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.

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.

"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.

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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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.

Life lessons from a fortune cookie: Part 1(?)

"A new wardrobe brings great joy and change to your life."
--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.

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!

A house is not a home....

What makes a relationship worth it?

When I say relationship, I am referring to an intimate bond between two individuals. Things like marriage, partnerships, etc. What makes these bonds worth the effort that it takes to maintain them?

I've found that, in large, a relationship is like a house. For the first few years, there is a period when everything seems ethereal. No world seems to exist outside of the defining walls, and nothing within them seems wrong. The walls are a comfort, not a prison. All of the mold seems perfectly placed, the paint--while not ideal--is of no consequence, the stairs do not squeak. Each trip outside brings a tiny pain, but each return brings a tingle. This new place is yours. It is home. Your home.

And then comes the effects of time. The comfort turns prison. The stairs begin to creak, the paint--whose color burns your eyes--begins to chip, the mold begins to sag. Each moment indoors seems an eternity; each trip outside seems a much needed reprieve. More time is spent by the windows as you desire less and less to travel to the center of the house.

And this, I fear, is the course of most relationships. So, what makes it worth it?

A relationship should be a malleable rock. Oxymoronic? Perhaps. But still, I think it fits. A relationship should be something that is firm enough to lean on, yet flexible enough to adjust to the currents of time (like the joints of a wall expand and contract according to the heat or cold). It should be solid enough to protect against the rains of doubt; yet, it should be permeable enough to let things in and out (like the screens on the windows). It should sturdy enough to stand when the world shakes, yet it should be mobile enough to relocate when the grass begins to grow greener somewhere else. Most of all, it should have a strong foundation of trust and honesty. Without this foundation, none of the other characteristics are possible. But, most of these elements are things that take time to construct. Like the walls of a house, these need to be fabricated and tested. They need to be tempered and reinforced.

So, what makes a relationship worth it? Necessity? Desire? What?

Honestly, I am not sure. What makes a house worth the wait of construction?

Gettin' tech-y with it

Well, slowly but surely, I am advancing with this tech shift. Hm, I suppose this is what it felt like when they moved from flint t metal.

Nonetheless, I have arrived to the point where I can now access my blog from my phone. This abiity should make it a bit more convenient to update my happenings, as well as add entries...ideally, anyway. Yay! I'm finally getting all tech-y with it :-).

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Stop. Observe. Re-focus.

After a long hiatus, I think it's time to get back in touch with my (admittedly fledgling) photographer's eye. It's been a thought for some time now, but I've noticed that the way that I look at the world has changed. The most recent realization of this was on a mini-photo expedition.

I once saw in frames. Now I don't. It's sad. Where before, I would look at the world for the potential it held (holds? I feel this should this be present tense), I now find myself taking things for what is before me. While these may not seem very different, they do possess different methods of being present in your space. The first requires you to look beyond the moment that is presented to you and see the moment that you create. The latter asks you to take things with a more guarded approach. Things are as they appear. Because I was once able to see in the former, and have now shifted towards the latter, I suppose it has to do with training, which presents both positives and negatives.

While this means that I can retrain myself to "see in frames" again, it is also means that it is possible for this training to deteriorate, and/or slip away from me once again. It's a tough battle to fight, as it takes a reassessment of one's perception of reality, so the thought that it can be gone--again--just like that is a bit disconcerting. But then again, it didn't seem to concern me much this past go-around.

So, from this moment, I've decided to pick up the camera again, and retrain my eyes to see in frames once more. I realize it'll take a bit of time--and I may never be as great as I'd like--but it's worth it.

For me.

Yeah, you do have a problem. It's called discipline.

I don't remember there being as many kids on medicine when I was growing up. Boy have times changed. We have pills for everything. You gotta problem, they have a pill. There are pills to treat attention deficits, there are pills to treat growth deficiencies, there are pills to treat the effects of the pills that treat depression.

I propose a new pill: a pill that enhances one's desire to take responsibility for their own actions.

What this pill will do is it will block the neurons that cause a person to shirk their duties, making them more willing to perform the things they know they must do. It will also inhibit the growth of ideas that encourage blaming others. In addition to this, it will heal scars caused by bitterness and victimhood.

I suppose it must be noted that there are, as with all pills, side effects. It may cause: intense pain in the heart (as it brings about the realization that many of the problems in one's life stem from within, and not others); sweating (from the pressure to constantly do what is morally sound, even when things would be easier deflecting); and random bouts of crying (because the world is much more beautiful when you realize you have power to change it from within yourself). There may be more side effects, but the pill is still in its formative stages.

Hm. I don't think this will ever make it, though. Until then, I'll propose a simple campaign; a campaign aimed at each person taking responsibility for the actions that they themselves choose to commit. A campaign aimed at helping everyone understand that it's not the world, it's you.

And, I'll start with me.

Hmm....

I need an audience. More specifically, I need to figure out in which direction I am sending my voice. It's deep, so it doesn't carry well; therefore, I need not waste valuable energy trying to project to the universe. Instead, I need a corner. Corner's like bass anyways. They can be my friends. So, What I'll do is find a few corners who are willing to hold my vibrations long enough for them to make sense. Then, after all of the noise dissipates, they can tell me what they found underneath it all. The only problem is figuring out to which corners I want to speak--ever so softly--I suppose.

And now, I am 360. Or would it be -180? Eh, who really cares. I still need to figure out where this is all heading.

I'll give you what I want.

I need to create a new space for myself. I'm not sure I like this one anymore.

I've often prided myself on believing that I could easily adapt to change. I've thought of myself as someone who is able to "go with the flow", as they say, and not be bothered by the inconsistencies in life.

I s'pose I lied. Funny thing, that denial is. It's a strong drug. And the worst thing about it: it's like natural gas. It's insipid and vastly unnoticeable. That is, until you add a scent to it. This makes it all the more lethal.

There is not much that a person can do until they recognize just how deep in denial they are. I just so happen to find myself chest level. Heh. And there I go my whole life thinking that I'm not that great of a swimmer. I've been wading for quite some time. The simple truth of the matter is, my hubris hurt me. See, I've recently come to the conclusion that I'm human. That is, I know nothing. I am more vulnerable, less self-sustainable, and more stagnant than I previously gave myself credit for being. This is a pretty grand--and obviously, bleak--realization for one to make.

Okay, so, for many people, me typing this probably obviates the argument that I am simply "human". Unfortunately, this is a grand oversight on many people's part. In making this realization, I have separated myself from about 95% of the world. Most people believe themselves to be what Descartes would call "Man". They are the makers of their own destiny (to some extent) and they are capable of knowing everything that they need to know. Man is about control. Man is above the world. However, I, as a human, find myself situated within it. Humanity, as opposed to Man(ness?) is an understanding of a less controlling existence. I've come to realize that all that I know pales in comparison to all that there is to know. Nothing is for certain and my knowledge is only as far as my experiences. These experiences and reality don't always match up 100%. This realization was my first step in recognizing my own denial.

Where I thought I was, I wasn't. Instead, I was seeing myself as I hoped I could be. And this, is why I say that my experiences and reality don't always sync up perfectly. Denial caused me to project the image (in my head) of who I thought I would like to be. Really, to me, I was a pretty decent guy. When this happens, it's quite difficult to see why so many bad things happen to you. (This, if goes unchecked, can lead to the "victim mentality". But that is a topic for another post.)
Luckily, I have come to realize that life, sometimes gives what you give. Hmm, this seems a bit pessimistic, but it's really optimism. It's only the pessimist who find this to be pessimistic. If you are given lemons, as they say, and you make lemonade, as they say, then you will be given lemonade (what? I like commas). Get it? Once you make what you want to make, life will give it to you. Unfortunately, for most of us, life doesn't give handouts. But it will hand out what we make from it. This is where denial begins to wear things down.

When you can't see that you are not who or where you want to be, then you can only give life a certain set of ingredients. Yet, once you recognize areas that need to be changed, and actively begin to change them, then you can receive a better product, because (as Papa John says) "better ingredients" makes "better pizza." Denial likes to seep in and keep us from realizing this fact. In doing so, it prevents us from truly accepting who and what we are so that we will remain who we think we are, and never know the difference. Of course, this is not a problem, unless you grow curious about why your life is the way it is. It's not always other people, sometimes--okay, most times--it's really you.