I hadn't really planned on seeing fireworks this holiday, but life rarely likes my plans. I guess the things we least expect can have pleasant outcomes.
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Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Friday, May 4, 2012
Revelations while frying...
Maybe I'm sentimental since I haven't fried fish in a while, or maybe it's because it's the end of the semester, but while I was cooking I had a revelation. Not one of the cooking variety; one of the "Wow! That's what's going on!" variety. You know, game-changers. Thinking over some of my past relationships (not that there have been many fish in the sea--sexual or platonic), I realized that not everyone who enters my life is meant to stay. Sometimes I try to hold on to people, hoping that things can remain the same. Sometimes I'm successful, others not so much. But I realize now that in doing so, I'm not only preventing them from fulfilling their mission, but I'm preventing myself from doing so as well.
I think we forget that we are temporal beings. We don't last forever. We're not meant to. Obvious? Sure. Considered? Not often. We get so wrapped up in trying to build things that will last--buildings, legacies, relationships--that we forget that things in this life, things in our life, are not designed to last. Don't get me wrong, certain things and people will remain with us for years. But no matter how long they can hold out, they too must end. Either we leave them, or they leave us. Finitude is hardwired into our existence. This doesn't have to be a fight, or even terrifying. It can be reassuring at times. A great example being school. I mean, I like school, but I can only handle so many more classes! What keeps me going is knowing that there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Still finite doesn't mean pointless. Though it may be finite, my time in school has a purpose in my life. (Heh. Even if it's to be my impetus for joining one of the Occupy movements.)
In the same way, I realize that every person who enters my life has a purpose. Some people are encouragement in times of need. Some people are teachers imparting bits of wisdom. Some people are cultivators helping me grow. And let's be honest, some people are tests, plain and simple! Nonetheless, there's always a purpose. And, like everything else, they're temporal, and, therefore, terminal. Trying to hold someone in place might keep them from being that moment, if you will, for someone else. More to the point, it might keep me from either being that moment for someone or from experiencing my next moment. Life is growth. Growth is change. The more we fight the current of change, the more we miss. What I can do, however, is make sure that I realize every person that I meet has a value. From the P.Oed grocery clerk who throws my eggs in a bag, to the kind lady at the dry cleaners, to the students who encourage by their dedication (haha! and those who don't), I can recognize that they all serve some purpose in my life. Conversely, I serve a purpose in theirs. Really, that's the beauty of it all: that inspiration and a smile can--just as heartache can--come from the least expected places.
Perhaps it wasn't just sentimentality. Perhaps it was. Whatever it was, I've learned people will come into and will leave my life, and that the duration of their time varies. What's important is making sure that I remain open to inevitable end just as much as I am the beginning.
Ha! Who knew fish were so wise?
I think we forget that we are temporal beings. We don't last forever. We're not meant to. Obvious? Sure. Considered? Not often. We get so wrapped up in trying to build things that will last--buildings, legacies, relationships--that we forget that things in this life, things in our life, are not designed to last. Don't get me wrong, certain things and people will remain with us for years. But no matter how long they can hold out, they too must end. Either we leave them, or they leave us. Finitude is hardwired into our existence. This doesn't have to be a fight, or even terrifying. It can be reassuring at times. A great example being school. I mean, I like school, but I can only handle so many more classes! What keeps me going is knowing that there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Still finite doesn't mean pointless. Though it may be finite, my time in school has a purpose in my life. (Heh. Even if it's to be my impetus for joining one of the Occupy movements.)
In the same way, I realize that every person who enters my life has a purpose. Some people are encouragement in times of need. Some people are teachers imparting bits of wisdom. Some people are cultivators helping me grow. And let's be honest, some people are tests, plain and simple! Nonetheless, there's always a purpose. And, like everything else, they're temporal, and, therefore, terminal. Trying to hold someone in place might keep them from being that moment, if you will, for someone else. More to the point, it might keep me from either being that moment for someone or from experiencing my next moment. Life is growth. Growth is change. The more we fight the current of change, the more we miss. What I can do, however, is make sure that I realize every person that I meet has a value. From the P.Oed grocery clerk who throws my eggs in a bag, to the kind lady at the dry cleaners, to the students who encourage by their dedication (haha! and those who don't), I can recognize that they all serve some purpose in my life. Conversely, I serve a purpose in theirs. Really, that's the beauty of it all: that inspiration and a smile can--just as heartache can--come from the least expected places.
Perhaps it wasn't just sentimentality. Perhaps it was. Whatever it was, I've learned people will come into and will leave my life, and that the duration of their time varies. What's important is making sure that I remain open to inevitable end just as much as I am the beginning.
Ha! Who knew fish were so wise?
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Twice, down this road...
Things are looking a bit familiar; it's both comforting and disturbing, though.
I've realized I'm (almost) full circle, here.
I'd like to say that I've learned my lesson. I suppose only time will tell.
This time, instead of impatiently running through, I'll take my time; feel it out. Every inch, every breath; I'll live in it.
I won't let myself get the best of me; I won't destroy my chances.
I'll be patient and I'll give my all, even if it breaks me: it'll be worth it; that much, I'm sure.
Full circle isn't such a bad thing, then (so long as the lesson's been learned).
It's a blessing, in disguise, really.
I won't mess this one up with my impatience.
I've realized I'm (almost) full circle, here.
I'd like to say that I've learned my lesson. I suppose only time will tell.
This time, instead of impatiently running through, I'll take my time; feel it out. Every inch, every breath; I'll live in it.
I won't let myself get the best of me; I won't destroy my chances.
I'll be patient and I'll give my all, even if it breaks me: it'll be worth it; that much, I'm sure.
Full circle isn't such a bad thing, then (so long as the lesson's been learned).
It's a blessing, in disguise, really.
I won't mess this one up with my impatience.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Just in time.
Just a quick thought before I slip into slumber:
You're not fighting time; you're fighting yourself.
I'm beginning to realize that usually when we think that time is running out, it's not. What is running out is our patience and our ability to sit in a given situation. Time isn't as short as we make it out to be--it was here well before us, and will be here well after us. We just need to make ourselves match its vibrations. They're a lot slower and more steady than we think.
In all, the things we think we are going to lose, can't be held by rushing. The things that we are losing, can't be held by wishing time back. We end up blaming time for our inability to recognize the moment for what it is: life; a connection; a moment in all its preciousness. We let our fear of loss cloud the moment, and when it has passed, we say it was because time was too short. We rush the moments past us by constantly seeing ourselves in their endings, living there while the moment is around us.
All that can be done is to sit; enjoy the moments for what they are--the feel of a hand in your own; the taste of a kiss; the sound of your name leaving a caring mouth; the warmth of a smile. Things that are meant to be in your life will be. People who are meant to be in your life will be. Everything else goes with time.
You're not fighting time; you're fighting yourself.
I'm beginning to realize that usually when we think that time is running out, it's not. What is running out is our patience and our ability to sit in a given situation. Time isn't as short as we make it out to be--it was here well before us, and will be here well after us. We just need to make ourselves match its vibrations. They're a lot slower and more steady than we think.
In all, the things we think we are going to lose, can't be held by rushing. The things that we are losing, can't be held by wishing time back. We end up blaming time for our inability to recognize the moment for what it is: life; a connection; a moment in all its preciousness. We let our fear of loss cloud the moment, and when it has passed, we say it was because time was too short. We rush the moments past us by constantly seeing ourselves in their endings, living there while the moment is around us.
All that can be done is to sit; enjoy the moments for what they are--the feel of a hand in your own; the taste of a kiss; the sound of your name leaving a caring mouth; the warmth of a smile. Things that are meant to be in your life will be. People who are meant to be in your life will be. Everything else goes with time.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
"The answers are always right in front of you. Just open your eyes."
So, I'm trying to wrap my head around some "new" concepts. Writing (my form of verbalization) is the best way to put my thoughts in order...or, at least, hurry them on their little way to being in order.
I found a list of 70 Reminders to help put life in perspective, and--as always--I felt compelled to actually do something. This is useful because, well, I constantly need reminders. Okay, more like slaps in the face, but these work as well. A few things stuck out:
68. the only thing you can change about people is your relationship with them.
64. using age-old methods to solve new-age problems is setting yourself up for failure.
45. the answers are always right in front of us. Just open your eyes.
1. Believe that even the smallest compliment can save someone's life.
Out of 70 statements, these four stuck out. Not because the rest were crap, but because these four fit where I'm at in my life, the most. if I'm on my journey to be like the crystal, then I need to open myself up. Recognizing the potential in every connection, in every interaction is a powerful place to start because, well, I am at least 50 percent of that interaction. While I may not be able to change the way the other person feels, I can change the way that I behave towards them...hmm, illumination is happening already--this is both great and scary.
Um, sorry, where was I? Oh, yeah. By learning to appreciate others I better open myself up to be like that crystal.
The crystal needs, light in order to show its transparency, right? I mean, how do we understand a crystal to be a crystal other than by its qualities, and if one of its major qualities is translucence, then without this transparency the crystal would just be another rock. But that's not just it; in order to be transparent, the crystal is dependent on its interaction with the light. Without the light passing through it--interacting with it--there would be no way to discover the crystal's transparency. Now, I understand this is a grossly oversimplified rundown of both the philosophy of interactions, and the physics of light, but it makes sense.
The key to being transparent (open) is in recognizing that my interactions with other people are not only key to their own happiness, but key to my own. By recognizing the value in each person, I can better recognize the value in myself, not on a scale of better-thans, but on a plane of equality.
In the end, the answers have really been right in front of me. I've just had my eyes closed. It's time to open them to what's before me. One blink at a time, until I can keep them open.
I found a list of 70 Reminders to help put life in perspective, and--as always--I felt compelled to actually do something. This is useful because, well, I constantly need reminders. Okay, more like slaps in the face, but these work as well. A few things stuck out:
68. the only thing you can change about people is your relationship with them.
64. using age-old methods to solve new-age problems is setting yourself up for failure.
45. the answers are always right in front of us. Just open your eyes.
1. Believe that even the smallest compliment can save someone's life.
Out of 70 statements, these four stuck out. Not because the rest were crap, but because these four fit where I'm at in my life, the most. if I'm on my journey to be like the crystal, then I need to open myself up. Recognizing the potential in every connection, in every interaction is a powerful place to start because, well, I am at least 50 percent of that interaction. While I may not be able to change the way the other person feels, I can change the way that I behave towards them...hmm, illumination is happening already--this is both great and scary.
Um, sorry, where was I? Oh, yeah. By learning to appreciate others I better open myself up to be like that crystal.
The crystal needs, light in order to show its transparency, right? I mean, how do we understand a crystal to be a crystal other than by its qualities, and if one of its major qualities is translucence, then without this transparency the crystal would just be another rock. But that's not just it; in order to be transparent, the crystal is dependent on its interaction with the light. Without the light passing through it--interacting with it--there would be no way to discover the crystal's transparency. Now, I understand this is a grossly oversimplified rundown of both the philosophy of interactions, and the physics of light, but it makes sense.
The key to being transparent (open) is in recognizing that my interactions with other people are not only key to their own happiness, but key to my own. By recognizing the value in each person, I can better recognize the value in myself, not on a scale of better-thans, but on a plane of equality.
In the end, the answers have really been right in front of me. I've just had my eyes closed. It's time to open them to what's before me. One blink at a time, until I can keep them open.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Late night thoughts on words from a kind soul.
Sometimes, waiting is the hardest thing to do. In life, we try so hard to force our hand. Between dreams, actions and responses, and hopes and fears the only possible thing to do is to realize that there is nothing to do. Waiting can be more effective than any motion made.
So, instead of trying to force everything, learn to wait. Not everything requires you to wait, but the things that are worthwhile will; you'll know what they are, when they come. ^_^.
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Tuesday, April 19, 2011
This is what thesis writing does to me at midnight (okay, anytime, really)...
I think we have it backwards. Plants don't need us; we need them.
I was writing my on my thesis and I began to think of what it means to make an existence. (I don't care, it's fun for me :-P.) I thought about how people rely on other people to "prove" or validate who they are. Society, and granted most education, has become so anthropocentric that we seem to have returned to the pre-Copernican days. Everything from animals to plants have been scripted to "depend" on humans for their existence. We see this in the films we watch (Battle: LA, anyone?) where things cry out for recognition from Man--either through war, "extinction," or some other catastrophe that only man can deactivate or cancel out--or those things that do not beg Man's mercy are doomed to destruction (that's right. Anything that resists our gaze is doomed to "non-existence.").
But, then it hit me: Man is not the center of the world!
This thought first came to mind when I was thinking about plants. Yes. Plants. Plants don't need us. They have existed for millennia without our help. How, one may ask? They live in a symbiotic harmony with the rest of their environment. Think Avatar, here (no, not the bald one; the blue ones). Things are connected to one another so that there really is no "individual" flower. Each is recognized in that it does not exist outside of the others--of course, until some yo-yo comes along and plucks one--and it only recognizes itself in relation to one another. One is constantly becoming the other as they (co)exist. Neither is ever singularly whole, but instead they are simultaneously completing one another.
Now, granted, I realize that it may sound like I am riding the fairy dust, or something, but I'm not. This all makes sense. There's an interconnectivity out there that we humans seem to want to fight against (we call this RACISM). And, yes, I acknowledge that there are those beings who eat and kill one another. But even this is part of the symbiotic inter-connected relationship in which they exist. It is predominantly humans who pervert this relationship with mindless, unnecessary killings.
So, instead of trying to make someone see you or acknowledge you, try to just exist with them. The world shouldn't be about recognition. It should be about a harmonic (co)existence because only then, will things start to make sense.
Now, back to that thesis.
I was writing my on my thesis and I began to think of what it means to make an existence. (I don't care, it's fun for me :-P.) I thought about how people rely on other people to "prove" or validate who they are. Society, and granted most education, has become so anthropocentric that we seem to have returned to the pre-Copernican days. Everything from animals to plants have been scripted to "depend" on humans for their existence. We see this in the films we watch (Battle: LA, anyone?) where things cry out for recognition from Man--either through war, "extinction," or some other catastrophe that only man can deactivate or cancel out--or those things that do not beg Man's mercy are doomed to destruction (that's right. Anything that resists our gaze is doomed to "non-existence.").
But, then it hit me: Man is not the center of the world!
This thought first came to mind when I was thinking about plants. Yes. Plants. Plants don't need us. They have existed for millennia without our help. How, one may ask? They live in a symbiotic harmony with the rest of their environment. Think Avatar, here (no, not the bald one; the blue ones). Things are connected to one another so that there really is no "individual" flower. Each is recognized in that it does not exist outside of the others--of course, until some yo-yo comes along and plucks one--and it only recognizes itself in relation to one another. One is constantly becoming the other as they (co)exist. Neither is ever singularly whole, but instead they are simultaneously completing one another.
Now, granted, I realize that it may sound like I am riding the fairy dust, or something, but I'm not. This all makes sense. There's an interconnectivity out there that we humans seem to want to fight against (we call this RACISM). And, yes, I acknowledge that there are those beings who eat and kill one another. But even this is part of the symbiotic inter-connected relationship in which they exist. It is predominantly humans who pervert this relationship with mindless, unnecessary killings.
So, instead of trying to make someone see you or acknowledge you, try to just exist with them. The world shouldn't be about recognition. It should be about a harmonic (co)existence because only then, will things start to make sense.
Now, back to that thesis.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Life lessons from a fortune cookie: Part 1(?)
"A new wardrobe brings great joy and change to your life."
--Fortune Cookie, 4.16.11
--Fortune Cookie, 4.16.11
So I opened a fortune cookie today. I've found that sometimes the messages hidden within those little golden cookies are a bit hit or miss. They range from hysterical to right on the money. Today's cookie fortune was right on the money.
What is it about a new wardrobe that can bring more joy or change? Is it the thrill of having new fabric press against your flesh? Is it the thrill of being able to reconstruct your image? or is it the potential that comes from getting rid of all of the old clothes that tie you to an image of yourself that no longer fits? I think it's a bit of all of these. As I see it, wearing the same old clothes becomes mundane and monotonous after a while. After so many years of seeing the same shirt against the same pants, it becomes a bit intimidating. You lose the thrill, you lose the passion of living. Since what you wear--what you have around you--is a direct reflection on who you are, if you are constantly wearing the same things, it can become a bit saddening because there is never any change. Granted, some people hate change. I am not talking to, or about, these people. Most of us, however, want change--in one form or another. Having the same wardrobe, then, is a reflection of the static states of our lives.
It is for this reason that I feel that a new wardrobe can be so powerful. Getting rid of the old and instituting a new "image," if you will, is a great way to reflect that things are no static. Don't get me wrong, I know that certain articles of clothing carry sentimental value. This is not to say that everything and anything should be discarded. Sometimes something as simple as getting rid of one or two pieces of "old" clothing and replacing them with a few new pieces can constitute a "new wardrobe." What this does is it brings a sense of excitement back to the closet--back to your life. Suddenly you can't wait to try out that new shirt, or those new pants. You can't wait to take them out and see how they make you feel. Sometimes, even, looking at them hang in the closet is enough to make you excited. It is this excitement that a new wardrobe can bring. This is something that most (if not all) crave. This is something that I, as of late, have been missing.
On a decidedly less metaphorical level, I've been stressed this year. More so than I think I should be, honestly. Now, I know life will bring with it its stresses, its pressures, its burdens; but, there's no need to unnecessarily put myself in the line of fire. As the movie title goes, "I can do bad all by myself," so I don't need anything, or anyone, helping me along. Therefore, I have decided to get "a new wardrobe," so to speak. It's time to take out the ill-fitting clothes and find things that reflect who I am--or push me towards who I want to be.
What is it about a new wardrobe that can bring more joy or change? Is it the thrill of having new fabric press against your flesh? Is it the thrill of being able to reconstruct your image? or is it the potential that comes from getting rid of all of the old clothes that tie you to an image of yourself that no longer fits? I think it's a bit of all of these. As I see it, wearing the same old clothes becomes mundane and monotonous after a while. After so many years of seeing the same shirt against the same pants, it becomes a bit intimidating. You lose the thrill, you lose the passion of living. Since what you wear--what you have around you--is a direct reflection on who you are, if you are constantly wearing the same things, it can become a bit saddening because there is never any change. Granted, some people hate change. I am not talking to, or about, these people. Most of us, however, want change--in one form or another. Having the same wardrobe, then, is a reflection of the static states of our lives.
It is for this reason that I feel that a new wardrobe can be so powerful. Getting rid of the old and instituting a new "image," if you will, is a great way to reflect that things are no static. Don't get me wrong, I know that certain articles of clothing carry sentimental value. This is not to say that everything and anything should be discarded. Sometimes something as simple as getting rid of one or two pieces of "old" clothing and replacing them with a few new pieces can constitute a "new wardrobe." What this does is it brings a sense of excitement back to the closet--back to your life. Suddenly you can't wait to try out that new shirt, or those new pants. You can't wait to take them out and see how they make you feel. Sometimes, even, looking at them hang in the closet is enough to make you excited. It is this excitement that a new wardrobe can bring. This is something that most (if not all) crave. This is something that I, as of late, have been missing.
On a decidedly less metaphorical level, I've been stressed this year. More so than I think I should be, honestly. Now, I know life will bring with it its stresses, its pressures, its burdens; but, there's no need to unnecessarily put myself in the line of fire. As the movie title goes, "I can do bad all by myself," so I don't need anything, or anyone, helping me along. Therefore, I have decided to get "a new wardrobe," so to speak. It's time to take out the ill-fitting clothes and find things that reflect who I am--or push me towards who I want to be.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Does it show?
I will be 28 this year. I just realized this. It's funny, I'm almost 30 years old, and I don't know what this means. Part of me feels as if I should have "accomplished" something by now. Part of me feels as if I am "accomplishing" something. I mean, 30 is a milestone, right? Why? Does this mean that I am no longer young?
Honestly, I am not sure what this all means. This lack of certainty saddens me, too. I think I should have it figured out by now. Alas, but I don't. There is a quote that seems to have lodged itself in my head: "Life isn't about finding yourself. It's about creating yourself." I suppose this is what I'm [subconsciously] doing. I've done the "let's search for me" routine and it's gotten me nowhere, really. Lately, I seem to be playing-it-by-ear. It's a bit scarier, but at least it's a forward motion.
So, what does all of this mean for an almost-thirty-year-old? Well, it creates the aforementioned question. It leaves holes and questions. It makes things scary and, yet, possible. The possibilities. That, I suppose is the most rewarding thing I have received from this path. For me, 30 doesn't have to be an over-the-hill; it can be just another patch of grass. Tomorrow is potential. And 30 holds all of the potential I want it to hold!
Honestly, I am not sure what this all means. This lack of certainty saddens me, too. I think I should have it figured out by now. Alas, but I don't. There is a quote that seems to have lodged itself in my head: "Life isn't about finding yourself. It's about creating yourself." I suppose this is what I'm [subconsciously] doing. I've done the "let's search for me" routine and it's gotten me nowhere, really. Lately, I seem to be playing-it-by-ear. It's a bit scarier, but at least it's a forward motion.
So, what does all of this mean for an almost-thirty-year-old? Well, it creates the aforementioned question. It leaves holes and questions. It makes things scary and, yet, possible. The possibilities. That, I suppose is the most rewarding thing I have received from this path. For me, 30 doesn't have to be an over-the-hill; it can be just another patch of grass. Tomorrow is potential. And 30 holds all of the potential I want it to hold!
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