Getting Started

That's the hardest part. But I did. We'll see what happens from here.

Whaddya Want?

I long for a simpler time, when I knew what I wanted and how I felt. When my plans and ambitions were solid, concrete. When what I felt was strong and stable. When options didn't exist beyond two or three. When the future was one road, not thousands. When I got excited, had crushes, felt sad, got angry. When bitterness wasn't something to hold onto for emotions' sake. When specialization was only a word to spell. When all scientists did the same thing. When everything was obvious. When this was right and that was not.

Things are complex now. I can't even figure out what it is I aspire to be. Or whether I want to be with someone, much less who that is. The people in the game of LIFE have it easy - the spin of the wheel determines everything. It's tough when you get to pick the card. "What do you want?" they say. But I don't have an answer. And I refuse to let the major decisions of my life be things that you just do - there's got to be something deeper. If love is just a choice, I want no part in it. I want a vocation that I'm made for, not one I settle into. Where's fate to tell me what to do?

I play my music on shuffle. I use Pandora. Which is closest? What haven't I tried? What makes sense?

I need passion. I need to know what I want.

Hugs (are not as good as Kisses. Quite frankly, they suck. Because--let's face it--white chocolate is nasty with a capital N)

It didn't hit me until later the next day, but the other night I had a dream in which I got a giant bear hug form Ryan Davis. Ryan passed away, as you probably know, but I always looked up to him, even though I barely knew him. Anyway, the hug was one of those one-sided hugs that you rarely get anymore; it was completely overpowering. He picked me up, and I was helpless to do anything but hold on as he swung me back and forth.

That's the type of hug a kid gets, when you're embraced by someone so much bigger than you - you are really only receiving the hug. You get overwhelmed. In that moment, you know that person could take care of all your problems (and maybe even the problems of the entire world). And why would you think differently? You're just a child.

It seems like hugs like that don't happen anymore. They're always mutual and maintain a sense of independence. "I choose to display my affection and friendship to you, but I can handle my own problems, thank you very much."

I think there's something inside me that wants the former hug once in a while. To drop the whole independence shtick and completely depend on someone else. Someone I know will handle everything with my best interest in mind.

I guess I want my relationship with God to be like that. At least, that's what it should be like. I want a "Ryan Davis hug" faith. It's comforting and inspiring. And all I have to do is hold on,

Bittersweet (But Not Sweet At All)

I generally am not the type of person to hold a grudge. But when I feel someone has wronged me in a particular area of life, I pick up that habit easily. That wrong injects venom into my opinion of that person until I'm flowing with bitterness. But I'm not overt about it. Everything seems fine, but I make remarks in a way I wouldn't normally, usually by slighting the person in a rather snarky manner. My bitterness becomes an infection that eats me from the inside out.

The only thing that rids me of that bitterness is confrontation. In order to repair such a relationship, I have to express to the person exactly how their actions/words made me feel (not an easy task for me, since I don't really have much experience in that realm). Only then can the venom be removed, although the relationship is never quite the same again.

"Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body. In your anger do not sin: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold." Ephesians 4:25-27

I've watched the sun set too many times.

Defiant One

In Honors the other day, we discussed Montaigne and his opinion that the essay was the superior form of writing, when compared with the treatise. This led to dialogue about how research can often lead to a lack of original thought. Stevens mentioned that, even now, our idea of an essay is skewed. Rather than an exploration of the mind, it has become a gatherer of facts determined for others. Stevens proposed that we revive the essay, and I am in complete agreement.

For me, the essay represents something more than just a form of writing. It is one facet of original thought. Pondering, questioning, venturing--these things are no longer viewed in a positive light. In the essay, one speaks out of the gut. He materializes his thoughts, regardless of what others may think. In these days, group think suffocates originality and anything that threatens the status quo. And I believe that is an extreme injustice.

I watched Dead Poets Society last night, and that seemed to fit this theme. If you have seen the film, you understand what I mean. Robin Williams questions the conventionality of the time and place, particularly in the "marching scene." He illustrates that conformity often beckons us with a powerful and demanding voice. We follow others like mindless lemmings. Later in the movie, one character's inability to think in new ways leads to tragedy, and it leaves you thinking, "Why couldn't he just get over his way of thinking?"

This is why I appreciate Rob Bell, though I have yet to read his writing. From what I have heard, he uses questions to help people think in new ways. As Stevens said, Love Wins could be considered an essay. But what has been accepted as fact may or may not be correct.

When people shun the exploration of ideas, they chance eliminating a brilliant new truth. Galileo faced the same, as did many other conceptual pilgrims. The world is flat. The earth is center. The arts are inferior. These are the voices that have had commanding presence. But they erred and err.

I said recently that one word I could use to describe myself is opaque. Another would be defiant. Not in defiance of rules and structure that make things whole, but against those things which hold captive ideas, beliefs, and people that could otherwise have a healing touch on the world, if only ideologically. It's arrogant to assume that I know what is completely just and fair, but you have to act if something is wrong, right?

All I'm saying is that we need original and open-minded thought. Without it, we make no progress.

The Fifth Corner

In my mind, things to which loyalty can be given are separated into four corners of likability. The first corner belongs to those things to which I am apathetic or neutral. I don't really care how the Atlanta Braves do this year. The second corner belongs to those things with flaws that are invisible to me. I don't see the downside of penguins, so I think they're pretty cool. (See what I did there?) The third corner belongs to those things which I like, and I refuse to see the downside. This is blind loyalty. I refuse to acknowledge that chili dogs are terrible for you. The fourth corner belongs to those things which I dislike or hate because of their flaws. I hate the Steelers because they are an unpleasant, dirty team. I see their flaws and recoil in disgust. The fifth corner, however, belongs to those things that have flaws of which I am completely aware, yet love and follow despite and even because of them. I see many of the problems with Cornerstone, but I am still loyal to it because it is my school.

The same can be said of people; they fall, for me, into the same five categories. (Although, few fall into the third category.) My opinions and relationships of and with them are similar to these five. But there's something rare and beautiful about that fifth category. It's unconditional love, something to which we Christians are called. Not blind love, but aware and forgiving.

I have experienced this to an extent in many relationships/friendships. It is mainly seen in my family. Despite what they do, I still love them. But their quirks still irk me. (I just did another thing.) There's only one person I have ever known with which I completely have this type of friendship. I am able to love them (not in a romantic way, mind you) for who they are, despite and even because of their flaws. I am very aware of the things that others might find distasteful, and neither do I think these attributes are good. But I can look at this person and see them as a whole, appreciating even the flaws. It baffles me. I want to understand exactly how it works and try to apply it to all my other relationships.

The Last 10%

If I had to describe myself in one word, it would be "opaque."

By "opaque," I mean non-transparent, although some of its other uses might apply. I'm not a very transparent person. I may be vocal about my opinions and ideas for the most part, but when it comes to how I feel, not much escapes my filter.

I visited Frontline Community Church for the first time today. (I have an idea I'll visit again.) Before the sermon, there was a short clip about wearing masks for various reasons, utilizing the iPad in a clever if unoriginal manner. I was relevant because the pastor spoke about lying, and specifically why we lie. He said that sociologists have determined that we lie for basically one reason: to avoid pain. The pastor preceded to list the various forms of pain that we try to avoid by lying.

Pain of consequences, pain of embarrassment, and pain of two words that are currently blank spaces on that handy little handout. (See what I did there?) But what really hit me was the end, when he mentioned "the last 10%." He described it as being the little bit of truth about your life that you leave out. The last bit to make 100%. Then he asked three questions. "To whom are you telling the last 10%? When? Who are you letting tell you about their last 10%?" And that was when I realized: I have no answer for the first two questions. There is nobody with whom I share this, for various psychological and irrational reasons. I just don't. And that's a problem.

So where to go from here? I'm not sure. But I know that I at least need to become translucent, if not transparent.