(no subject)
Life is so full of so much. Lately I’ve had a hard time comprehending it. I've been growing up so fast. I went from being sheltered to having that torn away from me suddenly to going out and having to survive on my own in about a month and a half. (I mean this metaphorically) I’ve surprised myself with the amount of confidence I have. I seem to be able to talk to people I don’t know and other people I do in situations that would normally be really awkward. Though its only when I can play off of other peoples lack of confidence and seemingly awkward feelings. But that’s not true confidence. I found myself stumbling when I thought I knew what to say or what to do.
Life is so much in the air right now. I love that it is interesting and new, but it scares me and makes me want to just be held and sleep. The only thing that is allowing me to really make it think is that this is what I asked God for. I asked him to let me grow up and really start that life; and now he is showing me that life, In small glimpses I should think and still letting me have some of what my safety zone would be; just enough to keep me going and interested. I love him for that so much. I honestly can feel love for him for that. And to be even more honest I don’t think I’ve really felt that before; at least not for an extended period of time. The strange part is that since this has all been happening I’ve not spent a lot of time talking to him. Which would make it a lot less scary and probably make it a lot more full.
I’ve been seeing life in so many different perspectives just this last week. It actually kind of unnerves me, Like I’ve been in situations that are usually far past my "comfort zone;" they feel so foreign and I don’t know whether they are good or bad. If they are really broadening my horizon or just pulling me to a something that’s not healthy. I compared someone to being like a new book not long ago and I think this description applies for this situation as well (they fit better for the description; though they are apart of it all changing anyways) Its like picking up a book randomly off the shelf and just starting to read.
First lets look at picking the book and what kind of book it is. Is it a paperback or a hardback? What color is it? Is it brand new or worn? Is it a large reference sized book or is it a small oddly shaped book, or perhaps just an average book? Does it have a title on the cover? Was it sitting up right on the shelf; snuggled tightly between two other books? Was it lying on its side at the bottom of pile of books? How many other countless variables are there to make each book solely different from every other book in this, let’s say library? Not even to start talking about book content or perspectives. This makes for a lot of different books. A lot of different stories, ideas, thoughts, condemnations, emotions, people.
Even though you aren't supposed to, I think almost everyone judges books by their covers (I do NOT mean this metaphorically) Each person is attracted to different things. Some like large hefty books that look like you would have to be a genius (or at least someone with far to much spare time) to get through. Some like thin paper backs that can be read at leisure. If you pick up a book that doesn't fit to you idea of what a good book should look like, you will generally put it back on the shelf. For this examples sake, lets say that after looking through all the kind of books you generally pick up, you got for something that looks (for lack of a better word) different. Something that you didn't think you would ever read. (i.e. hardback novel compared to a cookbook, or instructional guide to a children’s pop-up book)
You're holding the book in both your hands looking at the front cover, then you flip it over to your left hand looking at the back, not really reading what is says; seeing if anything will jump out you or give you a clue to what its about. You open the cover and skim through the first couple of pages, glancing at the copy right information for less than a second then looking through the chapter names to give your second impression of the book (the first being the outside, overall look of the book) Maybe see some basic topics that the book may cover. This is when the choice comes to actually start reading the book. This is the first big choice, it doesn't necessarily mean you have to finish the book, but it does mean you have to read the first couple of chapters see what will become of the chapter titles you previously read. We decide to start reading. For the sake of simplicity lets decide to start at the beginning of a book (this gets into perspectives, something that will lead to far to much confusion to mix in with this now)
You read through the first couple of chapters, fulfilling your first commitment, And you a faced with another choice, though this one is a slow choice with no definable position in the book. Once you've started to understand the plot and characters (apparently we chose a novel of some kind) you have to decide if you are intrigued enough to stick with it to the end. You could easily set it down and just kind of let it fall through the cracks, maybe coming back and reading on or two pages, but never really wanting to see how it ends. But lets decide to keep reading.
We read and read and get wrapped up into the story that it almost feels like we are part of it, or at the very least observing it like it is truly happening. Something may happen in the book that upsets you and makes you not want to finish it and you could put it down and never finish it, But at this point that would be a painful decision because you will always be wondering what was going to happen. It would also be an insult to the author. For a happy and shallower ending, we'll finish the book with a content smile.
Now I say all this to try and describe how intricate I see life as, but so simple at the same time. Say each book is a person, relationship, moment, and experiences, all the things that could happen in life. With that in mind imagine going into a three-story library with stacks and stacks and rows and rows full of millions and millions of different kinds of books. How in the world would you know what books are good to read, which books will you learn the most from, which books will be you're style and you'll be able to understand. It would be impossible to figure that out. Thus I feel overwhelmed with feeling I have to decide on a book right away, to end this very abruptly.
I do apologize for mixing my metaphors, does all that make sense though? I think this analogy could describe both life in general or personal relationships, if each book was a person. I’m sure that it is all very messy; it didn't exist in my mind an hour ago so there you go.
The sun is rising now and I want to sleep. Please ask me questions about this? Am I wrong? I want to know what you think. Honestly.
Life is so much in the air right now. I love that it is interesting and new, but it scares me and makes me want to just be held and sleep. The only thing that is allowing me to really make it think is that this is what I asked God for. I asked him to let me grow up and really start that life; and now he is showing me that life, In small glimpses I should think and still letting me have some of what my safety zone would be; just enough to keep me going and interested. I love him for that so much. I honestly can feel love for him for that. And to be even more honest I don’t think I’ve really felt that before; at least not for an extended period of time. The strange part is that since this has all been happening I’ve not spent a lot of time talking to him. Which would make it a lot less scary and probably make it a lot more full.
I’ve been seeing life in so many different perspectives just this last week. It actually kind of unnerves me, Like I’ve been in situations that are usually far past my "comfort zone;" they feel so foreign and I don’t know whether they are good or bad. If they are really broadening my horizon or just pulling me to a something that’s not healthy. I compared someone to being like a new book not long ago and I think this description applies for this situation as well (they fit better for the description; though they are apart of it all changing anyways) Its like picking up a book randomly off the shelf and just starting to read.
First lets look at picking the book and what kind of book it is. Is it a paperback or a hardback? What color is it? Is it brand new or worn? Is it a large reference sized book or is it a small oddly shaped book, or perhaps just an average book? Does it have a title on the cover? Was it sitting up right on the shelf; snuggled tightly between two other books? Was it lying on its side at the bottom of pile of books? How many other countless variables are there to make each book solely different from every other book in this, let’s say library? Not even to start talking about book content or perspectives. This makes for a lot of different books. A lot of different stories, ideas, thoughts, condemnations, emotions, people.
Even though you aren't supposed to, I think almost everyone judges books by their covers (I do NOT mean this metaphorically) Each person is attracted to different things. Some like large hefty books that look like you would have to be a genius (or at least someone with far to much spare time) to get through. Some like thin paper backs that can be read at leisure. If you pick up a book that doesn't fit to you idea of what a good book should look like, you will generally put it back on the shelf. For this examples sake, lets say that after looking through all the kind of books you generally pick up, you got for something that looks (for lack of a better word) different. Something that you didn't think you would ever read. (i.e. hardback novel compared to a cookbook, or instructional guide to a children’s pop-up book)
You're holding the book in both your hands looking at the front cover, then you flip it over to your left hand looking at the back, not really reading what is says; seeing if anything will jump out you or give you a clue to what its about. You open the cover and skim through the first couple of pages, glancing at the copy right information for less than a second then looking through the chapter names to give your second impression of the book (the first being the outside, overall look of the book) Maybe see some basic topics that the book may cover. This is when the choice comes to actually start reading the book. This is the first big choice, it doesn't necessarily mean you have to finish the book, but it does mean you have to read the first couple of chapters see what will become of the chapter titles you previously read. We decide to start reading. For the sake of simplicity lets decide to start at the beginning of a book (this gets into perspectives, something that will lead to far to much confusion to mix in with this now)
You read through the first couple of chapters, fulfilling your first commitment, And you a faced with another choice, though this one is a slow choice with no definable position in the book. Once you've started to understand the plot and characters (apparently we chose a novel of some kind) you have to decide if you are intrigued enough to stick with it to the end. You could easily set it down and just kind of let it fall through the cracks, maybe coming back and reading on or two pages, but never really wanting to see how it ends. But lets decide to keep reading.
We read and read and get wrapped up into the story that it almost feels like we are part of it, or at the very least observing it like it is truly happening. Something may happen in the book that upsets you and makes you not want to finish it and you could put it down and never finish it, But at this point that would be a painful decision because you will always be wondering what was going to happen. It would also be an insult to the author. For a happy and shallower ending, we'll finish the book with a content smile.
Now I say all this to try and describe how intricate I see life as, but so simple at the same time. Say each book is a person, relationship, moment, and experiences, all the things that could happen in life. With that in mind imagine going into a three-story library with stacks and stacks and rows and rows full of millions and millions of different kinds of books. How in the world would you know what books are good to read, which books will you learn the most from, which books will be you're style and you'll be able to understand. It would be impossible to figure that out. Thus I feel overwhelmed with feeling I have to decide on a book right away, to end this very abruptly.
I do apologize for mixing my metaphors, does all that make sense though? I think this analogy could describe both life in general or personal relationships, if each book was a person. I’m sure that it is all very messy; it didn't exist in my mind an hour ago so there you go.
The sun is rising now and I want to sleep. Please ask me questions about this? Am I wrong? I want to know what you think. Honestly.