I've grown used to being the light by which others find their way. I give advice based on my experience and what I have learned thus far. When, however, does this advice apply to me? At what point do I become my own beacon?
We pine. We pine for a brush of hands, for a secret embrace, for that feeling of elation when we know that there is another person who exists for you and through you. To know that your value is placed not on your tentative range of emotions but on your all-enveloped being. *Who* you are, rather than *what.*
Our quirks say very little about what notes are truly played inside of us. Are we a symphony or a helter-skelter melody being banged out on an out of tune piano? How sure are you? And, more importantly, who enjoys our euphonic being?
What drives us? Are we truly our actions or the intentions behind said actions? At best we are a device. A device used to carry out our intentions. We weigh both sides and then act accordingly. Which should reign supreme? The brain or the heart?
I'm typically an upbeat person. Lately though, I have been plagued with a baffling onset of self doubt. How unusual and how much it has shaken me.
Friday, November 21, 2008
The Humbled Critic
Friday night, the kid and I drove to Jonesboro to attend a family reunion of sorts Saturday morning in Missouri. My mom, grandmother, the kid, and I left at 9.
We stopped at a cemetary to visit the graves of my grandmother's uncle and a few others. She brought along flowers to lay on the ground in front of them. Morrigan asked why she was doing that and my grandmother replied, "To let them know they are loved." She then turned and began to say something to me. I turned around and Morrigan was getting more flowers out of the back of the car and placing them on every grave within sight. She would stop in front of them, read their name out loud and then she laid a flower down. We waited for 30 minutes while she did this. No one rushed her or even questioned what she was doing.
I realized at that moment how unyielding the compassion of a child is. She thought that every person there deserved to be loved and spent her time making sure of it. The idea of a cemetary didn't scare her. I wanted to cry. She understood what most of us ignore...a moment taken for someone, even a complete stanger, isn't a moment wasted.
We made it home from the reunion of "So you're Paul's granddaughter" at around 6.
That night, I went out and spent time with someone who means a great deal to me. The more time I spend with him, the more necessary he becomes to the quality of my life. I find myself looking at him and wondering what he will be like in 20 years. I have never actually entertained the idea of "tomorrow" with anyone. I know from the beginning that it will end, and end quickly but this time this rule doesn't apply. My family adores him, Morrigan holds his hand and begs him to play with her, and I feel as if, for once, I have found something I ignored the absence of. I enjoy the things about him that he doesn't notice, that most probably overlook. This saddens me but at the same time, fills me with elation that I do see these things, I enjoy them, and I love him.
We stopped at a cemetary to visit the graves of my grandmother's uncle and a few others. She brought along flowers to lay on the ground in front of them. Morrigan asked why she was doing that and my grandmother replied, "To let them know they are loved." She then turned and began to say something to me. I turned around and Morrigan was getting more flowers out of the back of the car and placing them on every grave within sight. She would stop in front of them, read their name out loud and then she laid a flower down. We waited for 30 minutes while she did this. No one rushed her or even questioned what she was doing.
I realized at that moment how unyielding the compassion of a child is. She thought that every person there deserved to be loved and spent her time making sure of it. The idea of a cemetary didn't scare her. I wanted to cry. She understood what most of us ignore...a moment taken for someone, even a complete stanger, isn't a moment wasted.
We made it home from the reunion of "So you're Paul's granddaughter" at around 6.
That night, I went out and spent time with someone who means a great deal to me. The more time I spend with him, the more necessary he becomes to the quality of my life. I find myself looking at him and wondering what he will be like in 20 years. I have never actually entertained the idea of "tomorrow" with anyone. I know from the beginning that it will end, and end quickly but this time this rule doesn't apply. My family adores him, Morrigan holds his hand and begs him to play with her, and I feel as if, for once, I have found something I ignored the absence of. I enjoy the things about him that he doesn't notice, that most probably overlook. This saddens me but at the same time, fills me with elation that I do see these things, I enjoy them, and I love him.
Former Midnight Musings
I was wrong apparently. About what? Well, about love. Recently I have found myself madly in love. Did I want something so profound to take hold of me? No, not really. Would I give it back? Never.
It has changed me completely. I forgo that overwhelming need to be right for the sake of us and his happiness. I can't be angry at him, he is divine. I no longer feel that want to fix someone, he is not broken. When I breathe, I feel him. When he's gone, my entire body aches. Everything I see somehow triggers a latent memory of him. It's intoxicating and exciting. Has love made me it's fool? Completely. What a happy fool I am!
I have felt false love many times. That title engulfs being in love with the idea of being in love. We're all guilty of it. I, above all, am a hardened criminal in the matter. Has time served me as well as I'd like? No, of course not. I have seen it as my enemy. The faceless entity that delights in tormenting me. He stops when I am in need of tomorrow and hurries when I want the moment. He slaps happiness from my hand and smothers me in resentment and regret. At long last, I have bettered him in his own game.
I regret nothing, resent no one, and wait...I wait to see what dwells in tomorrow. Has fortune finally smiled on me? Has Love seen me out of the corner of her eye and thought to herself, "That's enough."?
I beg you, dear audience, to not think that I have lived a life wholly void of love. This is untrue. I have had, for almost 6 years now, the love of a child. This sort of love in no way compares to any other. It is to have a light by which everything else is seen anew. She has held my heart and will continue to do so. The degree to which I adore her is beyond measure. I feel almost undeserving of it.
Now, however, I feel so much. I have in my life 2 people who are completely necessary to me and in being so have encased me in elation. Sometimes I feel as if I will die from loving too much. How uncanny.
Am I afraid? Of course. Is it worth it? Very much so...
It has changed me completely. I forgo that overwhelming need to be right for the sake of us and his happiness. I can't be angry at him, he is divine. I no longer feel that want to fix someone, he is not broken. When I breathe, I feel him. When he's gone, my entire body aches. Everything I see somehow triggers a latent memory of him. It's intoxicating and exciting. Has love made me it's fool? Completely. What a happy fool I am!
I have felt false love many times. That title engulfs being in love with the idea of being in love. We're all guilty of it. I, above all, am a hardened criminal in the matter. Has time served me as well as I'd like? No, of course not. I have seen it as my enemy. The faceless entity that delights in tormenting me. He stops when I am in need of tomorrow and hurries when I want the moment. He slaps happiness from my hand and smothers me in resentment and regret. At long last, I have bettered him in his own game.
I regret nothing, resent no one, and wait...I wait to see what dwells in tomorrow. Has fortune finally smiled on me? Has Love seen me out of the corner of her eye and thought to herself, "That's enough."?
I beg you, dear audience, to not think that I have lived a life wholly void of love. This is untrue. I have had, for almost 6 years now, the love of a child. This sort of love in no way compares to any other. It is to have a light by which everything else is seen anew. She has held my heart and will continue to do so. The degree to which I adore her is beyond measure. I feel almost undeserving of it.
Now, however, I feel so much. I have in my life 2 people who are completely necessary to me and in being so have encased me in elation. Sometimes I feel as if I will die from loving too much. How uncanny.
Am I afraid? Of course. Is it worth it? Very much so...
Morale? What?
I know that many of you are mourning the loss of my pseudo-daily blog ramble but, alas, I've been busy. I have recently noticed that with the loss of misery in my life, I have partially lost a muse. Pain was a very intimate friend of mine and we had grown accustomed to one another's company. Our daily tango quickly turned to inspiration and that being as it was... I wrote...frequently. My writing may have been the hate-filled diatribe of an unhinged social outcast but, nevertheless, there it was for you to sneer at. That being said, this is my long-time companion's obituary. You will not be mourned.
Now, let me not forgo the usual mention of the everyday things that irk me to the hilt. I'll list them in random order because, at times, one may piss me off more than the other. (It really depends on the day, to be honest about it.)
Nena's List of Personal Pet Peeves:
* People that drive the wrong direction in a parking lot.
(I had this happen to me recently and when the ass almost slammed into me, he had the audacity to flip ME off.)
*People that show up 30 minutes before a store opens.
(Just what in the hell do you need from anywhere at 8:30 am?)
*People who think that "yield" is more of a suggestion than a rule.
(Yes, I mean you. That sign is letting YOU know that the others cars will not stop for your ignorant ass.)
*People who think that they are the exception to every rule.
(What?!?! I have to wait like everyone else?!? Me?!?! That's absurd. Yes, you. You rank right below the person who came before you. Accept it.)[also: see above]
*People who give advice that they do not follow.
(The ever-famous "do as I say, not as I do" mindset. I will gauge your opinion or advice by how your life is going... so keep that in mind next time you give me parenting advice and both of your children are failures.)
*People who suffer from a severe case of extreme self entitlement.
(The world owes you nothing. Therefore, I *owe* you absolutely nothing. You are not doing me a favor by doing what you are SUPPOSED to do. If you're a mother, you are supposed to care for your children. The same holds true if you are a father. You don't babysit your own kids. Get over yourself. Honestly.)
*College students who attempt to play up the whole, "I'm a poor college student" thing.
(Yeah well, get a job. I have a job. You can get a job. You are preaching to the choir on that one, asshole.)
Now, let me not forgo the usual mention of the everyday things that irk me to the hilt. I'll list them in random order because, at times, one may piss me off more than the other. (It really depends on the day, to be honest about it.)
Nena's List of Personal Pet Peeves:
* People that drive the wrong direction in a parking lot.
(I had this happen to me recently and when the ass almost slammed into me, he had the audacity to flip ME off.)
*People that show up 30 minutes before a store opens.
(Just what in the hell do you need from anywhere at 8:30 am?)
*People who think that "yield" is more of a suggestion than a rule.
(Yes, I mean you. That sign is letting YOU know that the others cars will not stop for your ignorant ass.)
*People who think that they are the exception to every rule.
(What?!?! I have to wait like everyone else?!? Me?!?! That's absurd. Yes, you. You rank right below the person who came before you. Accept it.)[also: see above]
*People who give advice that they do not follow.
(The ever-famous "do as I say, not as I do" mindset. I will gauge your opinion or advice by how your life is going... so keep that in mind next time you give me parenting advice and both of your children are failures.)
*People who suffer from a severe case of extreme self entitlement.
(The world owes you nothing. Therefore, I *owe* you absolutely nothing. You are not doing me a favor by doing what you are SUPPOSED to do. If you're a mother, you are supposed to care for your children. The same holds true if you are a father. You don't babysit your own kids. Get over yourself. Honestly.)
*College students who attempt to play up the whole, "I'm a poor college student" thing.
(Yeah well, get a job. I have a job. You can get a job. You are preaching to the choir on that one, asshole.)
August the Fourth in Retrospect
Morrigan's sixth birthday. It's hard to believe that this creature has been in my life for six years, then again, it's even more difficult to imagine my life before she was here everyday to dust my moments with tantrums, songs, and musings that only a child can entertain. I've had the opportunity to watch her shed the skin of a toddler then into the garments of a beautiful lady. That clothing may be a tad loose now but soon it will hang perfectly.
I spend most of my time curious as to how many famed authors, poets, and philosophers may view things now. Luckily, I have one person in my circle that embodies the best aspects of all three. Morrigan can weave a wonderful tale from simple, everyday things and tell it with enthusiasm that is contagious. She fills the air in our home with sweet, high-noted sonnets about love and friendship. My favorite, by far, of her abilities is how in-tune she is with humanity. She picks up very subtle things which would be meaningless to most. She knows what to say to make you rethink your situation and does so with a very deciding air about her.
I love her and feel honored to have a hand in her creation.
I'll end this with a quote from my favorite thinker:
"Don't worry, he loves you. Anyone who makes you that happy must love you."
-Morrigan
I spend most of my time curious as to how many famed authors, poets, and philosophers may view things now. Luckily, I have one person in my circle that embodies the best aspects of all three. Morrigan can weave a wonderful tale from simple, everyday things and tell it with enthusiasm that is contagious. She fills the air in our home with sweet, high-noted sonnets about love and friendship. My favorite, by far, of her abilities is how in-tune she is with humanity. She picks up very subtle things which would be meaningless to most. She knows what to say to make you rethink your situation and does so with a very deciding air about her.
I love her and feel honored to have a hand in her creation.
I'll end this with a quote from my favorite thinker:
"Don't worry, he loves you. Anyone who makes you that happy must love you."
-Morrigan
Politicians with Spunk
I was recently reading something about the bombing of a church in Alabama where four young black girls were killed and I came across a letter written in response to hate mail from the KKK to Attorney General Bill Baxley of Alabama after he re-opened the investigation years later. The Ku Klux Klan, in the letter, called him an "honorary nigger", compared him to JFK and wished him dead.
Baxley's response, on official state letterhead, contained only:
"My response to your letter of February 19, 1976, is - kiss my ass.
Sincerely,
Bill Baxley,
Attorney General"
Now, that is spunk. I respect spunk.
Baxley's response, on official state letterhead, contained only:
"My response to your letter of February 19, 1976, is - kiss my ass.
Sincerely,
Bill Baxley,
Attorney General"
Now, that is spunk. I respect spunk.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Scratched Lacquer Haze
Yesterday the collective voice of America was heard. We, as an entirety, yearned for something that resembled little more than a forgotten fancy. A memory it will no longer be, but a reality.
Most of those who I have talked to about the election always mention the two terms that Bill Clinton occupied the White House. They reflect on it as if it was a golden time in their lives. A time before a war, before the country fell victim to the most vicious tyrant of all; fear. This fear was evident in the onslaught of negative media surrounding Obama. Instead of embracing the possibility of a new face, fresh ideas, and a drive that goes unmatched; some shrank in horror at the mention of his heritage. Those that relinquished their reason to baseless assumptions committed the worst crime of all.
America has never been any one race or religion. From her birth, she has been a diverse collective of those who fled from persecution because of their religion. Yet, in spite of this truth, some were prepared and willing to throw down a label that, at best, described little more than what he was born into. The title "Muslim" has had a negative association with the American public since those devastating events that took place on 9-11. Out of fear, most have suspended truth for temporary relief in ignorance.
We, as a whole, cannot fall victim to this ignorance. Those individuals who are responsible for multitudes of horrid and inhumane acts do not represent the entirety of the Islamic community. This same rule applies to zealots from any faction of life. The Caucasian bigots who throw nooses around the limbs of trees or set blaze to a cross do not represent the white population, nor do they express a sentiment shared by Caucasians across America. In all reality, this blind hatred is shared by very few and the number decreases daily.
Race or any other factor that one is born with or in should not have a blinding effect on what should really matter. Socrates said that when confronted with death "a man who is good for anything ought not to calculate the chance of living or dying; he ought only to consider whether in doing anything he is doing right or wrong, acting the part of a good man or of a bad." These concerns should be all that plagues us. Questions that should occupy our thoughts shouldn't be "Who does he know?" but "What kind of person is he?” The answer to that, only time will unfold.
I am grateful to have participated in a pivotal event in our history and more proud still am I of the outcome. I believe that he will reunite our country as a whole. Not under the pretense of religion, sex, race, or gender, but as a nation in need of the gadfly. A nation prepared to push its way out of the depths of the belly of the beast and back into celebration of the diverse patching of the American quilt. We are a country unlike any other and we should embrace the reality that the power to move, mold, and change this country rests solely in the hands of the individuals who occupy it. Finally, from the fire of fear springs forth the anointed bird of possibility.
Most of those who I have talked to about the election always mention the two terms that Bill Clinton occupied the White House. They reflect on it as if it was a golden time in their lives. A time before a war, before the country fell victim to the most vicious tyrant of all; fear. This fear was evident in the onslaught of negative media surrounding Obama. Instead of embracing the possibility of a new face, fresh ideas, and a drive that goes unmatched; some shrank in horror at the mention of his heritage. Those that relinquished their reason to baseless assumptions committed the worst crime of all.
America has never been any one race or religion. From her birth, she has been a diverse collective of those who fled from persecution because of their religion. Yet, in spite of this truth, some were prepared and willing to throw down a label that, at best, described little more than what he was born into. The title "Muslim" has had a negative association with the American public since those devastating events that took place on 9-11. Out of fear, most have suspended truth for temporary relief in ignorance.
We, as a whole, cannot fall victim to this ignorance. Those individuals who are responsible for multitudes of horrid and inhumane acts do not represent the entirety of the Islamic community. This same rule applies to zealots from any faction of life. The Caucasian bigots who throw nooses around the limbs of trees or set blaze to a cross do not represent the white population, nor do they express a sentiment shared by Caucasians across America. In all reality, this blind hatred is shared by very few and the number decreases daily.
Race or any other factor that one is born with or in should not have a blinding effect on what should really matter. Socrates said that when confronted with death "a man who is good for anything ought not to calculate the chance of living or dying; he ought only to consider whether in doing anything he is doing right or wrong, acting the part of a good man or of a bad." These concerns should be all that plagues us. Questions that should occupy our thoughts shouldn't be "Who does he know?" but "What kind of person is he?” The answer to that, only time will unfold.
I am grateful to have participated in a pivotal event in our history and more proud still am I of the outcome. I believe that he will reunite our country as a whole. Not under the pretense of religion, sex, race, or gender, but as a nation in need of the gadfly. A nation prepared to push its way out of the depths of the belly of the beast and back into celebration of the diverse patching of the American quilt. We are a country unlike any other and we should embrace the reality that the power to move, mold, and change this country rests solely in the hands of the individuals who occupy it. Finally, from the fire of fear springs forth the anointed bird of possibility.
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