cannot be self-sufficient no matter how hard I try. He will not have it.
Oh and the expectations. I expect great things. I expect far too much from all the wrong things. It’s true; I expected much and it turned out to be so very little, so very empty. I cannot fill my life on my own and expect it to mean much when my life is apart from God. I have been far too busy with “my own house” while allowing God’s house to fall to ruin. And somehow in the midst of that I expected great things. It’s not surprising now to see why my life has been filled with one disappointment after another. The fault does not always lay “out there”.
Earlier in the same chapter it says to “give careful thought to your ways.” It says, “you have planted much, but have harvested little. You eat, but never have enough. You drink, but never have your fill. You put on clothes, but are not warm. You earn wages, only to put them in a purse with holes in it.” (vs. 6)
How very true that is of me. I try so hard to be something so great. To be good enough. And nothing much seems to come from it. I harvest little. I “eat and drink” my way through life. Consuming as much as I can; “living life to the fullest” I call it. Taking so much from so many. And yet somehow am never satisfied. It is never enough. I turn to the ways of this world for comfort, to keep warm from the cold storm raging inside of me. I clothe myself with whatever is convenient; friends, shopping, parties, drinking and all the empty lies that promise so much. And still nothing; no lasting comfort. I work and work and earn and earn and somehow always come up short. Money is so very fleeting. My life is a purse with holes in it.
It is at the bottom of this pit where I find myself alone. Hopeless, I think. Yet in the very moment that I give up, the moment I relinquish control because I’m just not good enough and can no longer hold it all together… in the quiet desperation of that moment I hear, “I am with you.”
“You expected much, but see, it turned out to be little. What you brought home, I blew away. Why?” declares the Lord Almighty, “because of my house, which remains in ruin, while each of you is busy with his own house.” Haggai 1:9
I have been asking, “Why, God, why do you always take it away?” With desperate anguish I would cry out to God with these questions. Questions that were more like accusations really. Like he took away something that was rightfully mine. Something I had “brought home”, you might say.
Well here is my answer. Very clear, very straight forward. God was not first in my life and he would not settle for being replaced or ignored. He will take all that I “bring home” until I finally turn my focus from self to him. I cannot run my own life apart from the one who gave me the very life I try to lead. I cannot be self-sufficient no matter how hard I try. He will not have it.
Oh and the expectations. I expect great things. I expect far too much from all the wrong things. It’s true; I expected much and it turned out to be so very little, so very empty. I cannot fill my life on my own and expect it to mean much when my life is apart from God. I have been far too busy with “my own house” while allowing God’s house to fall to ruin. And somehow in the midst of that I expected great things. It’s not surprising now to see why my life has been filled with one disappointment after another. The fault does not always lay “out there”.
Earlier in the same chapter it says to “give careful thought to your ways.” It says, “you have planted much, but have harvested little. You eat, but never have enough. You drink, but never have your fill. You put on clothes, but are not warm. You earn wages, only to put them in a purse with holes in it.” (vs. 6)
How very true that is of me. I try so hard to be something so great. To be good enough. And nothing much seems to come from it. I harvest little. I “eat and drink” my way through life. Consuming as much as I can; “living life to the fullest” I call it. Taking so much from so many. And yet somehow am never satisfied. It is never enough. I turn to the ways of this world for comfort, to keep warm from the cold storm raging inside of me. I clothe myself with whatever is convenient; friends, shopping, parties, drinking and all the empty lies that promise so much. And still nothing; no lasting comfort. I work and work and earn and earn and somehow always come up short. Money is so very fleeting. My life is a purse with holes in it.
It is at the bottom of this pit where I find myself alone. Hopeless, I think. Yet in the very moment that I give up, the moment I relinquish control because I’m just not good enough and can no longer hold it all together… in the quiet desperation of that moment I hear, “I am with you.”
The Turning Point
Written January 6, 2006
my thoughts wander quickly in many diverted directions the instant
pressure is applied to this.. my heart...
should i date him? what does that mean? why do i feel like it's a
fatal disease? what's at the core of this issue; that it's him? or
that it's committment?
the double edge sword, the big bad C word... committment.
i cried to god one night... "what is this!? am i just completely
wrecked?!" he answered no, "I am not wrecked"... and yet i felt like
"... but you have a long way to go sweetie..." was not too far behind.
oh the unsettlement in my soul... fear, i decide, is my problem.
quickly to which the spirit reminds me, "there is no fear in love,
real love casts out all fear..."
do i think he can love me? really love me? do i even know what that
looks like? do i think anyone can love me... really love me? is it
worth the chance?
they say when you fall off your bike for the first time, the best
thing you can do is get right back on again... because the longer you
wait, the more fear will build in your heart untill it paralyzes
you... and you never get back on the bike again.
it's happening to me... i've fallen off my bike, and i'm waiting...
waiting ... waiting... to get back on... and i am so afraid... it has
paralyzed the very core of my being to the end of getting rid of the
bike completely. i don't ever want to ride it again.
and yet - i fear being alone... not just being single for a while, or
even years... that is not what i fear. i fear being alone forever...
living the rest of my life as lonily as i am right now.
is it possible that my fear of commitment will keep me alone for the
rest of my life? is this god or is this fear? and how do i know? test
the spirits... and see. taste the lord... and see... but how?
would i be with him now because there is nothing else available? or do i write off my feelings for him because i am too afraid to be happy... to admit that i love someone again? totally and completely... even with the faults, which i see through and through... ???
fear - what exactly do i fear?
that i will give my all and it will not be enough ... again.
that i will crumble for good if this doesn't work out.
that i put way too much pressure on relationships and yet i don't know how not to and that will ruin everything.
that what we have will not compare to what i had...
that i will constantly compare what i have to what i had... and that
will ruin everything.
but i will never know... i'll never know what could have been if i
don't try. and i don't think that this cycle we're in will stop
spinning untill i say ok and give it a shot. it will be great or it
won't... but i'll know. and i'll have faced my fear and will be better because of it... single in the end or not.
and the mole hill becomes a mountain untill i remind myself that to be someone's girlfriend is not a committment to be their wife. i have to get that through my head.
my thoughts wander quickly in many diverted directions the instant
pressure is applied to this.. my heart...
should i date him? what does that mean? why do i feel like it's a
fatal disease? what's at the core of this issue; that it's him? or
that it's committment?
the double edge sword, the big bad C word... committment.
i cried to god one night... "what is this!? am i just completely
wrecked?!" he answered no, "I am not wrecked"... and yet i felt like
"... but you have a long way to go sweetie..." was not too far behind.
oh the unsettlement in my soul... fear, i decide, is my problem.
quickly to which the spirit reminds me, "there is no fear in love,
real love casts out all fear..."
do i think he can love me? really love me? do i even know what that
looks like? do i think anyone can love me... really love me? is it
worth the chance?
they say when you fall off your bike for the first time, the best
thing you can do is get right back on again... because the longer you
wait, the more fear will build in your heart untill it paralyzes
you... and you never get back on the bike again.
it's happening to me... i've fallen off my bike, and i'm waiting...
waiting ... waiting... to get back on... and i am so afraid... it has
paralyzed the very core of my being to the end of getting rid of the
bike completely. i don't ever want to ride it again.
and yet - i fear being alone... not just being single for a while, or
even years... that is not what i fear. i fear being alone forever...
living the rest of my life as lonily as i am right now.
is it possible that my fear of commitment will keep me alone for the
rest of my life? is this god or is this fear? and how do i know? test
the spirits... and see. taste the lord... and see... but how?
would i be with him now because there is nothing else available? or do i write off my feelings for him because i am too afraid to be happy... to admit that i love someone again? totally and completely... even with the faults, which i see through and through... ???
fear - what exactly do i fear?
that i will give my all and it will not be enough ... again.
that i will crumble for good if this doesn't work out.
that i put way too much pressure on relationships and yet i don't know how not to and that will ruin everything.
that what we have will not compare to what i had...
that i will constantly compare what i have to what i had... and that
will ruin everything.
but i will never know... i'll never know what could have been if i
don't try. and i don't think that this cycle we're in will stop
spinning untill i say ok and give it a shot. it will be great or it
won't... but i'll know. and i'll have faced my fear and will be better because of it... single in the end or not.
and the mole hill becomes a mountain untill i remind myself that to be someone's girlfriend is not a committment to be their wife. i have to get that through my head.
2005 Archives: The Week of Wrestling
So I've had all week off from work.
Prior to this week, I didn't care much about having it off. I actually didn't want it off. Too much work to do at the office and not enough to do at home. I was only taking the week off because it was given to me.
Now that the week is almost over, I don't want to go back. I've been amazingly lazy all week and quite frankly, I've enjoyed it immensely. I don't think I've gotten out of bed before 9am except one morning I went to Orange County to have breakfast with a friend. I've visited family and friends, gone shopping, read a new book and sat around in my pajamas in the middle of the day.
All this time off has allowed my mind to wander down an old and beaten path... one I have not taken for a while. It's one full of illusive questions with even more allusive answers... like what am I doing with my life? Am I happy where I'm at? How did I even get here and is this where I meant to end up? I begin to analyze my life from a birds eye view until my vision blurs and I fall asleep with heavy feelings of saddened angst - fearing the eroding emotions of extreme unsettlement.
In such a heavy sleep I dream of memories long since abandoned to reality's light. Ah, and I see clearly the things that once made me smile and held me captive to the ideal that life can be fulfilling and wholly satisfying if only I held fast to myself. As a child I obstinately declared that I would forever refuse to take a job out of sheer need and I would never work for the sake of acquiring money. I would never sacrifice that which made me happy for that which made me rich... or at least stable. Have I given up such stance? And so I wrestle with the "childish" passion that resides deep within my soul.
I awake to a new morning, laden with a bitter sweat smile of a quickly ending week that has lead me down a long and winding road of soul searching... no, more like wrestling... soul wrestling. Yes, that is accurate. However stated, I woke up today and realized that the week is almost up and reality is close at hand.
Panic. I quickly review my week in fast forward, desperately searching for any glimmer of a future hope, a tiny piece of wisdom to bring solace... nothing... not even a reassuring peace that simply wrestling with life has made me stronger. I fear it's made me weaker. And so I sit and stare out the window... waiting for life to wander by in hopes that I might call out and it will hear me, turn and see my downcast spirit and carry me into something new.
Prior to this week, I didn't care much about having it off. I actually didn't want it off. Too much work to do at the office and not enough to do at home. I was only taking the week off because it was given to me.
Now that the week is almost over, I don't want to go back. I've been amazingly lazy all week and quite frankly, I've enjoyed it immensely. I don't think I've gotten out of bed before 9am except one morning I went to Orange County to have breakfast with a friend. I've visited family and friends, gone shopping, read a new book and sat around in my pajamas in the middle of the day.
All this time off has allowed my mind to wander down an old and beaten path... one I have not taken for a while. It's one full of illusive questions with even more allusive answers... like what am I doing with my life? Am I happy where I'm at? How did I even get here and is this where I meant to end up? I begin to analyze my life from a birds eye view until my vision blurs and I fall asleep with heavy feelings of saddened angst - fearing the eroding emotions of extreme unsettlement.
In such a heavy sleep I dream of memories long since abandoned to reality's light. Ah, and I see clearly the things that once made me smile and held me captive to the ideal that life can be fulfilling and wholly satisfying if only I held fast to myself. As a child I obstinately declared that I would forever refuse to take a job out of sheer need and I would never work for the sake of acquiring money. I would never sacrifice that which made me happy for that which made me rich... or at least stable. Have I given up such stance? And so I wrestle with the "childish" passion that resides deep within my soul.
I awake to a new morning, laden with a bitter sweat smile of a quickly ending week that has lead me down a long and winding road of soul searching... no, more like wrestling... soul wrestling. Yes, that is accurate. However stated, I woke up today and realized that the week is almost up and reality is close at hand.
Panic. I quickly review my week in fast forward, desperately searching for any glimmer of a future hope, a tiny piece of wisdom to bring solace... nothing... not even a reassuring peace that simply wrestling with life has made me stronger. I fear it's made me weaker. And so I sit and stare out the window... waiting for life to wander by in hopes that I might call out and it will hear me, turn and see my downcast spirit and carry me into something new.
2005 Archives: Pink
I am a hopeless romantic.
And I realized this at my niece's fourth birthday party last weekend. It was a princess party and she, of course, was the princess. She had her frilly pink princess dress on with a hot pink tearra that said "Happy Birthday".
She is a gorgeous, beautiful little girl. Porcelain white skin, wavy blond hair and the biggest, bluest adorable eyes I've ever seen. She has a goofy, innocent laugh and a smile that can make the grouchiest old man grin.
We didn't play "pin the tail on the donkey" but instead played "place the star on Tinkerbell's wand". She loves Tinkerbell, who coincidental is also a cute little blond girl, except that she can fly and there is this magical air about her. Which, I suppose, is what draws any of us to her.
I was sitting across the table from my niece at lunch, just watching her. It made me smile ever so slightly and I chuckled a little bit at her silliness. She looked up at me, furrows her brow and with all the gusto a little girl can muster up she demands to know "What's so funny!?" Which, of course, made me laugh harder and smile wider.
There is something captivating in that little girl's world that races straight to my heart and locks me in. Is it her innocence? Her pure assurance of happiness? Her giddy laughter that knows no end?
And I began to think - where does that go? What happens to all that laughter? At what point did I put the silliness aside and declare life to be nothing more than a chore - a serious, straight faced chore?
"Auntie watch!" She exclaimed, interrupting my random train of deep, methodical questioning. It's really a form of self-torcher, these questions. I don't know why I do that to myself.
I looked up to see this little girl in her pink princess dress, hands placed purposefully on her hips, knees just slightly bent, shaking her butt in the air. And through the laughter she sings, "Shake your smarty pants! Shake, shake your smarty pants!"
I don't think I have laughed as hard as I laughed that day in a very long time. And driving home, on the loneliness of the open freeway, I realized that she has what I long for, what every girl longs for. The pure, hopeful, silliness that settles deep in the bottom of every girls heart. The purity that makes you believe in people simply because they are people and the human soul has value. The hopeful belief that life is not all bad and that dreams are seen through to fruition more often than not. The silliness that carries life on with meaning and joy and laughter.
And I realized this at my niece's fourth birthday party last weekend. It was a princess party and she, of course, was the princess. She had her frilly pink princess dress on with a hot pink tearra that said "Happy Birthday".
She is a gorgeous, beautiful little girl. Porcelain white skin, wavy blond hair and the biggest, bluest adorable eyes I've ever seen. She has a goofy, innocent laugh and a smile that can make the grouchiest old man grin.
We didn't play "pin the tail on the donkey" but instead played "place the star on Tinkerbell's wand". She loves Tinkerbell, who coincidental is also a cute little blond girl, except that she can fly and there is this magical air about her. Which, I suppose, is what draws any of us to her.
I was sitting across the table from my niece at lunch, just watching her. It made me smile ever so slightly and I chuckled a little bit at her silliness. She looked up at me, furrows her brow and with all the gusto a little girl can muster up she demands to know "What's so funny!?" Which, of course, made me laugh harder and smile wider.
There is something captivating in that little girl's world that races straight to my heart and locks me in. Is it her innocence? Her pure assurance of happiness? Her giddy laughter that knows no end?
And I began to think - where does that go? What happens to all that laughter? At what point did I put the silliness aside and declare life to be nothing more than a chore - a serious, straight faced chore?
"Auntie watch!" She exclaimed, interrupting my random train of deep, methodical questioning. It's really a form of self-torcher, these questions. I don't know why I do that to myself.
I looked up to see this little girl in her pink princess dress, hands placed purposefully on her hips, knees just slightly bent, shaking her butt in the air. And through the laughter she sings, "Shake your smarty pants! Shake, shake your smarty pants!"
I don't think I have laughed as hard as I laughed that day in a very long time. And driving home, on the loneliness of the open freeway, I realized that she has what I long for, what every girl longs for. The pure, hopeful, silliness that settles deep in the bottom of every girls heart. The purity that makes you believe in people simply because they are people and the human soul has value. The hopeful belief that life is not all bad and that dreams are seen through to fruition more often than not. The silliness that carries life on with meaning and joy and laughter.
2005 Archives: Confessions of a Wonderful Childlike Happy
I admit it... sometimes, when I'm home by myself, and the lights are down low, and the radio is on, and no one is watching... I dance. I dance around the living room.
And I sing. I sing loud, as I dance around the living room. I sing loud - like no one is listening. I dance around - like no one is watching. And I do it all the time.
It makes me smile as few things can. It fills my heart with this strange, childlike, wonderful happy. And I am almost sure my eyes sparkle. Oh, and I laugh. I laugh outloud - at myself.
And I am happy.
And I sing. I sing loud, as I dance around the living room. I sing loud - like no one is listening. I dance around - like no one is watching. And I do it all the time.
It makes me smile as few things can. It fills my heart with this strange, childlike, wonderful happy. And I am almost sure my eyes sparkle. Oh, and I laugh. I laugh outloud - at myself.
And I am happy.
2005 Archives - TV: the bane of my existance
TV - the bane of my existance
Socialize? You mean with real human beings? Why? That would include confrontation and irritation and annoyance. Why put up with all that when I could just sit and watch people, effortlessly, on TV. I can cover all my emotional needs in one sitting - I need to be needed; Will & Grace needs me to watch so their ratings go up and they can stay on the air - I need to learn how to work together with other human beings; two words... reality TV... it's life, but on TV... without all the emotional damage of personal confrontation and irritation and annoyance. You get the picture. Why deal with real people and experience real community when I can just watch it from afar?
Let's be honest, shall we? People interfere with my self absorbed lifestyle. They encroach upon my territory and raise the other wise peaceful noise level. I prefer the sound of my own voice - reverberating off the shallow walls of my hollow life. I am selfish - I don't share. Socializing requires sharing - sharing space, sharing time, sharing conversations, sharing pieces of myself, my mind, my words. I am selfish with my words. I like to spend MY time contemplating MY words and thoughtfully, slowly, methodically placing each word in just the right place at just the right time so that it comes out just right - in MY mind.
I hate being rushed, put on the spot - it makes my brain freeze. My face gets all hot and my cheecks turn red... my throat tightens up, my palms get sweaty, my vision blurs... it's all I can do to remember the question at hand while I frantically search for an adequate answer. I don't need that - my blood pressure is high enough. People are a health hazard to me. I might be alergic. Seriously.
It's just safer to live through the TV - really.
Socialize? You mean with real human beings? Why? That would include confrontation and irritation and annoyance. Why put up with all that when I could just sit and watch people, effortlessly, on TV. I can cover all my emotional needs in one sitting - I need to be needed; Will & Grace needs me to watch so their ratings go up and they can stay on the air - I need to learn how to work together with other human beings; two words... reality TV... it's life, but on TV... without all the emotional damage of personal confrontation and irritation and annoyance. You get the picture. Why deal with real people and experience real community when I can just watch it from afar?
Let's be honest, shall we? People interfere with my self absorbed lifestyle. They encroach upon my territory and raise the other wise peaceful noise level. I prefer the sound of my own voice - reverberating off the shallow walls of my hollow life. I am selfish - I don't share. Socializing requires sharing - sharing space, sharing time, sharing conversations, sharing pieces of myself, my mind, my words. I am selfish with my words. I like to spend MY time contemplating MY words and thoughtfully, slowly, methodically placing each word in just the right place at just the right time so that it comes out just right - in MY mind.
I hate being rushed, put on the spot - it makes my brain freeze. My face gets all hot and my cheecks turn red... my throat tightens up, my palms get sweaty, my vision blurs... it's all I can do to remember the question at hand while I frantically search for an adequate answer. I don't need that - my blood pressure is high enough. People are a health hazard to me. I might be alergic. Seriously.
It's just safer to live through the TV - really.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Something about the seeds of time…
Losing your best friend is like blowing a hole through your abdomen; there becomes an obvious gaping emptiness in a critical part of your life. The human soul, however, is amazingly resilient. Somehow, rising up from the ashes are old friends, old loves, old passions that become like new to escort you through yet another era of time.
So easily can one be replaced with another that it demands to question the reason for one to have existed in the first place. And even more mysterious, the need for one to exist again. If indeed there be a lapse in time, during which one ceased to exist and yet was not replaced, what would happen then? Would the hole grow ever deeper, consuming all it could grasp except the one it truly needs?
So easily can one be replaced with another that it demands to question the reason for one to have existed in the first place. And even more mysterious, the need for one to exist again. If indeed there be a lapse in time, during which one ceased to exist and yet was not replaced, what would happen then? Would the hole grow ever deeper, consuming all it could grasp except the one it truly needs?
Become Anything
How does she feel
After the numbness wears away?
How does she smile
When the cause does not exist?
How does she, How does she?
How does he run
When his feet can’t find the path?
How does he crumble
When he can’t break into pieces?
How does he, how does he?
How do they cry
When they know nothing of expression?
How do they join
When they know nothing but disunity?
How do they, how do they?
She runs hard after one she knows
The only one who has always been there
That’s how she does, how she does anything
That’s he does, that’s how he does anything
It’s how they ever become, ever become anything.
After the numbness wears away?
How does she smile
When the cause does not exist?
How does she, How does she?
How does he run
When his feet can’t find the path?
How does he crumble
When he can’t break into pieces?
How does he, how does he?
How do they cry
When they know nothing of expression?
How do they join
When they know nothing but disunity?
How do they, how do they?
She runs hard after one she knows
The only one who has always been there
That’s how she does, how she does anything
That’s he does, that’s how he does anything
It’s how they ever become, ever become anything.
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