OK.
Wow, am I really doing this? OK, I have some things to say. I'm writing it, and I'm not looking back. So forgive me if it doesn't always make sense.
Where to start? Alright, well I think it all started with my Mom joining the program. With her guidance, along with my own inherent tendencies, I've grown to be almost painfully self-aware. It made me think about things I knew but didn't want to think about, like keeping a list of my virtues and faults, and observing them at play in my life. My mother confronts my periods of negativity as self-indulgent, and asks me to pray for people who bother me instead of resenting them.
I wonder how this point of view has affected my view of other people. I never like to think about people in ways they wouldn't want me to, delving into their personalities and trying to be as aware of their actions as I am of my own. I never knew I did it, but when I got to college a number of people picked me out as having a very perceptive nature. I wouldn't say that's accurate, but maybe I've never thought about it. It seems dangerous to be able to sense things people don't necessarily want you to see, and it's always hard to distinguish what a person wants to have on the outside from what is simply poorly hidden.
It seems wonderful to embrace people as living, breathing, thinking, unique beings. Do you wish, when you're sitting in a room with a group of people, that you could freeze the moment? You could walk around, looking at the expressions on the faces, feeling the direction of the focus. You could feel the personality just as you could see it in the lines of a person's face, and you could run your hands over their faces and feel the life of it all under your fingers.
So I find the first major dichotomy. The things one experiences, big or small, good or bad, momentary or life-long, have an unspeakable quality of beauty and importance. Memories, after all, are of things we've really seen or done. The smallest things, the feel of being in a room with the people you love, really tasty pizza, the warmth of the sun, are real and are the things that move us to live our lives.
But there is another force at play. As much as I love things that are real, I find I linger, I nearly live, in the world of fantasy. So what of of daydreaming, years of disillusionment, an insistence on things you believe but cannot see? It extends to the point of insanity and then backs away in time to seem nothing more than a free spirit with lofty dreams and important ideas. No doubt there is a lot to be said for the ability to see things that aren't there, at least yet. It allows us to see what we want, and hell it's fun.
What matters more, then? Is there more to be said for embracing what's real and there, and working with it to make yourself happy, or is it a better idea to let your mind wander to the very borders of possibility and then let your body sprint after it? Sure, the answer is clear. Do both! Live in reality, love what's happening, and dream and plan for the future. Maybe I'm the only one who gets caught in between. I find my dreams drawn down sometimes by the constraints of my reality, and I find my vision in real life clouded by all the maybes and somedays.
I suppose it's the same as living in the moment versus living in the future or the past. Living in the moment seems like a brilliant idea, but what do you do when your moment comes up against a bitter moment you could have foreseen? There is neverending promise and possibility in the future, it seems like living there could free you of the struggles of today, filling you with courage born of your confidence in the fulfillment of your dreams. Still, living in the future there is so much to be missed. Always dreaming about things you don't have yet and never caring for the wondrous things that are yours now. Instead of enjoying the firsts of everything, your mind is always already on the nexts. The past seems to be a sad place to linger, full of moments you can never return to and things you'll never have again. However, I also see it as a wonderful idea to embrace the past -- to be at peace and satisfied with the things one has done, and to embrace the sense of regret where one finds it but feel a deep understanding of why things happened the way they did.
I'm going nowhere; I'm going to stop. I've talked for along time, but it doesn't touch where I'm going. I've left a handful of notions, but the things I've been dying to say, a list of things that to me seem important or they wouldn't swirl in my head the way they do, demanding my attention, are not here. I wish I could leave a truer introduction to a struggle that can't possibly be mine alone, but who really wants to hear about it? Who really wants to see it painfully drawn into words that anyone can see don't even touch the reality of the feelings?
Where to start? Alright, well I think it all started with my Mom joining the program. With her guidance, along with my own inherent tendencies, I've grown to be almost painfully self-aware. It made me think about things I knew but didn't want to think about, like keeping a list of my virtues and faults, and observing them at play in my life. My mother confronts my periods of negativity as self-indulgent, and asks me to pray for people who bother me instead of resenting them.
I wonder how this point of view has affected my view of other people. I never like to think about people in ways they wouldn't want me to, delving into their personalities and trying to be as aware of their actions as I am of my own. I never knew I did it, but when I got to college a number of people picked me out as having a very perceptive nature. I wouldn't say that's accurate, but maybe I've never thought about it. It seems dangerous to be able to sense things people don't necessarily want you to see, and it's always hard to distinguish what a person wants to have on the outside from what is simply poorly hidden.
It seems wonderful to embrace people as living, breathing, thinking, unique beings. Do you wish, when you're sitting in a room with a group of people, that you could freeze the moment? You could walk around, looking at the expressions on the faces, feeling the direction of the focus. You could feel the personality just as you could see it in the lines of a person's face, and you could run your hands over their faces and feel the life of it all under your fingers.
So I find the first major dichotomy. The things one experiences, big or small, good or bad, momentary or life-long, have an unspeakable quality of beauty and importance. Memories, after all, are of things we've really seen or done. The smallest things, the feel of being in a room with the people you love, really tasty pizza, the warmth of the sun, are real and are the things that move us to live our lives.
But there is another force at play. As much as I love things that are real, I find I linger, I nearly live, in the world of fantasy. So what of of daydreaming, years of disillusionment, an insistence on things you believe but cannot see? It extends to the point of insanity and then backs away in time to seem nothing more than a free spirit with lofty dreams and important ideas. No doubt there is a lot to be said for the ability to see things that aren't there, at least yet. It allows us to see what we want, and hell it's fun.
What matters more, then? Is there more to be said for embracing what's real and there, and working with it to make yourself happy, or is it a better idea to let your mind wander to the very borders of possibility and then let your body sprint after it? Sure, the answer is clear. Do both! Live in reality, love what's happening, and dream and plan for the future. Maybe I'm the only one who gets caught in between. I find my dreams drawn down sometimes by the constraints of my reality, and I find my vision in real life clouded by all the maybes and somedays.
I suppose it's the same as living in the moment versus living in the future or the past. Living in the moment seems like a brilliant idea, but what do you do when your moment comes up against a bitter moment you could have foreseen? There is neverending promise and possibility in the future, it seems like living there could free you of the struggles of today, filling you with courage born of your confidence in the fulfillment of your dreams. Still, living in the future there is so much to be missed. Always dreaming about things you don't have yet and never caring for the wondrous things that are yours now. Instead of enjoying the firsts of everything, your mind is always already on the nexts. The past seems to be a sad place to linger, full of moments you can never return to and things you'll never have again. However, I also see it as a wonderful idea to embrace the past -- to be at peace and satisfied with the things one has done, and to embrace the sense of regret where one finds it but feel a deep understanding of why things happened the way they did.
I'm going nowhere; I'm going to stop. I've talked for along time, but it doesn't touch where I'm going. I've left a handful of notions, but the things I've been dying to say, a list of things that to me seem important or they wouldn't swirl in my head the way they do, demanding my attention, are not here. I wish I could leave a truer introduction to a struggle that can't possibly be mine alone, but who really wants to hear about it? Who really wants to see it painfully drawn into words that anyone can see don't even touch the reality of the feelings?