Through these past few years, I've come to understand that, good or bad, happy or sad, there is a reason for every season in our lives. We can fight it, deny it, or ignore it, but there is a reason we are alive now and a reason why we’re going through everything that we are. The events in our lives mean something significant, but it is not until we step back and take the focus off ourselves, that we can see how each of our lives are just singular (but important) puzzle pieces that make up a much, much bigger picture.
The season of Christmas is no different – there is a reason for the season.. but it’s not about fancy dinners and festivities, nor presents and pleasing ourselves.. It is not the ‘I’ in Christmas that we must focus on, but the ‘Christ’ in Christmas. It’s the most wonderful day of the year, but not because it’s a holiday that most of us have off. It’s because it’s a holy day – the reason that there is still a future and a hope for the otherwise rather sad lot of us that comprise the human race. This season, I do not wish to seek love and favor from people whom there is no real pleasing or more gadgets and trinkets that distract me and clutter up my life, but I seek the heart of Jesus and his love that lasts longer than a lifetime.. for I’d rather not trade my forever for something so fleeting on this earth. Eternity’s just too long to be wrong.. so after a lifetime of fighting against it, denying it, and ignoring it, let’s try to set things right. Believe in Christmas for what it truly means, not just its shiny, superficial, tinsel-covered exerior. I believe in CHRISTmas, do you?
It’s funny how a free Christmas music sampler can stir something inside of me.. Merry Christmas, everyone!
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Boldly Drawn Boy
Like the artist He is, His unmistakable mark has been indelibly etched on my life. There is no doubt about it – this could not be construed as anything other than what it is – this is the work of the Master Artisan. There is no greater author that could have penned my story. No one could have predicted my path. Every event and nonevent – a subtle, stroke of genius; each gentle, guiding touch – essential in helping me piece together the mysteries of my life, which would lead me to this very point.
If you were to ask me a few years ago the likelihood of me returning to school, let alone a Christian college, I wouldn't have had to give the question a moment's thought. I had no desire whatsoever to further my education. I had felt that that part of my life was thankfully over. For all intents and purposes I was done with school. I was done learning and ready for earning. The career I had chosen was to be my one and only – for better or for worse, I was a Civil Engineer. It was finally time for me to put all of those arduous years of education to practice. It was finally time to start my professional, adult life. But as I came to learn recently, life is never simple and you never, ever stop learning.
For as long as I can remember, I have considered myself a “good Christian”, even though I did not truly understand what that meant. When I was little, I did not argue with my parents when they told me we celebrated Christmas because Jesus was born, and I did not question them when they told me that Jesus died for us and was reborn at Easter time. Much like the many other queries little kids have, like why an uncovered yawn is as contagious as an uncovered cough, or why we eat soup when we get sick, or why we should refrain from sneezing when we eat saimin, the actual answers were too much for us to comprehend at the time and were best left to the rationale that our parents just knew what was best. I had no reason to not believe them; they loved me and wanted only the best for me. So when my parents told me that Jesus’ sacrifice was to free us from our sins and for that we must behave, for the most part, I didn’t whine or complain – I did what I was told. I didn’t really care too much to know why the skinny man with the beard wanted me to behave and who he was exactly – for as long as my parents loved me, the jolly, fat man gave me presents at Christmastime, and the bunny rabbit hid me colorful eggs to find during Easter, I was a happy, well-behaved little boy.
Thus, I grew up quiet and humble, loyal and obedient, not caring too much about the details concerning why I was doing the things I did, but knowing I was doing the right thing. I was studious and serious, reticent and reverent – the exact opposite of most little boys my age, but that observation would go overlooked by me until much later.
As I grew older, the frail veil of innocence began to wear thin. I started to see just how different I was from everyone else. I saw how others bended and broke the rules. I saw how others mistreated and misused their fellow man. I saw how others did whatever they needed to get what they wanted. And yet, I saw how these ‘others’ seemingly remained happy. My family continued to operate within the laws, respect others, and help and accommodate their family and friends unconditionally, while so many others did as they pleased, without any regard or respect for anyone else, and still they seemed to prosper. It was as if they somehow had it better than us and that things were so much easier for them, whilst my family struggled and was constantly being stepped on. I was no longer that happy little boy who didn’t whine or complain. I became frustrated and depressed, and I finally started asking ‘why?’.
But of course asking questions without seeking their answers wouldn’t solve any of my problems, but that’s what I did. Instead of looking to where I needed to fix my outlook and address the issues, I turned inward and looked downward. My life became breeding grounds for discontentment, self-pity, and loneliness. I had a slight inkling that the answer to my “why’s” lay with the skinny man with the beard, but it didn’t make any sense to me. Why did he go through the things that he did? Just what was he thinking? I tried half-heartedly to poke around at the Bible, but it just felt like an archaic collection of stories with lessons. My few appearances at different churches didn’t do much more to sway my mind either. Those churches just seemed like places where people pretended to be nice and holy for one day of the week. I saw that some of these so-called, self-proclaimed “Christians” behaved just as the ‘others’ did instead of being the beacons of light, hope, and love I thought they should have been. Thus, I remained in darkness and despair for several years to follow. However, despite my despondent attitude, I remained considerate and obedient, trying my best to do what was right while clinging to a small shred of hope that one day, someway and somehow, I would begin to understand and finally put my weary mind at ease.
Slowly but surely, over the past four, maybe five years, I noticed changes in my life – some small, others significant. I didn’t always notice them right away, but looking back I see just how much of a difference they made on my life. Some people and incidents broke me down, while others built me up, changing my heart and perspective and making me stronger in character as well as in faith. This could not be passed off as just some random happenstance. There was no doubt about it – this was God’s distinctive hand on my life. He started chipping away at my rough and callous exterior and removed the rather large chip that resided on my shoulder, and then built upon the foundation of humility and respect that He put in place long before. Subsequently, He started developing a voice where there once was silence.
This timid boy who previously had no opinion and nothing important to say, felt he finally had something he needed to tell people. As I began putting to paper my thoughts, my past, my present, the people around me – all became pieces of a puzzle that began to fit together, revealing more and more the masterpiece that God had painted of my life’s journey. I started to understand my “why’s”. I started to see that others were just as hurt, frustrated, and lost as I was and that they were just seeking fulfillment and happiness in terms that they understood. Although I didn’t have a complete grasp and understanding of my faith and I didn’t yet have the relationship with God that I wanted, I saw a faith, reasonable and rational, that made sense of the wild, wild world around me. I saw a better way, and I wanted others to see what I was beginning to see. Before long, my words came to life: my passions, my perspectives, my personality – all that He brought together inside of me – became relevant and relatable, so that I may try to reach out to others. Whimsical musings, thoughtful reflections, and a vivid vocabulary flowed from my heart. I never had an interest in writing before and though I did decently in my English classes while I was in school, I never really cared for most of them. In spite of that, as I became more and more passionate about what I had to say, I started growing more and more passionate as a writer.
So now, here I am... my story: uniquely my own. My faith: unlike anyone else’s. Some people’s faith ignites with just a few sparks. Mine required a little more time to develop. Molded and formed with a loving purpose, I showed some early signs of a humble servant, a man after God’s own heart. However, it was not until I started to mature and grow in the Lord that I began to understand the “why’s” of life and see what His plan for me entailed. Each step – critical to making me the man I am today. Each trial, each struggle, although so painful and trying, has given me more faith and strength to persevere. It could have only been God’s uncanny know-how, His impeccable timing, and His perfect blueprint that could have gotten me this far. A very specific, unalterable chain of events had to occur that would wear me out, break me down, and ultimately, get through that thick, nearly impenetrable skull of mine. I wouldn’t be standing here today if things happened any differently. It was the only way God could reach me – only under His meticulous regimen and close care could I have ever hoped to be cured of my melancholy mindset. Like a bone that has to be broken again to correctly heal, He had to fracture my life so that He could fix it properly. I had to hurt more before I could ever begin to heal. There had to be a breakdown before there was a breakthrough. I had to be lost in order to be found.
Your story may be different from mine, but maybe my perspectives could speak to you about your life. I know what it’s like to be lost. I know what it’s like to feel hurt. And I know how frustrating life can sometimes be. This world can be a very cold and lonely place and so much of the love and happiness that we hope for, strive for – that we count on to bring meaning or completeness to our lives – turns out to be fleeting or false. It is understandable that we feel disappointed or upset, but, in all actuality, the blame lies mostly with us. We have come to believe that the most important person in this world, or any other, is ourselves. Ever since that first forbidden fruit was picked, our egos have stifled the full potential God had hoped for our lives. With the rise of reality television, Twitter, and, yes, even Facebook, it has become apparent to me that we actually believe we are celebrities and superstars. We really do think that we are much wiser and in more control than we really are. But like when we were kids, we still lack the capacity to grasp the actual answers to the big questions in life. We have been given free will and the privilege to make our own choices, but like a child who has found his father’s gun, we do not realize how dangerous it can be in our hands. More often than not, we end up hurting ourselves or others. It’s always been best to defer to our parent’s judgment – for they know best. When I decided to defer to my Father – our Heavenly Father – I started to recognize the rationale and compassion of that skinny man with the beard that I heard about all those years ago. The answers I had been longing for all along lay with Jesus. He had the heart and understanding that could fix my dismal view of the world. And whatever your view of the world, I’m sure there’s at least a thing or two Jesus can still show you. He knew how to live. He knew what was important in life. And He knew that we hadn’t the slightest clue what life was really about. He also had the right attitude and heart for a world such as ours. Instead of cussing us out for our idiocy and foolishness, Jesus, while nailed to a cross, asked for forgiveness on our behalf because He knew we couldn’t comprehend the wrongs we were doing. Jesus willingly suffered and died for our mistakes, for our sins, and ultimately, for our salvation.
From the very beginning, it was God’s purpose for us, His creations, to be good. Unfortunately, we have all fallen far from His grace. Some have fallen further than others, but there’s always hope for us all. We were not put on this planet to become celebrities or superstars in our own mind’s eye, nor was it our purpose to strive and compete to be better and have more than those around us. God never intended any of that for us. Just because we broadcast the “highlights” our life stories to our friends and neighbors, or the complete strangers on the World Wide Web, doesn’t add any validity to our lives or make us any more important than anyone else. On a similar note, just because our lives aren’t as sparkling as those seen on TV, doesn’t mean we’re valued any less. Appearances are just that – the way things appear on the outside. Oftentimes, it’s the things that are unseen that matter most. Our value is not measured by how popular we are or how many “friends” we have on Facebook, nor is it the amount of ‘bling’ we wear or how ‘pimped’ our ‘rides’ are. In the long run, building a “rep” and maintaining our status and image amongst our peers is petty and inconsequential. What matters most to God is not the size of your house, but the size of your heart. Each of us is precious to God. Each of us is a masterpiece-in-the-making, and He is trying to grow each of our smallish Grinch-sized hearts to three sizes greater.
You may not understand what He is doing in your life. You may not be able to feel His presence. You may not even believe in the Lord Almighty Himself, but start by believing this – you are not an accident. You are here – in this time and in this place – for a reason. It may not be apparent now. It may not be apparent twenty years from now. Because we have been given the freedom to decide things for ourselves, the choice to follow God’s plan is entirely ours. You can blaze your own trail and find your own definition for life, fulfillment, and happiness. But don’t be surprised to eventually find yourself wallowing in the pits of self-pity and despair or endlessly wandering through life, lost and alone. When appearances fade and superficial friends aren’t around when you need them, you may have to reopen that dictionary of yours and redefine your life once again. What will be your new passion in life? What will be the new “lord” over your life? It’s an endless cycle that is so sad and pointless, but it’s often what we must go through to find the optimal version of ourselves – from iteration to iteration, from struggle to struggle, from heartache to heartache – until we finally say “enough is enough” and cry out for our Father. How many roads must we walk before we all admit we’re lost? I’ve walked many a roads before, but they all led me back to the skinny man with the beard.
I cannot claim to know your life or your story, but take an honest look at your existence. Can you claim, with all certainty, that you know what’s best and understand what life’s really about? If you have your own set of “why’s” to life that you want answered, choose to wholeheartedly seek out Jesus. If you are still skeptical of Jesus’ “story” from the Bible, the annals of History can clearly show you that His existence was factual. Being a Christian is just simply understanding why He existed and allowing the Truth to affect you. If you allow the Truth into your heart, His Words and His Story will begin to speak to you and fill in the mysteries of your life. And as you allow your heart to be changed, you will gradually start to see how His delicate Hands have been carefully and caringly shaping you all this time.
As I continue to grow, He continues to stretch me and surprise me. I am still very much that meek and muted boy from before, but God wants much more from me and for me. I may not understand why, but I trust His judgment – for He knows what’s best for me. I can no longer hide in my office, behind a desk. I am a beacon of God’s light, hope, and love. I am God’s boldly drawn boy. I have a powerful and wondrous voice that I can use to be a writer, a speaker, a singer, an actor – everything or anything He wishes me to be – as long as I am willing to boldly walk with Him. I may still be a work-in-progress, but whatever my Maker has in store for me, I will abide and obey. I hope you will choose to do the same thing too because I can’t wait to see what He’s drawn up for your life as well.
If you were to ask me a few years ago the likelihood of me returning to school, let alone a Christian college, I wouldn't have had to give the question a moment's thought. I had no desire whatsoever to further my education. I had felt that that part of my life was thankfully over. For all intents and purposes I was done with school. I was done learning and ready for earning. The career I had chosen was to be my one and only – for better or for worse, I was a Civil Engineer. It was finally time for me to put all of those arduous years of education to practice. It was finally time to start my professional, adult life. But as I came to learn recently, life is never simple and you never, ever stop learning.
For as long as I can remember, I have considered myself a “good Christian”, even though I did not truly understand what that meant. When I was little, I did not argue with my parents when they told me we celebrated Christmas because Jesus was born, and I did not question them when they told me that Jesus died for us and was reborn at Easter time. Much like the many other queries little kids have, like why an uncovered yawn is as contagious as an uncovered cough, or why we eat soup when we get sick, or why we should refrain from sneezing when we eat saimin, the actual answers were too much for us to comprehend at the time and were best left to the rationale that our parents just knew what was best. I had no reason to not believe them; they loved me and wanted only the best for me. So when my parents told me that Jesus’ sacrifice was to free us from our sins and for that we must behave, for the most part, I didn’t whine or complain – I did what I was told. I didn’t really care too much to know why the skinny man with the beard wanted me to behave and who he was exactly – for as long as my parents loved me, the jolly, fat man gave me presents at Christmastime, and the bunny rabbit hid me colorful eggs to find during Easter, I was a happy, well-behaved little boy.
Thus, I grew up quiet and humble, loyal and obedient, not caring too much about the details concerning why I was doing the things I did, but knowing I was doing the right thing. I was studious and serious, reticent and reverent – the exact opposite of most little boys my age, but that observation would go overlooked by me until much later.
As I grew older, the frail veil of innocence began to wear thin. I started to see just how different I was from everyone else. I saw how others bended and broke the rules. I saw how others mistreated and misused their fellow man. I saw how others did whatever they needed to get what they wanted. And yet, I saw how these ‘others’ seemingly remained happy. My family continued to operate within the laws, respect others, and help and accommodate their family and friends unconditionally, while so many others did as they pleased, without any regard or respect for anyone else, and still they seemed to prosper. It was as if they somehow had it better than us and that things were so much easier for them, whilst my family struggled and was constantly being stepped on. I was no longer that happy little boy who didn’t whine or complain. I became frustrated and depressed, and I finally started asking ‘why?’.
But of course asking questions without seeking their answers wouldn’t solve any of my problems, but that’s what I did. Instead of looking to where I needed to fix my outlook and address the issues, I turned inward and looked downward. My life became breeding grounds for discontentment, self-pity, and loneliness. I had a slight inkling that the answer to my “why’s” lay with the skinny man with the beard, but it didn’t make any sense to me. Why did he go through the things that he did? Just what was he thinking? I tried half-heartedly to poke around at the Bible, but it just felt like an archaic collection of stories with lessons. My few appearances at different churches didn’t do much more to sway my mind either. Those churches just seemed like places where people pretended to be nice and holy for one day of the week. I saw that some of these so-called, self-proclaimed “Christians” behaved just as the ‘others’ did instead of being the beacons of light, hope, and love I thought they should have been. Thus, I remained in darkness and despair for several years to follow. However, despite my despondent attitude, I remained considerate and obedient, trying my best to do what was right while clinging to a small shred of hope that one day, someway and somehow, I would begin to understand and finally put my weary mind at ease.
Slowly but surely, over the past four, maybe five years, I noticed changes in my life – some small, others significant. I didn’t always notice them right away, but looking back I see just how much of a difference they made on my life. Some people and incidents broke me down, while others built me up, changing my heart and perspective and making me stronger in character as well as in faith. This could not be passed off as just some random happenstance. There was no doubt about it – this was God’s distinctive hand on my life. He started chipping away at my rough and callous exterior and removed the rather large chip that resided on my shoulder, and then built upon the foundation of humility and respect that He put in place long before. Subsequently, He started developing a voice where there once was silence.
This timid boy who previously had no opinion and nothing important to say, felt he finally had something he needed to tell people. As I began putting to paper my thoughts, my past, my present, the people around me – all became pieces of a puzzle that began to fit together, revealing more and more the masterpiece that God had painted of my life’s journey. I started to understand my “why’s”. I started to see that others were just as hurt, frustrated, and lost as I was and that they were just seeking fulfillment and happiness in terms that they understood. Although I didn’t have a complete grasp and understanding of my faith and I didn’t yet have the relationship with God that I wanted, I saw a faith, reasonable and rational, that made sense of the wild, wild world around me. I saw a better way, and I wanted others to see what I was beginning to see. Before long, my words came to life: my passions, my perspectives, my personality – all that He brought together inside of me – became relevant and relatable, so that I may try to reach out to others. Whimsical musings, thoughtful reflections, and a vivid vocabulary flowed from my heart. I never had an interest in writing before and though I did decently in my English classes while I was in school, I never really cared for most of them. In spite of that, as I became more and more passionate about what I had to say, I started growing more and more passionate as a writer.
So now, here I am... my story: uniquely my own. My faith: unlike anyone else’s. Some people’s faith ignites with just a few sparks. Mine required a little more time to develop. Molded and formed with a loving purpose, I showed some early signs of a humble servant, a man after God’s own heart. However, it was not until I started to mature and grow in the Lord that I began to understand the “why’s” of life and see what His plan for me entailed. Each step – critical to making me the man I am today. Each trial, each struggle, although so painful and trying, has given me more faith and strength to persevere. It could have only been God’s uncanny know-how, His impeccable timing, and His perfect blueprint that could have gotten me this far. A very specific, unalterable chain of events had to occur that would wear me out, break me down, and ultimately, get through that thick, nearly impenetrable skull of mine. I wouldn’t be standing here today if things happened any differently. It was the only way God could reach me – only under His meticulous regimen and close care could I have ever hoped to be cured of my melancholy mindset. Like a bone that has to be broken again to correctly heal, He had to fracture my life so that He could fix it properly. I had to hurt more before I could ever begin to heal. There had to be a breakdown before there was a breakthrough. I had to be lost in order to be found.
Your story may be different from mine, but maybe my perspectives could speak to you about your life. I know what it’s like to be lost. I know what it’s like to feel hurt. And I know how frustrating life can sometimes be. This world can be a very cold and lonely place and so much of the love and happiness that we hope for, strive for – that we count on to bring meaning or completeness to our lives – turns out to be fleeting or false. It is understandable that we feel disappointed or upset, but, in all actuality, the blame lies mostly with us. We have come to believe that the most important person in this world, or any other, is ourselves. Ever since that first forbidden fruit was picked, our egos have stifled the full potential God had hoped for our lives. With the rise of reality television, Twitter, and, yes, even Facebook, it has become apparent to me that we actually believe we are celebrities and superstars. We really do think that we are much wiser and in more control than we really are. But like when we were kids, we still lack the capacity to grasp the actual answers to the big questions in life. We have been given free will and the privilege to make our own choices, but like a child who has found his father’s gun, we do not realize how dangerous it can be in our hands. More often than not, we end up hurting ourselves or others. It’s always been best to defer to our parent’s judgment – for they know best. When I decided to defer to my Father – our Heavenly Father – I started to recognize the rationale and compassion of that skinny man with the beard that I heard about all those years ago. The answers I had been longing for all along lay with Jesus. He had the heart and understanding that could fix my dismal view of the world. And whatever your view of the world, I’m sure there’s at least a thing or two Jesus can still show you. He knew how to live. He knew what was important in life. And He knew that we hadn’t the slightest clue what life was really about. He also had the right attitude and heart for a world such as ours. Instead of cussing us out for our idiocy and foolishness, Jesus, while nailed to a cross, asked for forgiveness on our behalf because He knew we couldn’t comprehend the wrongs we were doing. Jesus willingly suffered and died for our mistakes, for our sins, and ultimately, for our salvation.
From the very beginning, it was God’s purpose for us, His creations, to be good. Unfortunately, we have all fallen far from His grace. Some have fallen further than others, but there’s always hope for us all. We were not put on this planet to become celebrities or superstars in our own mind’s eye, nor was it our purpose to strive and compete to be better and have more than those around us. God never intended any of that for us. Just because we broadcast the “highlights” our life stories to our friends and neighbors, or the complete strangers on the World Wide Web, doesn’t add any validity to our lives or make us any more important than anyone else. On a similar note, just because our lives aren’t as sparkling as those seen on TV, doesn’t mean we’re valued any less. Appearances are just that – the way things appear on the outside. Oftentimes, it’s the things that are unseen that matter most. Our value is not measured by how popular we are or how many “friends” we have on Facebook, nor is it the amount of ‘bling’ we wear or how ‘pimped’ our ‘rides’ are. In the long run, building a “rep” and maintaining our status and image amongst our peers is petty and inconsequential. What matters most to God is not the size of your house, but the size of your heart. Each of us is precious to God. Each of us is a masterpiece-in-the-making, and He is trying to grow each of our smallish Grinch-sized hearts to three sizes greater.
You may not understand what He is doing in your life. You may not be able to feel His presence. You may not even believe in the Lord Almighty Himself, but start by believing this – you are not an accident. You are here – in this time and in this place – for a reason. It may not be apparent now. It may not be apparent twenty years from now. Because we have been given the freedom to decide things for ourselves, the choice to follow God’s plan is entirely ours. You can blaze your own trail and find your own definition for life, fulfillment, and happiness. But don’t be surprised to eventually find yourself wallowing in the pits of self-pity and despair or endlessly wandering through life, lost and alone. When appearances fade and superficial friends aren’t around when you need them, you may have to reopen that dictionary of yours and redefine your life once again. What will be your new passion in life? What will be the new “lord” over your life? It’s an endless cycle that is so sad and pointless, but it’s often what we must go through to find the optimal version of ourselves – from iteration to iteration, from struggle to struggle, from heartache to heartache – until we finally say “enough is enough” and cry out for our Father. How many roads must we walk before we all admit we’re lost? I’ve walked many a roads before, but they all led me back to the skinny man with the beard.
I cannot claim to know your life or your story, but take an honest look at your existence. Can you claim, with all certainty, that you know what’s best and understand what life’s really about? If you have your own set of “why’s” to life that you want answered, choose to wholeheartedly seek out Jesus. If you are still skeptical of Jesus’ “story” from the Bible, the annals of History can clearly show you that His existence was factual. Being a Christian is just simply understanding why He existed and allowing the Truth to affect you. If you allow the Truth into your heart, His Words and His Story will begin to speak to you and fill in the mysteries of your life. And as you allow your heart to be changed, you will gradually start to see how His delicate Hands have been carefully and caringly shaping you all this time.
As I continue to grow, He continues to stretch me and surprise me. I am still very much that meek and muted boy from before, but God wants much more from me and for me. I may not understand why, but I trust His judgment – for He knows what’s best for me. I can no longer hide in my office, behind a desk. I am a beacon of God’s light, hope, and love. I am God’s boldly drawn boy. I have a powerful and wondrous voice that I can use to be a writer, a speaker, a singer, an actor – everything or anything He wishes me to be – as long as I am willing to boldly walk with Him. I may still be a work-in-progress, but whatever my Maker has in store for me, I will abide and obey. I hope you will choose to do the same thing too because I can’t wait to see what He’s drawn up for your life as well.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Since the Last Time I Fell
At the request of the Cheshire Cat, via Vox, I will be posting some of my old poetry. I'm not much of a poet – in fact, I only have a couple of them to share. Poetry doesn't come easily to me. So far, I've only found my inspirations in my times of depression. Here's hoping for happier thoughts in future poems...
Since the Last Time I Fell
Like most people,
I try not to fall.
I try to be careful,
Overly cautious at times.
I try to guard against it.
But it is inevitable.
We will fall.
We don't mean to fall, usually.
Sometimes we try to plan when we fall,
But planning when we fall
Is like planning who we fall for.
Or who will fall for us.
It just happens.
It happens quickly and without warning.
What's most important
Is what we do after we fall.
Do we pick ourselves up?
Do we learn from our mistakes?
Truth be told –
Falling actually feels good.
Spontaneous. Uncontrollable.
And for that brief moment,
We forget about everything else.
What hurts is when we reach the bottom.
That is why I am here.
I'll always be there with you
To catch you when you fall.
Since the Last Time I Fell
Like most people,
I try not to fall.
I try to be careful,
Overly cautious at times.
I try to guard against it.
But it is inevitable.
We will fall.
We don't mean to fall, usually.
Sometimes we try to plan when we fall,
But planning when we fall
Is like planning who we fall for.
Or who will fall for us.
It just happens.
It happens quickly and without warning.
What's most important
Is what we do after we fall.
Do we pick ourselves up?
Do we learn from our mistakes?
Truth be told –
Falling actually feels good.
Spontaneous. Uncontrollable.
And for that brief moment,
We forget about everything else.
What hurts is when we reach the bottom.
That is why I am here.
I'll always be there with you
To catch you when you fall.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Lament of a Love Lost
At the request of the Cheshire Cat, via Vox, I will be posting some of my old poetry. I'm not much of a poet – in fact, I only have a couple of them to share. Poetry doesn't come easily to me. So far, I've only found my inspirations in my times of depression. Here's hoping for happier thoughts in future poems...
Lament of a Love Lost
Love, not one of kin and obligation,
Nor one of fellowship and brotherhood,
But one birthed out of fondness and friendship.
One of affections and attractions.
Your thoughts confuse, your knees buckle,
Doubts and fears constantly run through your mind,
Yet you would not have it any other way…
Feeling your best and your worst in an instance.
Finding hope and happiness;
To feel truly inspired;
Finding something to believe in –
That is falling in love.
Something that I never expected,
Yet something that I've always wanted –
That is what I had found…
Momentarily.
Had she been looking,
Had she found me looking,
It would have made my life…
Perfect, fulfilled, complete.
Alas, a love hidden away,
Never to be found by the one it was meant for.
That's me, that's life, that's love…
Unrequited.
So life in her continues to grow and blossom,
As I continue to ponder life.
Am I meant for love? Am I meant for life…
Without love… without my oxygen?
Still unsure of that, yet sure of this:
I am grateful for my incomplete life,
And I thank God for this unrequited love.
This love, her face, the place we've met…
I'll never forget…
This feeling of almost being in love,
Her smile, her soul, and the song that spoke to me –
Etched indelibly in my heart…
"Had it been another day,
I might have looked the other way,
And I'd have never been aware…"
That would have been the tragedy.
For though one day, someday, I suppose,
I will find someone,
As it is tonight, at least I'll have that moment in my heart,
And her in my dreams.
Lament of a Love Lost
Love, not one of kin and obligation,
Nor one of fellowship and brotherhood,
But one birthed out of fondness and friendship.
One of affections and attractions.
Your thoughts confuse, your knees buckle,
Doubts and fears constantly run through your mind,
Yet you would not have it any other way…
Feeling your best and your worst in an instance.
Finding hope and happiness;
To feel truly inspired;
Finding something to believe in –
That is falling in love.
Something that I never expected,
Yet something that I've always wanted –
That is what I had found…
Momentarily.
Had she been looking,
Had she found me looking,
It would have made my life…
Perfect, fulfilled, complete.
Alas, a love hidden away,
Never to be found by the one it was meant for.
That's me, that's life, that's love…
Unrequited.
So life in her continues to grow and blossom,
As I continue to ponder life.
Am I meant for love? Am I meant for life…
Without love… without my oxygen?
Still unsure of that, yet sure of this:
I am grateful for my incomplete life,
And I thank God for this unrequited love.
This love, her face, the place we've met…
I'll never forget…
This feeling of almost being in love,
Her smile, her soul, and the song that spoke to me –
Etched indelibly in my heart…
"Had it been another day,
I might have looked the other way,
And I'd have never been aware…"
That would have been the tragedy.
For though one day, someday, I suppose,
I will find someone,
As it is tonight, at least I'll have that moment in my heart,
And her in my dreams.
Monday, March 8, 2010
The Ass In Me
If I were an animal what animal would I be? Well, I'd have to say that I'd likely be a donkey. But I would not be your typical burrow. I'd be gray and fluffy. I'd have pink ears, a black mane, and a long tail held on by a drawing pin. Plus I'd live in a rather gloomy and boggy place deep in the Hundred Acre Woods. Sure, I share the qualities of some of the other woodland inhabitants – the pig's timidity and anxiety, the rabbit's OCD, the tiger's need for Ritalin, and the bear's forgetfulness and insatiable appetite. However, it is the donkey named Eeyore that I am most akin to.
And if Eeyore were human, I'm sure he would be a Chinese boy, quiet and courteous, short in hope and in height, one that would keep to himself and would once in a while write about how he felt. Though he is not based on me (unless Milne had a time machine of sorts) and I definitely do not model my life after a fictionalized donkey, there seems to be an uncanny, unintentional semblance here. I understand how it feels to be going nowhere fast (or slowly) – stuck in one place, doing the same menial tasks everyday. I know what it's like to be part of a group, yet still feel like an outsider looking in, or just some insignificant, inconsequential, peripheral character to everyone else's own essentially essential life story. I empathize with him when it comes to feeling completely out of place, relating to no one around him, and being stuck with the constant feeling that nothing good will ever happen.
Of course if I had a choice, I would not choose to be a despondent donkey… but maybe a mystery-solving dog or a ninjitsu-trained turtle instead. I hate feeling like an ass all the time. I do not lead the perfect, storybook life but I feel I have a story worth telling.
Still, like the old, stubborn mule that has accompanied me for so very long, I cannot seem to escape this melancholy mindset. He has always felt like a familiar, forlorn friend who would frequently share with me in my sorrow. It was nice to know such that even though he wasn't real, if he were we would sympathize with each other's souls.
Yet, I must move on. The donkey named Eeyore and the boy named Ryan are destined for divergent paths. And depression is a rather unhealthy pastime alone. Of course I've known this for some time – it's just that after all this time, it's hard to know what to do. I have become far too complacent – so very comfortable being unhappy that happiness feels uncomfortable. But I feel the enduring effects of it affecting me. I feel weak; I feel tired. There is a weight and heaviness that I feel behind my eyes every time I close them. I feel my mind whirring and chugging unproductively like an old computer processor, worn and slowed from years of heavy use, abuse, and being filled with much superfluous junk. The words which used to flow from my fingertips, now clogged and just trickle here and there from time to time (this composition proved to be like pulling teeth, but like… from inside my brain). I need to do what Neo did. I need to take the red pill. I need to free my mind.
Yes, my mind – that which may very well be my second best asset (next to my heart… not the physical one, but the one where my compassion stems from) – is what I imagine is also mine own worst enemy. I'd imagine your mind might also be your own worst enemy as well. Though maybe not as morose as mine, I'm certainly sure that your thoughts often counteract the actions your heart may have made otherwise. Our minds turn us to greed and lust and hate, not our hearts.
Everyone wants to be happy and everyone has lists a mile long of things we think will make us happy. Everyday we wake up and spend the greater part of our day thinking and hoping and planning to make these dreams of ours come true. But what people do not realize is that just because we want them, it doesn't mean we need them to be happy.
Happiness is a matter of the heart, just as faith is. It is the investment of heart which shows the greatest returns. Why do you think we feel such great accomplishment and satisfaction when we see a labor of love come to fruition? Loving and lasting relationships prosper when two hearts beat in unison. Our hearts fill with right relationships, horizontally and vertically, and when our hearts are full, we are complete. And THAT is a matter of FACT.
Contrastingly, sex, power, drugs, and money may make you feel good (well, at least that's what I've been told) for a brief moment, but such are mere fleeting feelings. Without strong faith, family, and friendships, everything else is frivolous… like chasing the wind.
I found it interesting that the donkey, the pig, the rabbit, the tiger, and the bear (among the other animals) – all having really a severe set of mental and emotional issues – resided inside the mind of a little boy named Christopher Robin. And even though fears and anxieties and depression were all present, that little boy seemed unhindered by them. He took them and led them confidently through innumerable successful adventures. I think that this may tell us something about ourselves and about children. Maybe we need to forget about all the negative thoughts floating around in our heads and approach life more as a child would. Maybe we need to embrace the right relationships wholeheartedly, with no reservations whatsoever, just as a kid would embrace his/her mother and father. Maybe we need to take each other's hand and help each other through life's little adventures. And just maybe through the eyes of a child, hope will endure and everything will seem possible once again. And just maybe "with a little love and some tenderness, we'll walk upon the water; we'll rise above the mess. [And] with a little peace and some harmony, we'll take the world together; we'll take them by them hand." Yes, I have a hand for you, and I will run with you…
Sorry… I couldn't help but inject a little Hootie in there… I'm a little like family programming from the 80's: dorky, super corny, mildly entertaining, and I have a lesson to share with you at the very end. Did you understand the moral of our story, folks? Reread it if you missed it. As for myself, I understand that I have a long way to go: I need to upgrade the SPAM-filter in my brain so as to block all the downer thoughts that congest my central processor and get me so down all the time; I need to focus on the heart of life instead of my list of wants; and I need to approach faith and love without any reservations. Stop being an ass, take a deep, long look in your self and you will see that that's the only things in life that you will ever need.
And if Eeyore were human, I'm sure he would be a Chinese boy, quiet and courteous, short in hope and in height, one that would keep to himself and would once in a while write about how he felt. Though he is not based on me (unless Milne had a time machine of sorts) and I definitely do not model my life after a fictionalized donkey, there seems to be an uncanny, unintentional semblance here. I understand how it feels to be going nowhere fast (or slowly) – stuck in one place, doing the same menial tasks everyday. I know what it's like to be part of a group, yet still feel like an outsider looking in, or just some insignificant, inconsequential, peripheral character to everyone else's own essentially essential life story. I empathize with him when it comes to feeling completely out of place, relating to no one around him, and being stuck with the constant feeling that nothing good will ever happen.
Of course if I had a choice, I would not choose to be a despondent donkey… but maybe a mystery-solving dog or a ninjitsu-trained turtle instead. I hate feeling like an ass all the time. I do not lead the perfect, storybook life but I feel I have a story worth telling.
Still, like the old, stubborn mule that has accompanied me for so very long, I cannot seem to escape this melancholy mindset. He has always felt like a familiar, forlorn friend who would frequently share with me in my sorrow. It was nice to know such that even though he wasn't real, if he were we would sympathize with each other's souls.
Yet, I must move on. The donkey named Eeyore and the boy named Ryan are destined for divergent paths. And depression is a rather unhealthy pastime alone. Of course I've known this for some time – it's just that after all this time, it's hard to know what to do. I have become far too complacent – so very comfortable being unhappy that happiness feels uncomfortable. But I feel the enduring effects of it affecting me. I feel weak; I feel tired. There is a weight and heaviness that I feel behind my eyes every time I close them. I feel my mind whirring and chugging unproductively like an old computer processor, worn and slowed from years of heavy use, abuse, and being filled with much superfluous junk. The words which used to flow from my fingertips, now clogged and just trickle here and there from time to time (this composition proved to be like pulling teeth, but like… from inside my brain). I need to do what Neo did. I need to take the red pill. I need to free my mind.
Yes, my mind – that which may very well be my second best asset (next to my heart… not the physical one, but the one where my compassion stems from) – is what I imagine is also mine own worst enemy. I'd imagine your mind might also be your own worst enemy as well. Though maybe not as morose as mine, I'm certainly sure that your thoughts often counteract the actions your heart may have made otherwise. Our minds turn us to greed and lust and hate, not our hearts.
Everyone wants to be happy and everyone has lists a mile long of things we think will make us happy. Everyday we wake up and spend the greater part of our day thinking and hoping and planning to make these dreams of ours come true. But what people do not realize is that just because we want them, it doesn't mean we need them to be happy.
Happiness is a matter of the heart, just as faith is. It is the investment of heart which shows the greatest returns. Why do you think we feel such great accomplishment and satisfaction when we see a labor of love come to fruition? Loving and lasting relationships prosper when two hearts beat in unison. Our hearts fill with right relationships, horizontally and vertically, and when our hearts are full, we are complete. And THAT is a matter of FACT.
Contrastingly, sex, power, drugs, and money may make you feel good (well, at least that's what I've been told) for a brief moment, but such are mere fleeting feelings. Without strong faith, family, and friendships, everything else is frivolous… like chasing the wind.
I found it interesting that the donkey, the pig, the rabbit, the tiger, and the bear (among the other animals) – all having really a severe set of mental and emotional issues – resided inside the mind of a little boy named Christopher Robin. And even though fears and anxieties and depression were all present, that little boy seemed unhindered by them. He took them and led them confidently through innumerable successful adventures. I think that this may tell us something about ourselves and about children. Maybe we need to forget about all the negative thoughts floating around in our heads and approach life more as a child would. Maybe we need to embrace the right relationships wholeheartedly, with no reservations whatsoever, just as a kid would embrace his/her mother and father. Maybe we need to take each other's hand and help each other through life's little adventures. And just maybe through the eyes of a child, hope will endure and everything will seem possible once again. And just maybe "with a little love and some tenderness, we'll walk upon the water; we'll rise above the mess. [And] with a little peace and some harmony, we'll take the world together; we'll take them by them hand." Yes, I have a hand for you, and I will run with you…
Sorry… I couldn't help but inject a little Hootie in there… I'm a little like family programming from the 80's: dorky, super corny, mildly entertaining, and I have a lesson to share with you at the very end. Did you understand the moral of our story, folks? Reread it if you missed it. As for myself, I understand that I have a long way to go: I need to upgrade the SPAM-filter in my brain so as to block all the downer thoughts that congest my central processor and get me so down all the time; I need to focus on the heart of life instead of my list of wants; and I need to approach faith and love without any reservations. Stop being an ass, take a deep, long look in your self and you will see that that's the only things in life that you will ever need.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Little Wooden Boy
Almost the same parts as any ordinary boy –
I almost look like I fit in.
And yet –
I never feel like I ever do.
My Maker made me the best He could,
With care and love and the best of intentions.
He had a plan, saw a bright future for me,
But it seems a few pieces forgotten, misplaced,
In that involved, intricate process,
Has left something absent inside of me…
A real boy I am not.
As the days go by and years pass,
The frail veil of innocence wears thin,
And I see just how incredibly different I am –
Awkward in my movements, my actions, and my words;
Unable to truly be an authentic participant in real life;
Unable to be a part of something more, something special;
Unwanted, unneeded, unloved;
The inability to be normal.
Money, magic wands, miracles –
None of which can fix me…
No happily ever after in sight.
I look at this wondrous and beautiful world in front of me,
And I feel nothing –
Nothing but the loneliness and longing in my heart,
Or for me, the void where a heart would regularly reside.
The unending feeling
Of being forever lost,
Forever forlorn.
Under such circumstances,
It would be easy to wish that I were someone else but me.
It would be easy to feel sorry for myself.
It would be easy to just curse my Creator and Die…
But what good would that do me?
I do not hate my Father for who I am.
I do not wish to be someone else.
And despite all my defects,
Never would I wish to be something I am not.
Money, magic wands, miracles –
None of which I would want change me.
No shooting star do I need to wish upon.
For any fate different from this,
Would be the unnatural one.
I am who I am,
And I just know I have been formed
With something good in mind.
And if I am destined to wander this world lost and alone for all eternity,
Then let it be.
It would be my life that I had made the most of and mine alone…
And that would be enough for me.
This little wooden boy will not give up on this world so easily.
There is no question that life is hard,
But it won't let you down unless you let it.
I may be frail and fragile,
But my will and resolve are stronger than oak.
My tongue may not be sharp, nor is it quick,
But my actions will speak louder than words ever could.
My head may be empty and hollow,
But is all the more open to fresh ideas and perspectives.
I may be made of wood,
But my spirit is golden.
I may be different from everything else in this world,
But that won't stop me from making a difference on it.
I do not know if or how I will overcome all the storms and obstacles in life,
But, with my conscious as my guide and my Father by my side,
I know that everything will be well in the end.
I almost look like I fit in.
And yet –
I never feel like I ever do.
My Maker made me the best He could,
With care and love and the best of intentions.
He had a plan, saw a bright future for me,
But it seems a few pieces forgotten, misplaced,
In that involved, intricate process,
Has left something absent inside of me…
A real boy I am not.
As the days go by and years pass,
The frail veil of innocence wears thin,
And I see just how incredibly different I am –
Awkward in my movements, my actions, and my words;
Unable to truly be an authentic participant in real life;
Unable to be a part of something more, something special;
Unwanted, unneeded, unloved;
The inability to be normal.
Money, magic wands, miracles –
None of which can fix me…
No happily ever after in sight.
I look at this wondrous and beautiful world in front of me,
And I feel nothing –
Nothing but the loneliness and longing in my heart,
Or for me, the void where a heart would regularly reside.
The unending feeling
Of being forever lost,
Forever forlorn.
Under such circumstances,
It would be easy to wish that I were someone else but me.
It would be easy to feel sorry for myself.
It would be easy to just curse my Creator and Die…
But what good would that do me?
I do not hate my Father for who I am.
I do not wish to be someone else.
And despite all my defects,
Never would I wish to be something I am not.
Money, magic wands, miracles –
None of which I would want change me.
No shooting star do I need to wish upon.
For any fate different from this,
Would be the unnatural one.
I am who I am,
And I just know I have been formed
With something good in mind.
And if I am destined to wander this world lost and alone for all eternity,
Then let it be.
It would be my life that I had made the most of and mine alone…
And that would be enough for me.
This little wooden boy will not give up on this world so easily.
There is no question that life is hard,
But it won't let you down unless you let it.
I may be frail and fragile,
But my will and resolve are stronger than oak.
My tongue may not be sharp, nor is it quick,
But my actions will speak louder than words ever could.
My head may be empty and hollow,
But is all the more open to fresh ideas and perspectives.
I may be made of wood,
But my spirit is golden.
I may be different from everything else in this world,
But that won't stop me from making a difference on it.
I do not know if or how I will overcome all the storms and obstacles in life,
But, with my conscious as my guide and my Father by my side,
I know that everything will be well in the end.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Do The Write Thing
To quote Alicia Bridges, "I love nightlife. I love to boogie." However, there are the seven nights of the week when I'm usually not partying down, but I am at home, lying quietly, sleepless in my bed. The house has been still for hours now, and no one will interrupt me. This is the best time to unwind and release all the tension built up from the pressures and stresses of everyday life. I turn on my computer and put on some relaxing music to help set the mood and provide me with some stimulation. Though a nice pinot does help to get the "juices" flowing a bit, I do not often rely on it. I then open up a window of the Internet Explorer. Next, I go to a favorite site of mine that I frequent at such a time as this. Sometimes I just rely on the one that's already included, but I do find Merriam-Webster Online to be a better, more helpful resource. By now I think you can probably guess what I do next. Yes, I open Microsoft Word. That's right, I like to write. I write vigorously and as often as inspiration hits me. And I write like a man should write – no true form or structure, no outlining, no brainstorming, no iambic pentameters, and no well-placed rhyme schemes – just raw, unrefined heartfelt emotion.
I know that it may surprise you just how verbose I can be on paper, considering how I am in person. Don't worry, I surprise myself too. Quiet and reserved I am in conversation, but on paper, my words, my passion flows through me like wine in my glass on a Friday night. Yes, it is absolutely a true oddity – like the Lochness Monster or Bigfoot or evolution. But unlike the aforementioned, I am real and I can be explained. I have searched deep within myself for some kind of reasoning and have come to some conclusion concerning this Jekyll & Hyde complex of mine. The reasons I have found are as follows.
People who know me, even close friends and family, hardly ever see the inner workings of my mind… mostly because I am silent 90% of the time. Of that 10% of which I am voluble, 5% is when I'm alone, usually in the car singing loudly (yes, I probably am that weirdo behind you making strange faces and no, I am not mocking you or cursing you out). The remaining 5% is when I am around others, but still mostly consists of sounds of me being agreeable (i.e., "uh huh", "yes", "right", "ok", and "I understand"). Part of it is that I am a fairly private person; part of it is that I am open to other opinions and perspectives and rather hear what people have to say than hear myself. Another huge chunk of it is due to the fact that I conceivably suffer from some form of social anxiety disorder (or "s.a.d." for short). In social situations, I feel "s.a.d." and I have some trouble thinking clearly. I stumble while trying to find my words. This situation's been one that I've been working at overcoming for a long, long time with only little to show for all the effort so far. Well, I do think I was improving for a while, but started backsliding some after recent events… I am not going to stop trying, but in the meantime it's nice that I at least have my Microsoft Word…
Yes, akin to Matthew Murdoch's inability to see, I am unable to effectively express myself vocally. However, like Murdoch, whose other enhanced senses help him get around, my heightened writing abilities help me to communicate. Where talking and interacting with others is uncomfortable and cumbersome for me, writing feels right, it feels easy – easy like Sunday morning. It is a cathartic and invigorating experience for me. It helps me break past these mental barriers of mine and helps me express myself freely without initially worrying what other people think. And like Murdoch who uses his extraordinary abilities for good, I too strive to provide this world with something positive.
So this is why I write, and this is why I write the way that I do. I write to inform people. I write to entertain people. I write to encourage people. I write to inspire people. And although the drivel you are reading right now might not affect you, your world, or alter the course of this universe at all, I do hope to someday touch people with my words. I would love my words to mean something to someone – to move someone to action, to put a smile on a person's face, to just make life even the smallest bit better. Yes, it's hard to reach anyone when my voice is just one of billions like a grain of sand on a beach… and it's nearly impossible to be heard when blogging is like shouting in the middle of the ocean… and it is discouraging when all of the writings I have done in the past have been ignored and overlooked… and of course it's truly disheartening when I cannot even compel a friend to remain one or a loved one to even consider trying something different… But I'm going to keep writing because I do feel like I do have important things to say (at least some of the time, I think) and I can and will make a difference in someone's life in time.
Words… so important, yet always misused, abused, and taken for granted. Sometimes I do get a little too carried away with the process, but I remain true to my words. I will always say what I mean, and always mean what I say. Like Murdoch understood with his gift: "with great power, comes great responsibility (thanks to Uncle Ben for those words of wisdom)." Words of truth and guidance can provide direction and purpose in life. Words in the right context can entertain, make someone laugh, and brighten one's day. And just three small words can change the course of two lives forever. They can provide one with hope and inspiration, while the absence of words can cause confusion and disillusionment. A friend of mine recently reminded me, "Words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth." I believe my words, my passion for writing, to be a blessing and I plan to utilize it to the very best of my ability, even after if I ever overcome the whole "s.a.d." thing. What special abilities do you have? The ability to fly? To become invisible? How about the power to kill a yak from 200 yards away… with mind bullets (sorry, borrowed that one from the 'D')? How about the power… to move someone? The ability to be an outstanding role model? To be there for someone in need? Can you teach someone a special skill? Or be a true friend to someone who really needs one? We may not all be super (or superhuman like Matt Murdoch), but we still are blessed with amazing gifts/talents/opportunities and it is your decision whether to be a hero or a zero.
P.S. I wasn't always one who wrote like this. It started in college with the encouragement of one of the university's finest English professors and one emotionally-wrought writing assignment. Since then, my writing has never been the same. If you ever do attend the University of Hawaii at Manoa (and if he's still there), take a class from Professor Reinhard Friederich. I never really liked English or English class before. But all it took was one person who chose to be a hero. Need more inspiration? Meet a real Murdoch in Ben Underwood.
I know that it may surprise you just how verbose I can be on paper, considering how I am in person. Don't worry, I surprise myself too. Quiet and reserved I am in conversation, but on paper, my words, my passion flows through me like wine in my glass on a Friday night. Yes, it is absolutely a true oddity – like the Lochness Monster or Bigfoot or evolution. But unlike the aforementioned, I am real and I can be explained. I have searched deep within myself for some kind of reasoning and have come to some conclusion concerning this Jekyll & Hyde complex of mine. The reasons I have found are as follows.
People who know me, even close friends and family, hardly ever see the inner workings of my mind… mostly because I am silent 90% of the time. Of that 10% of which I am voluble, 5% is when I'm alone, usually in the car singing loudly (yes, I probably am that weirdo behind you making strange faces and no, I am not mocking you or cursing you out). The remaining 5% is when I am around others, but still mostly consists of sounds of me being agreeable (i.e., "uh huh", "yes", "right", "ok", and "I understand"). Part of it is that I am a fairly private person; part of it is that I am open to other opinions and perspectives and rather hear what people have to say than hear myself. Another huge chunk of it is due to the fact that I conceivably suffer from some form of social anxiety disorder (or "s.a.d." for short). In social situations, I feel "s.a.d." and I have some trouble thinking clearly. I stumble while trying to find my words. This situation's been one that I've been working at overcoming for a long, long time with only little to show for all the effort so far. Well, I do think I was improving for a while, but started backsliding some after recent events… I am not going to stop trying, but in the meantime it's nice that I at least have my Microsoft Word…
Yes, akin to Matthew Murdoch's inability to see, I am unable to effectively express myself vocally. However, like Murdoch, whose other enhanced senses help him get around, my heightened writing abilities help me to communicate. Where talking and interacting with others is uncomfortable and cumbersome for me, writing feels right, it feels easy – easy like Sunday morning. It is a cathartic and invigorating experience for me. It helps me break past these mental barriers of mine and helps me express myself freely without initially worrying what other people think. And like Murdoch who uses his extraordinary abilities for good, I too strive to provide this world with something positive.
So this is why I write, and this is why I write the way that I do. I write to inform people. I write to entertain people. I write to encourage people. I write to inspire people. And although the drivel you are reading right now might not affect you, your world, or alter the course of this universe at all, I do hope to someday touch people with my words. I would love my words to mean something to someone – to move someone to action, to put a smile on a person's face, to just make life even the smallest bit better. Yes, it's hard to reach anyone when my voice is just one of billions like a grain of sand on a beach… and it's nearly impossible to be heard when blogging is like shouting in the middle of the ocean… and it is discouraging when all of the writings I have done in the past have been ignored and overlooked… and of course it's truly disheartening when I cannot even compel a friend to remain one or a loved one to even consider trying something different… But I'm going to keep writing because I do feel like I do have important things to say (at least some of the time, I think) and I can and will make a difference in someone's life in time.
Words… so important, yet always misused, abused, and taken for granted. Sometimes I do get a little too carried away with the process, but I remain true to my words. I will always say what I mean, and always mean what I say. Like Murdoch understood with his gift: "with great power, comes great responsibility (thanks to Uncle Ben for those words of wisdom)." Words of truth and guidance can provide direction and purpose in life. Words in the right context can entertain, make someone laugh, and brighten one's day. And just three small words can change the course of two lives forever. They can provide one with hope and inspiration, while the absence of words can cause confusion and disillusionment. A friend of mine recently reminded me, "Words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth." I believe my words, my passion for writing, to be a blessing and I plan to utilize it to the very best of my ability, even after if I ever overcome the whole "s.a.d." thing. What special abilities do you have? The ability to fly? To become invisible? How about the power to kill a yak from 200 yards away… with mind bullets (sorry, borrowed that one from the 'D')? How about the power… to move someone? The ability to be an outstanding role model? To be there for someone in need? Can you teach someone a special skill? Or be a true friend to someone who really needs one? We may not all be super (or superhuman like Matt Murdoch), but we still are blessed with amazing gifts/talents/opportunities and it is your decision whether to be a hero or a zero.
P.S. I wasn't always one who wrote like this. It started in college with the encouragement of one of the university's finest English professors and one emotionally-wrought writing assignment. Since then, my writing has never been the same. If you ever do attend the University of Hawaii at Manoa (and if he's still there), take a class from Professor Reinhard Friederich. I never really liked English or English class before. But all it took was one person who chose to be a hero. Need more inspiration? Meet a real Murdoch in Ben Underwood.
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