Day ...um...Something
Been reading the Screwtape Letters. Very interesting book. I am thankful to my mother for gifting it to me. I'm already in book two of...um...however many are in the compilation I was given.
My meditations have taken an odd twist. I reached a cluster of memories that I can't place properly. Again I find regret that I was not strong enough to handle my own life then. Judging by the nature of one of them, I know that it was from one of the nights I walked home. I was thinking out loud. Most of the memories have been really sad, but this one was...I don't know. The was rage. Not pure rage though. It's kind of hard to explain the mixed shades of emotion. At this time I believe it to be at the beginning when I first began to convert my sadness to anger.
I know that in the eyes of the world i should not be having difficulty with this now, but when I hit this barrier it shook me. I started hypoventilating and quickly had a headache. The line between exploring and indulging is a little blurrier now, but by not turning away I managed to get other memory fragments from the same burst. Unfortunately they make less sense than the first one.
Rebuilding myself is never an easy process, nor is change. A proper change only seems to occur when I am at my brink, whatever that may be at the time. It's like a psychological suicide. Oddly though, I always feel the need to leave a way back. My memories are tied to cues: locations, discussion topics, feelings.If I"m prepared for it I can usually handle it without people noticing it. Other times, though, like when Josh drove me to Waterford Lakes (my father's old home in Orlando), I become completely non-functional.
Sense all of the memories are tied to specific stimuli it is difficult to know when I"m going to run into somethign that I should prepare for especially since I don't know what that might be. It's like reliving a moment, but only one part of it. Sometimes, I feel strong emotions but I don't know why, other times mental images or thoughts that have nothing to do with the present.
IN the case of the unplacable memory I found this time. It's words...If it were an echoic memory I woul dhave a voice attached or a sense of who...but it's small and random. It oculd be anything from a self-destructive thought, to a phone call or conversation, or it could be an AIM argument. I just don't know, and that frustrates me.
Well at any rate, I still believe that what I am doing is right, even if it is confusing and physically taxing. If I am to continue I must make sure that I push each night so as not to lose my nerve.
Changing topic matter back to my readings. I still am confused about self-consecration. Not entirely sure what the reason in the future for my doing this is, however, I see no ill bearing to it. I have prayed to the lord and asked what is to be done through this. In time all things will be made clear of this I am certain. In the interrum, I find that I have felt, for th emost part blissful for a while now. I spend my days happy and easily satisfied and only in the privacy of my meditations have I found sorrow.
It's strange. When I was younger I always joked that i was divinely protected. Now that I am pursuing my spirituality again, I have been blessed in more ways than I can comprehend. Six months into the year and stil the things I desire keep coming to fruition through no direct action of my own. Call it what you will, but I feel protected. HOpefully this will not lead me to the same reckless arrogance that I have had in the past. In the meantime I will simply pray and purify my heart that I may not be a traitor to my cause.
One final note before I leave, I have begun the planning stages of writing a treatise on honor as I understand it. I see it as a Bushido view of Christianity. One of my pastors as well as a couple of my friends seem really interested in the idea, however I worry about the difficulty with grey areas of my beliefs which may not fall in line with Christian doctorine. Somethign to think about.
My meditations have taken an odd twist. I reached a cluster of memories that I can't place properly. Again I find regret that I was not strong enough to handle my own life then. Judging by the nature of one of them, I know that it was from one of the nights I walked home. I was thinking out loud. Most of the memories have been really sad, but this one was...I don't know. The was rage. Not pure rage though. It's kind of hard to explain the mixed shades of emotion. At this time I believe it to be at the beginning when I first began to convert my sadness to anger.
I know that in the eyes of the world i should not be having difficulty with this now, but when I hit this barrier it shook me. I started hypoventilating and quickly had a headache. The line between exploring and indulging is a little blurrier now, but by not turning away I managed to get other memory fragments from the same burst. Unfortunately they make less sense than the first one.
Rebuilding myself is never an easy process, nor is change. A proper change only seems to occur when I am at my brink, whatever that may be at the time. It's like a psychological suicide. Oddly though, I always feel the need to leave a way back. My memories are tied to cues: locations, discussion topics, feelings.If I"m prepared for it I can usually handle it without people noticing it. Other times, though, like when Josh drove me to Waterford Lakes (my father's old home in Orlando), I become completely non-functional.
Sense all of the memories are tied to specific stimuli it is difficult to know when I"m going to run into somethign that I should prepare for especially since I don't know what that might be. It's like reliving a moment, but only one part of it. Sometimes, I feel strong emotions but I don't know why, other times mental images or thoughts that have nothing to do with the present.
IN the case of the unplacable memory I found this time. It's words...If it were an echoic memory I woul dhave a voice attached or a sense of who...but it's small and random. It oculd be anything from a self-destructive thought, to a phone call or conversation, or it could be an AIM argument. I just don't know, and that frustrates me.
Well at any rate, I still believe that what I am doing is right, even if it is confusing and physically taxing. If I am to continue I must make sure that I push each night so as not to lose my nerve.
Changing topic matter back to my readings. I still am confused about self-consecration. Not entirely sure what the reason in the future for my doing this is, however, I see no ill bearing to it. I have prayed to the lord and asked what is to be done through this. In time all things will be made clear of this I am certain. In the interrum, I find that I have felt, for th emost part blissful for a while now. I spend my days happy and easily satisfied and only in the privacy of my meditations have I found sorrow.
It's strange. When I was younger I always joked that i was divinely protected. Now that I am pursuing my spirituality again, I have been blessed in more ways than I can comprehend. Six months into the year and stil the things I desire keep coming to fruition through no direct action of my own. Call it what you will, but I feel protected. HOpefully this will not lead me to the same reckless arrogance that I have had in the past. In the meantime I will simply pray and purify my heart that I may not be a traitor to my cause.
One final note before I leave, I have begun the planning stages of writing a treatise on honor as I understand it. I see it as a Bushido view of Christianity. One of my pastors as well as a couple of my friends seem really interested in the idea, however I worry about the difficulty with grey areas of my beliefs which may not fall in line with Christian doctorine. Somethign to think about.