Loving (only) the idea of you.

So this is what happens when you take a three and a half hour nap...inspiration and thought. I had forgotten how comforting the quietness of night can be. For many years I found myself swaddled in darkness, yet afraid of the Universe. But one night we went walking and three things happened. The first, was a shooting star passed overhead-- the first I had seen as an aware young adult. So of course I took this as a sign of fate that we were somehow destined to be on this walk together. I in turn wished for your love. (Now, six years later I am remembering the phrase, 'Be careful what you wish for.') While you did in fact later love me, I believe that that very wish which forced you to love me, blinded my ability to see and feel what real love was. That passing star and subsequent wish lead me to wishing on every future star, never fully-able to be content with what I had. I previously mentioned that three things happened on this fateful night. The first, the darkened shooting star. The second, the birth of 'star-planet'. The reddish glow of what I believed to be a star of my very own was your first opportunity to point out harshly that I was wrong, and it was in fact a planet. What seemed to be specially placed in the sky for me was in fact the birth of a symbol of your constant criticism. But I, the ever-naive and optimistic teenager, took this disagreement as another sign of how you were meant to love me. But the wish I cast on that shooting star and the birth of star-planet did not create the picture-perfect romance I predicted. They were instead the backdrop to a mini-universe of chaos, pain, and suffering...a fact I would not realize for nearly four more years. The third thing that happened during this midnight walk was the moment when I convinced myself you were someone I should love. I had asked the universe for your love, but I had not asked to be able to love you. Instead, I fell in love with the idea of loving you. We were two jaded, bruised, and scarred individuals who had no business being in love; but I was convinced you could love me and I could love you...and in the end, we would save each other. For two painful years, I found myself cursing the stars and wishing for a lost happiness, without realizing I was never meant to love you; I was never meant to find happiness with you. As I gazed up at tonight's sky, I reflected on the person I was six years ago and compared her to the person I am today. I no longer wish on stars. I no longer vie for love. I am content walking among the stars alone or in the company of my wonderful husband and dog. The love I have for my husband was not concocted on a wish, it was found at first-sight...the best kind of fate; and over time it grew deeply within each of us individually and as a pair. While it may seem ideal to wish for love on a shooting star, you are never certain of what you may end up with. I find it best to just leave it to fate.

Just an old soul.

Every once in a while I find myself thinking about the possibility of having a past life. More often than that I picture myself being born in a different decade...which may be because I haven't quite found my place in my generation. But either way, I think about it more often than not. And usually the whole "past life" question comes to mind when I'm reading Vonnegut or Hemingway, something harsh and modern...usually tearing mankind a new one. But today it struck me in the middle of a Philosophy class...which may sound like just another place for ripping mankind a new one. But today was different. I just faded out of our conversation about Moral Luck and into a new world of possibility. Maybe the whole reason I feel estranged from my generation is not because I should have been born in a different time, but maybe it's because I was in fact born in another time.

There are so many things that I don't agree with in this world: war, vengeance, and the general disapproval of carbohydrate-loaded foods. I know that if I had been born in some other time I would have found something to be upset about, something to disagree with. That's human nature in a nutshell. We all want to be right even if it means disagreeing with someone who holds our same opinion with a twist.

But how did I get here? Obviously I understand how the whole process works, but how was my existence chosen for this place, at this point in time? I was born into a wealthy and free society. Bur what about everyone else in the world who was not as fortunate? Was it written in the stars millions of years ago that my ancestry would work down to my birth? Do I have that "twin" soul people believe in, who walks on the Earth but never finds a match? Or was I really somebody else before this time, sent to do something more for this world?

Sometimes it is so overwhelming to think that I have thoughts in my head that are entirely different from the person sitting next to me. And to add to that, I will never fully understand why or how they think differently. I often wonder if there is another person out there with my exact same history, my exact same present, and my exact same manner of thinking. I wonder if there is someone out there (dead or alive) who shares my exact feelings.

And to take this crazy train of thought even further, I wonder if I will one day become somebody else too. I wish I could make a time-capsule that my future self will one day find and understand that they too are an old soul. Maybe I'll find a time-capsule with my name on it. And if I do, I guarantee a heart-attack will follow.

Okay, enough craziness for one day.
Peace, love, and cheers to being an old soul in a 21 year old's body...

Sunday night inspiration?

Two sangria malts down. I repeat: two sangria malts down. And I'm wondering where the inspiration is. Ten months ago, I found myself typing away furiously after a night out with my Parisian friends. Actually, it didn't even have to really be a "night out" per se, but maybe just an apératif-afternoon. Tucked inside my fourth floor chambre I would type away, sometimes for hours, writing blog entries, intricate emails, longing letters, and everything in between. I chatted with friends, skyped with loved ones, and found myself utterly inspired by the world around me. And tonight I find myself oddly uninspired...not in a bad, depressing way though, just in a very confusing, oddly uninspired mood. What strikes me as so odd is my lack of inspiration. I live in an incredible world where everyday life usually inspires me. There's usually at least one part of my day that muddles my mind, intrigues me into deep thought, or challenges what I've always believed in. But today, I find myself very, yes I will say it again, oddly at ease. It's a content feeling I'm not acquainted with. For some people, this may be an exceptionally comforting feeling to have, but for me...I just feel like a waste of space. A waste of perfectly capable, perfectly thoughtful, space. My life is interesting enough, isn't it?

Maybe it wasn't my own life that intrigued me so much while I stayed in Paris, but rather, the lives of the Parisians that intrigued me so. But Miami, Florida is such a unique place to live. I should feel inspired by something everyday, and yet I just feel--content. Ugh, the sound of that word is giving me a headache. No one should be content. It's both mundane and tragic at the same time. (Yet the word itself does not mean either!) My need for adventure and experience has both blessed and cursed the very ground I walk on.

Two questions come to mind: (1) Is the world I live in too comfortable? Or, (2) is it just so blatantly structured there is little time for either adventure or experience?

I'm not unhappy. I'm really not. At least, I don't think I am the majority of the time. And I think that's how it should be. There is no room for total happiness, just like there is no need for complete unhappiness. But somehow I don't think my lack of inspiration lands me anywhere productive on either end of that spectrum. So now I'm left with wondering where to go from here. With only Monday's sobering agenda nearing me each passing moment.

The Shack

I'm not quite sure where to begin. This was more than just a book, it was an insightful legend to what it means to be a human being. I probably should have taken the religious aspects a little more seriously, but the advice that was given spoke to me in a much different way. And to be honest, the overtly religious aspects more often than not offended me a little bit. Mack, the protagonist of the novel, raised a question during one of the meals he shared with Papa (an African American female, who we know as 'God'). He inquired about which of the three, the Father, Son or the Spirit, were most powerful. He wanted to know if our version of their hierarchy was the reality of their relationship. And what Papa revealed to Mack was nothing he expected. She explained that they are a circle of relationship, not a chain of command.

Jesus chimed in and noted that humans created the hierarchical systems of everyday life. "Once you have a hierarchy, you need rules to protect and administer it, and then you need law and the enforcement of the rules, and you end up with some kind of chain of command or a system of order that destroys relationship rather than promotes it. You rarely see or experience relationship apart from power. Hierarchy imposes laws and rules and you end up missing the wonder of relationship..."

So then I started thinking about my relationships, and how I approach them all. In some, it is very evident which role I play in the pair. Whether I'm the strong one, the weak one, the smart one, the chaser, the chased, etc. And others, I find that there is that sense of equality that Papa, Sarayu and Jesus were attempting to teach Mack about throughout his journey. In some of my relationships, I do in fact feel like I am trapped by rules, following whatever the other person orders me to do. And in other relationships, I wonder why I feel like I am the responsible one, trying to hold the two of us together-- when in reality, if we just let each other live and understand we have differences, there would be no need to enforce rules on each other. There wouldn't be a need to fight for understanding or argue against each other's methods of thinking.

Sarayu, the personified spirit of God, further explains, "...broken humans center their lives around things that seem good to them but will neither fill them nor free them. They are addicted to power, or the illusion of security that power offers. When a disaster happens, those same people will turn against the false powers they trusted."

If I constantly live in this illusion of power and weakness, I don't think I'll ever truly be happy. If I continue to live in this world where I think certain people are better than me, while others rest below my 'status', then I will always see people in tiers. This kind of relates to something my Grandmother has been getting me to understand, I think.

She tells me to let go of anything and everything that is not related to Love, Truth, Beauty, & Knowing. It seems so simple in text, but when I try to apply the concepts, the challenge sets in. It's taken me years to figure out just what I find beautiful, and what I usually fall in love with. But knowing and trusting truth, that's a whole other type of game for me to try to play. But something this book has shown me, is that we can trust our gut...after it's been trained. We must train our minds, and our gut instincts to steer away from snap judgments and categorizing habits. Ultimately, it will be my gut who tells me whether or not something is true, but until I can definitively stay away from categorizing people and things, I won't be able to see the beauty and know that something is truly amazing, or truly worth my time. This stagnant routine of judgment I've created for myself closes in on my perception of life and clouds my ability to distinguish good from evil and truth from falsehood.

There were a number of themes brought up in this novel, and many I'm sure I will have to reevaluate for myself, but this one really stuck out to me. This theme of how we treat other humans really swept me away to another world-- a world where I could judge myself and how I judge other people. It seems so normal to shape people into certain types of human beings, to see them in one, maybe two ways, but nothing more. And here I always thought I had a pretty wide open perception of the world.