Kierkegaard...it doesn't get any better. My saturday began slightly sorrowful, wishing I were with friends at the beach, wishing I didn't have so much homework, wishing I could physically and emotionally allow myself to sleep, wishing my boyfriend was at least in the same state, wishing...this day away. You have reminded me, (ok, you're book reminded me because you have long been dead) that when you wish something, you inadvertently wish something away...and you don't get to pick what it is. What the hell am I talking about? If I continue to wish saturday away, and I get my wish, then I don't get to read your book...
This is what I found...
"What matters is to find my purpose, to see what it really is that God wills that I shall do; the crucial thing is to find a truth that is truth for me, to find the idea for which I am willing to live and die. Of what use would it be to me to discover a so-called objective truth, to work through the philisophical systems so that I could, if asked, make judgments about them, could point out the fallacies in each system; of what use would it be to me to be able to develop a theory of the state, getting details from various sources and combining them into a whole, and constructing a world I did not live in but merely held up for others to see; of what use would it be to me to be able to formulate the meaning of Christianity, to be able to explain many specific points-if it had no deeper meaning for me and for my life?"
Kierkegaard understands the depths of my desire to know myself, quite possibly more than anyone I've ever met. I go neurotic about this like, twice a week. So much so that I'm convinced he were still alive I would have to stalk him in person and on facebook and make him my bff. He describes above why I find so many people so stuffy. Religion is a mask to hide behind for so many people...so many seem to think that racking up degrees and dollar figures is the essence of life. It's an over-rated game that really makes me want to play in traffic. Now.
He goes on for pages after this paragraph about how in order to know the meaning of your life, you must first know yourself. Kierkegaard refers to an inward solace; diligently listening to your mind and knowing why it is you think that way...he talks about knowing the great things about yourself but mostly, knowing the worst things. He's sad that after years of quiet and consistent contemplation, he still feels alone and in the dark...but just as if it were my own journal, he realizes all at once that he alone is responsible for stirring up his own depression and is just the same responsible for overcoming it... He finishes with this..
"I will not lament the past-why lament? I will work energetically and not waste time in regrets, like the person stuck in a bog and first calculating how far he has sunk without recognizing that during the time he spends on that he is sinking still deeper. I will hurry along the path I have found and shout to everyone i meet: Do not look back as Lot's wife did, but remember that we are struggling up a hill."
Brilliant. Feeling sorry for our own poor understanding puts us no closer to understanding it, or better doing something about it! You just have to keep trying...because even though some hide it better than others, we're all "struggling up a hill."
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
love vs. in love
(While running through my journal today, I found this. I wrote it April 21, 2008, just about one year ago. This is my original, unedited and historical feeling that still feels perfectly true, right, and relevant.)
The depth to my recent thoughts resulted in writing this in my journal. I was trying to explain to a skeptical friend the other day that you can love someone and not be in love with them...that they are very different in fact. They asked me how so, and I wasn't sure exactly how to put it....of course, the words came to me much later in the privacy of my own random thoughts, so here they are.
Love Vs. In love
Love is "being there" for someone when they need you; being in love means that you always need that unspoken connection and you cannot help but "be there."
Love is genuinely enjoying ones company; in love feels the deep loss of self when your companion is absent, even if for a moment.
Love is giving; in love is being...an exchange that you can't even realize is taking place.
Love involves great depth; but to be in love has no real dimensions, no end, no real start or explainable reason.
Love can be a single moment, and for some of those lucky ones, for a lifetime; but in love cannot be stopped by any force of our own. It's an involuntary emotion that is unalterable.
Love can finish sentences, but in love requires no words at all.
**Added June 19, 2009: If you've ever wondered what the difference is, then you've never been in love. You can't feel in love for only a moment, it's something you'll always feel whether it's right, wrong, socially accepted or not. Being in love is never wrong, and should always be fought for at all costs, even when if it means being alone and scared. If we don't ever search for mr. in love, then we are settling for love, and cutting our own selves short. God gave us our souls to be completely shared, not just in part. He gave us the ultimate love to give; who are we to not give it? If you only share a little bit, you will only get a little bit in return. But if you shamelessly, boldly give all of yourself; what you get in return is ...everything.
The depth to my recent thoughts resulted in writing this in my journal. I was trying to explain to a skeptical friend the other day that you can love someone and not be in love with them...that they are very different in fact. They asked me how so, and I wasn't sure exactly how to put it....of course, the words came to me much later in the privacy of my own random thoughts, so here they are.
Love Vs. In love
Love is "being there" for someone when they need you; being in love means that you always need that unspoken connection and you cannot help but "be there."
Love is genuinely enjoying ones company; in love feels the deep loss of self when your companion is absent, even if for a moment.
Love is giving; in love is being...an exchange that you can't even realize is taking place.
Love involves great depth; but to be in love has no real dimensions, no end, no real start or explainable reason.
Love can be a single moment, and for some of those lucky ones, for a lifetime; but in love cannot be stopped by any force of our own. It's an involuntary emotion that is unalterable.
Love can finish sentences, but in love requires no words at all.
**Added June 19, 2009: If you've ever wondered what the difference is, then you've never been in love. You can't feel in love for only a moment, it's something you'll always feel whether it's right, wrong, socially accepted or not. Being in love is never wrong, and should always be fought for at all costs, even when if it means being alone and scared. If we don't ever search for mr. in love, then we are settling for love, and cutting our own selves short. God gave us our souls to be completely shared, not just in part. He gave us the ultimate love to give; who are we to not give it? If you only share a little bit, you will only get a little bit in return. But if you shamelessly, boldly give all of yourself; what you get in return is ...everything.
Monday, June 15, 2009
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you, not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There is nothing enlighted about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you." -Nelson Mandela
Friday, May 29, 2009
reflected
I came home frome having dinner with old friends all fired up recently, because it further cemented feelings I have had all along, but that were kept much beneath the surface. Let me start at the beginning.
In high school, I was once asked to write a paper on what I thought people would say about me at my funeral. I was dumbfounded; I knew that my dominant attributes and contributions to the world as I knew it were limited, and quite negative. Perhaps it was my perspective of the world as to why I had lived that way, but the gathering over my death I envisioned would not happen the way I wanted it to. I knew, at 17, that I was letting mysef be defined by all the wrong things; that what I was then known for was not really who I was, and it certainly was not who I wanted to be when I left the world. Tonight, I sat around the table, and felt that similar feeling of not wanting to belong to this. There had to be something more. This is a rough outline of the paper I couldn't write then.
I can't play this game any longer. I don't desire to "keep up" with current popular ideas of how 23 year olds should live. I might be a christian young lady who went to private school and occasionally goes to church, but I don't want to be in a choir, get married (that's right I said it), have children tommorrow, or become a teacher. And also, I don't like cooking, and I like 4 shots of espresso all at once. Some call me extreme; I'd prefer to think of myself as keepin' it real. I dare to be bold on a daily basis, and like it that way. I even admit to being raw and unkempt 97% of the time. I don't set out to offend people, but if I do, I'm sorry, but get over it. If I go out of this world and some of you reading this were confused, then my life was meaningless, as I see it.
At my funeral, if someone brings up my gpa, grades or what school I went to, I'll come alive from my casket ready for a fight. They do not make me worthy of anything except a good paying job, but even then, my worth will not be defined by a dollar sign. I'm money-driven, like anyone who values hard work...but I'm not driven by money. Two TOTALLY different ideas. On the same note, I refuse to be defined by how fast I run, how high I can fly, or any other limitless amount of athletic abilities I may or may not have...they only are such a big part of my life for the people that come with them. Those people will hopefully have good stories. It sure as hell won't be about possessions. (This is a joke, because if you know me, I don't have very much.)
I'd rather that my funeral be utterly silent with people who can't find the words, but whom know that unexplainably, their life won't be the same. The one friend who loved them regardless of their decisions; who showed up when everyone else was on their way out. Who gave money and time when they didn't think she had it...she found it. She was dependable, unexplainably loving, limitlessly giving, always honest and up front, but gentle with ones soul. I don't think there are words for feeling the loss of these things, because they are actions of the heart. I don't want to talk my way or give people justifiable reasons to why our friendship exists. We will just "be." Just....let yourself be. Often, our existence overlaps with others doing the same...being. It's not an exchange of words or events shared, at least not sensible recollections of them. We become bonded to those who can revel in our silence, absorb it and interpret it for exactly what it is, without exchanging any obvious form of communication.
Fast forward to the other night....dinner. I sat around a table talking about things that are utterly meaningless to me. If you were present at that dinner, here's what I didn't say: According to your standards, I have nothing fancy planned in the next year. No internship overseas...I'm not ready for Graduate school yet. I don't know when I'm graduating, but I know I'm working really hard towards it. Yea, I am a little smaller but it's not becuase I'm superhuman like you say. Don't brush me off like I was born with some small gene and you weren't, I just choose to wake up earlier and go for a run while the rest of the world sleeps. I also don't need any favors, and just because I wear spandex and baggy t shirts doesn't make me any less stylish than you. It's perspective, I respect you for yours and always have. Don't you DARE hold me to your standards to life. Is doug marriage material? Well obviously, but I don't want to get married right now. He's best friend material. I am happy, we love eachother, and that's more than enough right now. Why couldn't you have asked if he made me happy?
What else I would have told you if you had cared: that I think that I discovered the meaning of life! It's living in each moment and not letting it pass you by. I realized that if I try, I can run really fast. I've been in touch with my family and am beginning to see their strengths, and am inspired by it. I talk weekly to my grandmother on the phone, and she is one of the most beautiful people I've ever met. I still wake up early and go to bed very late, but that's only because each day contains so many attention-demanding-yet-pleasant moments, that I feel that if I don't live in that moment, that it won't be there again. You remember how much I love the sunshine? I've begun to love the rain, too. I have a cat, and we are a perfect pair. My roomate has become an incredible friend, and I am lucky to come home to her every night, and I will tell her everyday until one day, she believes me. :-) Please take me out of your box. When will you see that you can't keep me there?
rest of the paper....to be continued.
In high school, I was once asked to write a paper on what I thought people would say about me at my funeral. I was dumbfounded; I knew that my dominant attributes and contributions to the world as I knew it were limited, and quite negative. Perhaps it was my perspective of the world as to why I had lived that way, but the gathering over my death I envisioned would not happen the way I wanted it to. I knew, at 17, that I was letting mysef be defined by all the wrong things; that what I was then known for was not really who I was, and it certainly was not who I wanted to be when I left the world. Tonight, I sat around the table, and felt that similar feeling of not wanting to belong to this. There had to be something more. This is a rough outline of the paper I couldn't write then.
I can't play this game any longer. I don't desire to "keep up" with current popular ideas of how 23 year olds should live. I might be a christian young lady who went to private school and occasionally goes to church, but I don't want to be in a choir, get married (that's right I said it), have children tommorrow, or become a teacher. And also, I don't like cooking, and I like 4 shots of espresso all at once. Some call me extreme; I'd prefer to think of myself as keepin' it real. I dare to be bold on a daily basis, and like it that way. I even admit to being raw and unkempt 97% of the time. I don't set out to offend people, but if I do, I'm sorry, but get over it. If I go out of this world and some of you reading this were confused, then my life was meaningless, as I see it.
At my funeral, if someone brings up my gpa, grades or what school I went to, I'll come alive from my casket ready for a fight. They do not make me worthy of anything except a good paying job, but even then, my worth will not be defined by a dollar sign. I'm money-driven, like anyone who values hard work...but I'm not driven by money. Two TOTALLY different ideas. On the same note, I refuse to be defined by how fast I run, how high I can fly, or any other limitless amount of athletic abilities I may or may not have...they only are such a big part of my life for the people that come with them. Those people will hopefully have good stories. It sure as hell won't be about possessions. (This is a joke, because if you know me, I don't have very much.)
I'd rather that my funeral be utterly silent with people who can't find the words, but whom know that unexplainably, their life won't be the same. The one friend who loved them regardless of their decisions; who showed up when everyone else was on their way out. Who gave money and time when they didn't think she had it...she found it. She was dependable, unexplainably loving, limitlessly giving, always honest and up front, but gentle with ones soul. I don't think there are words for feeling the loss of these things, because they are actions of the heart. I don't want to talk my way or give people justifiable reasons to why our friendship exists. We will just "be." Just....let yourself be. Often, our existence overlaps with others doing the same...being. It's not an exchange of words or events shared, at least not sensible recollections of them. We become bonded to those who can revel in our silence, absorb it and interpret it for exactly what it is, without exchanging any obvious form of communication.
Fast forward to the other night....dinner. I sat around a table talking about things that are utterly meaningless to me. If you were present at that dinner, here's what I didn't say: According to your standards, I have nothing fancy planned in the next year. No internship overseas...I'm not ready for Graduate school yet. I don't know when I'm graduating, but I know I'm working really hard towards it. Yea, I am a little smaller but it's not becuase I'm superhuman like you say. Don't brush me off like I was born with some small gene and you weren't, I just choose to wake up earlier and go for a run while the rest of the world sleeps. I also don't need any favors, and just because I wear spandex and baggy t shirts doesn't make me any less stylish than you. It's perspective, I respect you for yours and always have. Don't you DARE hold me to your standards to life. Is doug marriage material? Well obviously, but I don't want to get married right now. He's best friend material. I am happy, we love eachother, and that's more than enough right now. Why couldn't you have asked if he made me happy?
What else I would have told you if you had cared: that I think that I discovered the meaning of life! It's living in each moment and not letting it pass you by. I realized that if I try, I can run really fast. I've been in touch with my family and am beginning to see their strengths, and am inspired by it. I talk weekly to my grandmother on the phone, and she is one of the most beautiful people I've ever met. I still wake up early and go to bed very late, but that's only because each day contains so many attention-demanding-yet-pleasant moments, that I feel that if I don't live in that moment, that it won't be there again. You remember how much I love the sunshine? I've begun to love the rain, too. I have a cat, and we are a perfect pair. My roomate has become an incredible friend, and I am lucky to come home to her every night, and I will tell her everyday until one day, she believes me. :-) Please take me out of your box. When will you see that you can't keep me there?
rest of the paper....to be continued.
age unknown
It's a world unknown: to know life far beyond a bad haircut or failing a class, but to find the idea of marrying so undesirable. I grew up, says my age, but wish I didn't. I fell in the black hole, somewhere between 17 and 32. The most awkward stage, set aside conveniently for effing up in every comprehensible way and for making backwards decisions that you will regret immediately upon pulling yourself out of this hole. I'm refraining from piercing my nose and tatooing my rib cage. (If I haven't already mentioned, while residing in the black hole, permanent decisions must not be made. At least, not any more.) I'm afraid to spend money on myself. It's safe to assume that one slip of the credit card and I will be another 2o-something-year-old with thousands of dollars in credit card debt...The hole is filled with a million walking reminders, in the form of Coach bags, trendy forms of transportation, and expensive jeans. Another problem, down here, we all think we're in invincible. How many times will I fall and break myself and still be unneccessarily ballsy? I often hear the older ones mutter on the outside that "one day you'll grow up and realize that you're not what you used to be." Call me crazy (or young.) But I don't believe it. I happen to believe the world is what you make it; while it is broken, there is beauty in it. There is good-hearted people, who mean to do good, who set out to do good; who just can't help but be whole-heartedly good. There are people who still believe they are invincible, and whom I believe still are. And also, they are ageless. They are 12, and 84. They are not broken by circumstances. Other people are unable to destroy their soul. They are imperfect and know it, admit it, and try everyday to change it, but not for any other reason than it's simply the right thing to do. I refuse to believe that all people are selfish. I don't like this idea of doing only for yourself, or just enough to get by. I may be calloused and diseased by many things, but settling will never be one of them.
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