It's kind of like sadness is the new black.
Everybody's wearing it.
It's cool to be moody.
Romantic to be heartbroken.
Legit to be thoughtful and morose.
Me?
I'm not down with it.
The most humbling moment is had when experiencing true and total happiness.
And how often is it us that get's in the way of our own happiness?
God has plans to prosper us.
And we junk up the plans.
It all sounds pretty sketch to me.
But I'm starting to get a hang of it.
Now--the real trick is maintaining.
I got this.
I bleed confidence.
that is all.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
lost--not the show
I started thinking about the word lost.
And all the many dozen contexts in which we use that word.
'pray for the lost.'
'I'm at a loss.'
'I lost a loved one.'
'I'm lost in the middle of nowhere.'
When it comes right down to it, I guess there are really several ways to react to getting lost.
One is to panic. Yeah, I'm definitly more a panicker.
Another is to abandon yourself to lostness.
To allow the fact that you've misplaced yourself change the way you experience the world.
Then there are those that just pick up their life and get found.
So how do we connect all these different meanings for one term to life?
We like the analogy of the nonChristian being lost in the middle of nowhere.
Makes our physical minds more comfortable with the image, I suppose.
You know, wandering through life. Searching and seeking.
It's easier for me to grasp in metaphor mode.
I guess I've been watching too much House, lately.
You ever had that moment at the end of a meal, where you haven't taken the time to drink?
I do it everytime. And so does my 3-year old niece.
We wait until our plate is finished, then pick up our cup and chug the entire thing.
You know, one of those out of breath, head rush kind of chugs.
And the thing of it it, here you sat with this glass of refreshing, cool water before you the entire time, and you didn't even know you were thirsty.
You didn't even know.
Maybe that's what being lost is like.
I can't be for certain.
I've never really experienced it.
But maybe it's like God is the cool drink of water,
and when you finally get to him, you can't get enough.
And the funny thing is, you didn't even know how thirsty you were.
And maybe--
maybe that's not the funny thing at all.
Maybe that's the tragic thing.
that is all.
And all the many dozen contexts in which we use that word.
'pray for the lost.'
'I'm at a loss.'
'I lost a loved one.'
'I'm lost in the middle of nowhere.'
When it comes right down to it, I guess there are really several ways to react to getting lost.
One is to panic. Yeah, I'm definitly more a panicker.
Another is to abandon yourself to lostness.
To allow the fact that you've misplaced yourself change the way you experience the world.
Then there are those that just pick up their life and get found.
So how do we connect all these different meanings for one term to life?
We like the analogy of the nonChristian being lost in the middle of nowhere.
Makes our physical minds more comfortable with the image, I suppose.
You know, wandering through life. Searching and seeking.
It's easier for me to grasp in metaphor mode.
I guess I've been watching too much House, lately.
You ever had that moment at the end of a meal, where you haven't taken the time to drink?
I do it everytime. And so does my 3-year old niece.
We wait until our plate is finished, then pick up our cup and chug the entire thing.
You know, one of those out of breath, head rush kind of chugs.
And the thing of it it, here you sat with this glass of refreshing, cool water before you the entire time, and you didn't even know you were thirsty.
You didn't even know.
Maybe that's what being lost is like.
I can't be for certain.
I've never really experienced it.
But maybe it's like God is the cool drink of water,
and when you finally get to him, you can't get enough.
And the funny thing is, you didn't even know how thirsty you were.
And maybe--
maybe that's not the funny thing at all.
Maybe that's the tragic thing.
that is all.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
endless
Do you ever think about who you are?
No--I mean who you really are.
Like when the doors are closed, the blinds are drawn, you've not showered in 2 days, and you're wearing pajamas you've owned since 5th grade.
and your hair is weird, and you pad around all day doing things like eating the cereal dry and straight from the box.
Who are you then?
And your covers are wrinkled, and you don't even care,
and the remote is somewhere in the mix up.
On those nights when you lay there forever, staring and thinking--
your mind running like a sprinter who tripped.
Funny how different everything seems then.
Like in those hours of quiet and dark, you could almost believe in peace on Earth.
and the possibilites are endless.
and it's like you have every answer to every question ever laid out before you.
And in those last few minutes before sleep finally wins your mind over,
right before that switch is flipped--
there's that sigh.
And that's you.
In that sigh is released all the stress, all the pent up energy, and every good or bad decision you made that day.
And the next time you open your eyes, it's a fresh start, clean slate.
That sigh is an ending and a beginning all at the same time.
And in its own way,
it's kind of beautiful, don't you think?
That complete abandon, that complete freedom--that total...you.
that is all.
No--I mean who you really are.
Like when the doors are closed, the blinds are drawn, you've not showered in 2 days, and you're wearing pajamas you've owned since 5th grade.
and your hair is weird, and you pad around all day doing things like eating the cereal dry and straight from the box.
Who are you then?
And your covers are wrinkled, and you don't even care,
and the remote is somewhere in the mix up.
On those nights when you lay there forever, staring and thinking--
your mind running like a sprinter who tripped.
Funny how different everything seems then.
Like in those hours of quiet and dark, you could almost believe in peace on Earth.
and the possibilites are endless.
and it's like you have every answer to every question ever laid out before you.
And in those last few minutes before sleep finally wins your mind over,
right before that switch is flipped--
there's that sigh.
And that's you.
In that sigh is released all the stress, all the pent up energy, and every good or bad decision you made that day.
And the next time you open your eyes, it's a fresh start, clean slate.
That sigh is an ending and a beginning all at the same time.
And in its own way,
it's kind of beautiful, don't you think?
That complete abandon, that complete freedom--that total...you.
that is all.
musuem of life
Accomplishment is a funny thing.
You have this feeling like a big, empty energy that you need to fill.
And then after the most menial of tasks--it's gone.
And you feel, God forbid, accomplished.
Don't you wish you could bottle that empty energy and keep it on your shelf?
Corked and waiting.
right next to 'sunny day' and 'first kiss'.
Certain things should just stay the way they are.
You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big, glass cases and leave them alone.
I know it's impossible, but not too bad anyway.
that is all.
You have this feeling like a big, empty energy that you need to fill.
And then after the most menial of tasks--it's gone.
And you feel, God forbid, accomplished.
Don't you wish you could bottle that empty energy and keep it on your shelf?
Corked and waiting.
right next to 'sunny day' and 'first kiss'.
Certain things should just stay the way they are.
You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big, glass cases and leave them alone.
I know it's impossible, but not too bad anyway.
that is all.
totally random
There's something about the sensation of a pen in your hand and a fresh notebook open before you.
Something that far transcends the feel of a computer's keyboard or the hum of technology.
You know, scrap the cell for a payphone, the laptop for a sketch pad, and the television for a worn copy of an Emerson classic. (or a Dickens, I'm not really picky.)
Ehh--music though, yeah, you're not going to see me giving up my ipod anytime soon.
And there's something beautiful about chicken scratch.
Like your ideas are firing off so fast--they just appear on the page,
I guess there's just something thrilling about anything or anyone ready for your thoughts.
Even if it is an inanimate sketch pad, even if.
And there's something about a quote.
Something about words, made up of nothing but random letters, but when put together just the right way, in just the right time, can say things you never even knew needed saying.
that is all.
Something that far transcends the feel of a computer's keyboard or the hum of technology.
You know, scrap the cell for a payphone, the laptop for a sketch pad, and the television for a worn copy of an Emerson classic. (or a Dickens, I'm not really picky.)
Ehh--music though, yeah, you're not going to see me giving up my ipod anytime soon.
And there's something beautiful about chicken scratch.
Like your ideas are firing off so fast--they just appear on the page,
I guess there's just something thrilling about anything or anyone ready for your thoughts.
Even if it is an inanimate sketch pad, even if.
And there's something about a quote.
Something about words, made up of nothing but random letters, but when put together just the right way, in just the right time, can say things you never even knew needed saying.
that is all.
Monday, January 4, 2010
a sign
I guess when it comes right down to it--
we're all just waiting.
Waiting for happiness, waiting to live, waiting to die;
waiting for a sign to pop up and show us how to do any of that.
Me--I'm just waiting to start waiting.
What is it exactly about a 'new year' that makes everyone insist on a change?
You realize of course that there is no magic in the air around December 31st, right?
The calendar we live by--which appropriates the New Year, is wholly man made.
Created by minds just like ours thousands of years ago.
The New Year could just as easily have begun on June 23rd or February 21st or April 17th.
So what is it that happens on December 31st to suddenly spark hope and change and motivation in the hearts and minds of the masses?
Before that clock strikes 12, we resolve to lose weight, run more, eat better, be nicer, go green, study harder, read our Bibles, quit smoking...the list goes on and on.
But if we are honest with ourselves, these resolutions are just silly and all for naught.
If you had truly planned to change these things could you not have done so a month ago, a week ago?
Tell me why exactly the New Year must be about change?
Does anyone ever resolve to just not gain weight, eat no more, not be meaner, not study less?
we're all just waiting.
Waiting for happiness, waiting to live, waiting to die;
waiting for a sign to pop up and show us how to do any of that.
Me--I'm just waiting to start waiting.
What is it exactly about a 'new year' that makes everyone insist on a change?
You realize of course that there is no magic in the air around December 31st, right?
The calendar we live by--which appropriates the New Year, is wholly man made.
Created by minds just like ours thousands of years ago.
The New Year could just as easily have begun on June 23rd or February 21st or April 17th.
So what is it that happens on December 31st to suddenly spark hope and change and motivation in the hearts and minds of the masses?
Before that clock strikes 12, we resolve to lose weight, run more, eat better, be nicer, go green, study harder, read our Bibles, quit smoking...the list goes on and on.
But if we are honest with ourselves, these resolutions are just silly and all for naught.
If you had truly planned to change these things could you not have done so a month ago, a week ago?
Tell me why exactly the New Year must be about change?
Does anyone ever resolve to just not gain weight, eat no more, not be meaner, not study less?
Does anybody ever resolve to just exist?
that is all.
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