We are the people that help others.
We help you.
We provide you counsel.
We minister to you.
We serve you food when you would otherwise go hungry.
We give you advice.
We are the ones that you come to when you have questions, need guidance, wisdom, or encouragement.
We are strong for you, and even when we don't have all the answers, we always manage to find an answer of some sort.
We speak of having gone through the same afflictions.
We speak of having endured.
And while this is true, the moment we are finished having endured, we are back to being those that fix,
back to being strong for those that need us, that need our wisdom, gleaned from our experience, to lead and encourage them through their struggles.
We are strong, so we tell ourselves.
We are strong for those that need us, we whisper to ourselves.
And yet, we rarely allow someone else to see us in our weaknesses.
We rarely allow someone else to be strong for us.
We are supposed to be the strength and to have all the answers, (so we tell ourselves),
and to encounter our own weakness is crippling, embarrassing, and shameful to us.
For we are the healers, the helpers, the wise.
We are the strong, the encouraging, the counselors.
We are here for you, and deem ourselves selfish for needing another.
Yet, you are the strength, you that have leaned on us. Yes, we have been strong for you and helped you through difficult times, but you are the ones who have been brave enough to invite someone into your struggle. You have been you, transparent and raw, open to being seen, honest about your humanity, and ever so beautiful because of it. You have struggled and wept openly, and not attempted to be greater than you need to be in the moment. You have been humbled and softened, wise to the fact that we all fall and stumble, that we all have needs and weaknesses. You are wise to the fact that we are better in community than on our own, especially when it comes to trials and difficulties.
So thank you, for the strength you demonstrate.
Thank you for being strong for us, in a way that teaches us, and allows our hearts more able to experience community, and intimacy with others.
Thank you for teaching us what it means to be strong, to be humble, and to be human.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
The Walk
"Desperate for more of his company," Charles Foster in The Sacred Journey described those who followed Jesus.
Not perfect.
Not seminarians.
Not financial leaders.
But those who couldn't seem to do anything but take a walk with him, see where he went, what he would do, and what he had to say about things.
My family has a dog I would describe the same way, except I might use words like 'clingy' and 'obnoxious.' Optimus, short for Optimus Prime, our two year old personal-space-invading puppy, has an affinity for leaning up against you, in a way that means he simply wants to be in your presence. It makes no difference to him whether you're standing and prepared for it, or walking and therefore inclined to stumble. No matter where you're going, he aims to get right in front of you, be noticed, and feel close to you.
Jesus said "Follow me," and oddly enough, people did. They got up, left their posts, sometimes leaving family, occupations, and other 'societal obligations' behind in order to take a walk.
I live in a sociological context where walking seems rather impractical. Public transportation is sparse, industry is reachable only by vehicle, and exercise is about running. I'm not in college anymore where one can often walk to class, nor do I live in the heart of downtown where everything I need is within a mile radius. Here, it is not often that one simply goes for a walk, and in a society motivated by production and efficiency, to do most anything, the belief is that there need to be a purpose, a goal in mind, and something being achieved. To set out on a walk one might find questions from within demanding to know, 'Where are you headed and why,' 'How can you get there with the most alacrity,' and 'Is there a way to cut the time in half and save twice the amount of energy.' Such is the context in which I find myself these days.
I wonder what it is exactly that we can learn from walking. Why is it important? Why was that the entry point for those who became his disciples: No formal education, no prestigious credentials, but an invitation to walk?
So with these questions in mind the other night, I set out for a walk, with Optimus by my side. Like I said, he is one who is always anxious for company, whether you are walking down the street or simply headed to your car, and reminds me of the way the disciples seem to have been unable to help themselves when they got up and followed Jesus.
Our walk began about a quarter til 9, plenty of time for the sun to have made its descent and the moon to be firmly planted in the corner of the sky. Where we live the stars are visible and often radiant, and down our dirt road the presence of streetlights are sparse, so off we trekked, down my dusty road, headed into familiar but currently indistinguishable territory.
The first thing I always notice when treading in the dark is the extent to which other senses are heightened when your sense of sight is diminished or even inaccessible. I noticed an unfamiliar smell, reminiscent of mint. I was more attuned to the choir of crickets, and rustling in the trees or brush. I could taste the cooler Autumn air, and the added freshness it brings as a foil to the humidity of the retreating Texas summer. I felt the gravel shifting beneath my shoes as I advanced this familiar terrain. An oncoming car approaching from the rear was sensed much sooner than usual, due to the glimmering headlights against the thick, aphotic night.
Riley, one of our other dogs, came with us this night, as she often does. Riley stays right next to me most of the time when we are out walking or running. She and I have spent more time together; for her entire first year she lived in an apartment with me. She is well-trained, docile, and obeys promptly. Therefore, I never put her on a leash. Optimus doesn't opt for the leash either. In fact, I cannot say with any certainty that our family even has a working leash available. So, during a walk, or a run, Riley keeps my pace, while Optimus, on the other hand, refuses to stay close. He'll only approach if he becomes jealous of the attention given to Riley, and even then, he keeps his distance until we return home. At home, he wants to be near, to be touched, to give and receive affection, and to always be connected, but on a walk, he keeps his distance, he loves to wander, and he refuses to get within arms reach for more than a moment, lest we grab him.
Our dusty road has one rather sharp turn, and on that corner live multiple dogs at one residence. They are secured by a wooden fence, but every time I walk past, the residence seems to have acquired a new canine, and every time Optimus joins me for a walk, there is an inevitable barking session. I usually run this route we're on this night, no matter the hour. Optimus and Riley always tag along for my runs, and my faster pace keeps their barking and incessant chatter with other dogs at bay. However, I knew that today, my tempered gait, the chatter between all parties would be augmented, and lengthened.
Despite the ruckus caused by Optimus chattering with the other dogs, I committed to the walk. The point was to learn what it meant to follow Jesus, and what was the importance of walking. But as we ambled past the crowded canine corner, I wondered if there were similarities to the way God walks with us, or the way Jesus and the disciples walked together. Do we often stay close by, the longer we've been walking together, like Riley with me? Do we often get distracted and caught up in things, and fail to heed instructions, as Optimus does? Do we race ahead, ambling about? Do we follow closely at the heels? Do the disciples resemble my beloved canines in behavior, sometimes staying ever so close, and other times straying off directionless, simply making sure they never get too far away from the one with whom they're walking? Optimus does check back in, after all, and he does follow the path I walk, even if he runs far ahead, or falls behind upon finding a distraction or point of interest.
Optimus knows one command, and that's how to sit. But he has to be paying attention to perform, and he only knows what to do if you not only tell him to sit, but accompany it with a snap of the fingers. However, on this night of walking, I realized that if I snapped while we were in motion, that Optimus actually listened, a bit. Upon hearing it, even amidst all the noise, he removed some distance from me, ever so slightly, and even gave a second thought to whether he would run off and stir up trouble with another canine.
It's a start.
Soon we had passed the canine corner, and we were on a new street, one that consists of pavement instead of gravel, adorned with two streetlights instead of the lone one on the previous street. The dark of night remained heavy though, and while the eve is peaceful, the unknown teems with possibility. And as anyone experienced in walking or sauntering could tell you, Adventure, even the smallest kind, is sure to find you on a walk.
I didn't realize what Optimus was doing at first; I simply heard rustling in the brush to the right of the pavement, and snapped my fingers in an attempt to get Optimus back on course. In the dark I saw the medium-build silhouette of my beloved mutt, whipping his face back and forth vigorously. Suddenly, it occurred to me that the rustling in the brush had been much faster tempo than that of Optimus rustling, and I realized this familiar silhouette was attempting to kill another other creature it had found. A smaller, unfamiliar silhouette was in his grips. I kept walking, suddenly aware that the dark isn't as empty and void as I previously thought, and I was uninterested in making any new friends on this night, of any kind. Soon Optimus caught up to Riley and me, and to my surprise, his mouth was empty. He had not taken any prisoners, or trophies. What then, did he find?
There's a flashlight application on my phone, and I had indeed brought it with me. But I did not need it. My olfactories, despite their recent bout with allergies, did not let me down: soon I knew that Optimus' new friend and latest victim (yes, I do feel as though I indeed was privy and audience to a murder this night) was a skunk.
At first, it smelled that distant scent - the most common aroma of skunk I have encountered. It's an echo, if you will, the kind that tells you that a skunk was nearby, or that it has recently sprayed someone, or something. It smells putrid, but it is not fresh, it is not developing in the present moment, and it does not hold the same ability to permeate within the nostrils as the scent that soon came after this incident, when Optimus came near.
This was skunk stench as I had never known it, and it was happening all around me. As if someone had brought rotting onions and allowed them to decompose in my throat, even breathing seemed unnatural as the smell seemed to emanate from within. As my allergies flared up, even sneezing seemed undesirable; that would have required an inhaling in order to release all the pressure and tickling effects.
Not only had I been present for a life vehemently ended, but I was to walk in the olfactory reminder for the remainder of our jaunt. Breathing, a typically involuntary process, suddenly took effort and concentration. Meanwhile, Optimus proceeded to roll around and scrape against the brush and trees as we continued walking, obviously as anxious to retreat from the smell as we were. He continued this attempt at cleansing behavior all the way home, including a dip in the neighbors pond.
And as we made our way home, I thought about how we get into messes.
I thought about how we want to be clean.
I thought about how sometimes it feels like the smell of our regrets, or shame, or inadequacies, or mistakes will never ever leave us.
And I thought about how the walk continues, despite the smell, the blisters, or the mishap.
I returned home to a posture of stillness, for the moment having finished walking, at least literally. To be honest, I'm not exactly sure what Jesus meant by wanting to take a walk, or for us to walk with him.
Although, I do know that by walking, you physically leave something behind.
You head in a new direction.
Maybe sometimes something needs to be left behind.
Or, maybe something needs to be found.
Often, in walking, you discover something new, perhaps literally, as Optimus did. Or perhaps more philosophically, as I always hope to when I take a walk.
I am certain that the road, the journey, the process of walking always has something it can teach us.
And not only that, but by walking you engage in an activity that is so crucial to the human spirit, as noticed and illuminated by voices such as Jesus, Thoreau, G.K. Chesterton, and more. Any pilgrim, tramp, traveler, or vagabond can tell you the beauty and benefit of a good walk.
I do know that by walking with someone, you learn a little bit more about them.
You encounter things along the way, and you learn how they respond.
You see their reactions.
You notice what they make important.
What do they take with them?
What do they leave behind?
Who and what do they notice?
What do they take the time to stop for?
What do they walk past?
How close to the path do they stay?
Do they stray from it, and pave their own way, or do they refuse to explore the uncharted territories?
When they encounter danger, mishap, folly, frustration, or a setback - how do they handle things?
What does it look like when they're tired, and what do they do to recharge?
Do they walk as if they own the place, and it is created to serve them?
Or do they walk in a way that respects the ground they approach and encounter, in a way that treads lightly as a visitor, rather than a sense of entitlement?
Meanwhile, Optimus still has a putrid scent to his coat, and there is one less skunk in the world.
But perhaps by walking, the two of us learned a little bit more about each other, and about ourselves.
Jesus once said that if someone asks you to walk a mile with them, go with him two. I once heard it said that this was because in walking with someone you could learn more about them, what they're about, and perhaps after two miles, a former enemy will have been made a neighbor, or even a friend.
I have no idea what walking will teach you. But I can say it has always taught me something, and for many a great mind, it seems to be some of the greatest advice and one of the best blessings that a person could receive and experience.
Not perfect.
Not seminarians.
Not financial leaders.
But those who couldn't seem to do anything but take a walk with him, see where he went, what he would do, and what he had to say about things.
My family has a dog I would describe the same way, except I might use words like 'clingy' and 'obnoxious.' Optimus, short for Optimus Prime, our two year old personal-space-invading puppy, has an affinity for leaning up against you, in a way that means he simply wants to be in your presence. It makes no difference to him whether you're standing and prepared for it, or walking and therefore inclined to stumble. No matter where you're going, he aims to get right in front of you, be noticed, and feel close to you.
Jesus said "Follow me," and oddly enough, people did. They got up, left their posts, sometimes leaving family, occupations, and other 'societal obligations' behind in order to take a walk.
I live in a sociological context where walking seems rather impractical. Public transportation is sparse, industry is reachable only by vehicle, and exercise is about running. I'm not in college anymore where one can often walk to class, nor do I live in the heart of downtown where everything I need is within a mile radius. Here, it is not often that one simply goes for a walk, and in a society motivated by production and efficiency, to do most anything, the belief is that there need to be a purpose, a goal in mind, and something being achieved. To set out on a walk one might find questions from within demanding to know, 'Where are you headed and why,' 'How can you get there with the most alacrity,' and 'Is there a way to cut the time in half and save twice the amount of energy.' Such is the context in which I find myself these days.
I wonder what it is exactly that we can learn from walking. Why is it important? Why was that the entry point for those who became his disciples: No formal education, no prestigious credentials, but an invitation to walk?
So with these questions in mind the other night, I set out for a walk, with Optimus by my side. Like I said, he is one who is always anxious for company, whether you are walking down the street or simply headed to your car, and reminds me of the way the disciples seem to have been unable to help themselves when they got up and followed Jesus.
Our walk began about a quarter til 9, plenty of time for the sun to have made its descent and the moon to be firmly planted in the corner of the sky. Where we live the stars are visible and often radiant, and down our dirt road the presence of streetlights are sparse, so off we trekked, down my dusty road, headed into familiar but currently indistinguishable territory.
The first thing I always notice when treading in the dark is the extent to which other senses are heightened when your sense of sight is diminished or even inaccessible. I noticed an unfamiliar smell, reminiscent of mint. I was more attuned to the choir of crickets, and rustling in the trees or brush. I could taste the cooler Autumn air, and the added freshness it brings as a foil to the humidity of the retreating Texas summer. I felt the gravel shifting beneath my shoes as I advanced this familiar terrain. An oncoming car approaching from the rear was sensed much sooner than usual, due to the glimmering headlights against the thick, aphotic night.
Riley, one of our other dogs, came with us this night, as she often does. Riley stays right next to me most of the time when we are out walking or running. She and I have spent more time together; for her entire first year she lived in an apartment with me. She is well-trained, docile, and obeys promptly. Therefore, I never put her on a leash. Optimus doesn't opt for the leash either. In fact, I cannot say with any certainty that our family even has a working leash available. So, during a walk, or a run, Riley keeps my pace, while Optimus, on the other hand, refuses to stay close. He'll only approach if he becomes jealous of the attention given to Riley, and even then, he keeps his distance until we return home. At home, he wants to be near, to be touched, to give and receive affection, and to always be connected, but on a walk, he keeps his distance, he loves to wander, and he refuses to get within arms reach for more than a moment, lest we grab him.
Our dusty road has one rather sharp turn, and on that corner live multiple dogs at one residence. They are secured by a wooden fence, but every time I walk past, the residence seems to have acquired a new canine, and every time Optimus joins me for a walk, there is an inevitable barking session. I usually run this route we're on this night, no matter the hour. Optimus and Riley always tag along for my runs, and my faster pace keeps their barking and incessant chatter with other dogs at bay. However, I knew that today, my tempered gait, the chatter between all parties would be augmented, and lengthened.
Despite the ruckus caused by Optimus chattering with the other dogs, I committed to the walk. The point was to learn what it meant to follow Jesus, and what was the importance of walking. But as we ambled past the crowded canine corner, I wondered if there were similarities to the way God walks with us, or the way Jesus and the disciples walked together. Do we often stay close by, the longer we've been walking together, like Riley with me? Do we often get distracted and caught up in things, and fail to heed instructions, as Optimus does? Do we race ahead, ambling about? Do we follow closely at the heels? Do the disciples resemble my beloved canines in behavior, sometimes staying ever so close, and other times straying off directionless, simply making sure they never get too far away from the one with whom they're walking? Optimus does check back in, after all, and he does follow the path I walk, even if he runs far ahead, or falls behind upon finding a distraction or point of interest.
Optimus knows one command, and that's how to sit. But he has to be paying attention to perform, and he only knows what to do if you not only tell him to sit, but accompany it with a snap of the fingers. However, on this night of walking, I realized that if I snapped while we were in motion, that Optimus actually listened, a bit. Upon hearing it, even amidst all the noise, he removed some distance from me, ever so slightly, and even gave a second thought to whether he would run off and stir up trouble with another canine.
It's a start.
Soon we had passed the canine corner, and we were on a new street, one that consists of pavement instead of gravel, adorned with two streetlights instead of the lone one on the previous street. The dark of night remained heavy though, and while the eve is peaceful, the unknown teems with possibility. And as anyone experienced in walking or sauntering could tell you, Adventure, even the smallest kind, is sure to find you on a walk.
I didn't realize what Optimus was doing at first; I simply heard rustling in the brush to the right of the pavement, and snapped my fingers in an attempt to get Optimus back on course. In the dark I saw the medium-build silhouette of my beloved mutt, whipping his face back and forth vigorously. Suddenly, it occurred to me that the rustling in the brush had been much faster tempo than that of Optimus rustling, and I realized this familiar silhouette was attempting to kill another other creature it had found. A smaller, unfamiliar silhouette was in his grips. I kept walking, suddenly aware that the dark isn't as empty and void as I previously thought, and I was uninterested in making any new friends on this night, of any kind. Soon Optimus caught up to Riley and me, and to my surprise, his mouth was empty. He had not taken any prisoners, or trophies. What then, did he find?
There's a flashlight application on my phone, and I had indeed brought it with me. But I did not need it. My olfactories, despite their recent bout with allergies, did not let me down: soon I knew that Optimus' new friend and latest victim (yes, I do feel as though I indeed was privy and audience to a murder this night) was a skunk.
At first, it smelled that distant scent - the most common aroma of skunk I have encountered. It's an echo, if you will, the kind that tells you that a skunk was nearby, or that it has recently sprayed someone, or something. It smells putrid, but it is not fresh, it is not developing in the present moment, and it does not hold the same ability to permeate within the nostrils as the scent that soon came after this incident, when Optimus came near.
This was skunk stench as I had never known it, and it was happening all around me. As if someone had brought rotting onions and allowed them to decompose in my throat, even breathing seemed unnatural as the smell seemed to emanate from within. As my allergies flared up, even sneezing seemed undesirable; that would have required an inhaling in order to release all the pressure and tickling effects.
Not only had I been present for a life vehemently ended, but I was to walk in the olfactory reminder for the remainder of our jaunt. Breathing, a typically involuntary process, suddenly took effort and concentration. Meanwhile, Optimus proceeded to roll around and scrape against the brush and trees as we continued walking, obviously as anxious to retreat from the smell as we were. He continued this attempt at cleansing behavior all the way home, including a dip in the neighbors pond.
And as we made our way home, I thought about how we get into messes.
I thought about how we want to be clean.
I thought about how sometimes it feels like the smell of our regrets, or shame, or inadequacies, or mistakes will never ever leave us.
And I thought about how the walk continues, despite the smell, the blisters, or the mishap.
I returned home to a posture of stillness, for the moment having finished walking, at least literally. To be honest, I'm not exactly sure what Jesus meant by wanting to take a walk, or for us to walk with him.
Although, I do know that by walking, you physically leave something behind.
You head in a new direction.
Maybe sometimes something needs to be left behind.
Or, maybe something needs to be found.
Often, in walking, you discover something new, perhaps literally, as Optimus did. Or perhaps more philosophically, as I always hope to when I take a walk.
I am certain that the road, the journey, the process of walking always has something it can teach us.
And not only that, but by walking you engage in an activity that is so crucial to the human spirit, as noticed and illuminated by voices such as Jesus, Thoreau, G.K. Chesterton, and more. Any pilgrim, tramp, traveler, or vagabond can tell you the beauty and benefit of a good walk.
I do know that by walking with someone, you learn a little bit more about them.
You encounter things along the way, and you learn how they respond.
You see their reactions.
You notice what they make important.
What do they take with them?
What do they leave behind?
Who and what do they notice?
What do they take the time to stop for?
What do they walk past?
How close to the path do they stay?
Do they stray from it, and pave their own way, or do they refuse to explore the uncharted territories?
When they encounter danger, mishap, folly, frustration, or a setback - how do they handle things?
What does it look like when they're tired, and what do they do to recharge?
Do they walk as if they own the place, and it is created to serve them?
Or do they walk in a way that respects the ground they approach and encounter, in a way that treads lightly as a visitor, rather than a sense of entitlement?
Meanwhile, Optimus still has a putrid scent to his coat, and there is one less skunk in the world.
But perhaps by walking, the two of us learned a little bit more about each other, and about ourselves.
Jesus once said that if someone asks you to walk a mile with them, go with him two. I once heard it said that this was because in walking with someone you could learn more about them, what they're about, and perhaps after two miles, a former enemy will have been made a neighbor, or even a friend.
I have no idea what walking will teach you. But I can say it has always taught me something, and for many a great mind, it seems to be some of the greatest advice and one of the best blessings that a person could receive and experience.
"All walking is discovery. On foot we take the times to see things whole." -Hal Borland
“Jesus promised his disciples three things—that they would be completely fearless, absurdly happy, and in constant trouble.”-G.K. Chesterton
"My father considered a walk among the mountains as the equivalent of churchgoing." -Aldous Huxley
"It is solved by walking." -Latin proverb
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Irreligious.
"I'm often accused of being irreligious, and I suppose it's for this very reason. Whether it's Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Catholicism, Hinduism, Judaism, or any other ism, when a religion is created on the subtle premise that God withholds his love and you must submit to the system to earn that love, I consider it the worst of corruptions.
But again, these traps work only because of two things: we long for love, and we are convinced that all love is conditional.
Ironically, this is where so many have a problem with Jesus. For centuries the church has been telling us if we want God to love us, we need to follow the rules. It's been far more important to focus on the sin problem than the love problem. This is the only way the institution can maintain control over our lives. After all, if love is unconditional, what will keep them following our rules?…
What governments have not always been able to do, religions have accomplished with amazing effectiveness. They keep people in line.
What in the world would happen if people actually began discovering the message of Jesus - that love is unconditional?"
-Erwin McManus
Sunday, August 29, 2010
No matter what.
"I will always forgive you.
I will always be here for you.
I will always help as you will let me.
There's nothing you can do that will scare me off, or cause me to cease being in your life supporting you.
As long as you want me there in your life, there I will be, helping you achieve what's best for you.
Don't worry about your inadequacies, for you are only human, and a beautiful work in progress. We are all works in progress.
I hope in our relationship and interaction you will always know you are safe, to be you, in your highs and lows, in your triumphs, your fears, your failures.
I hope you know that you will always be accepted just as you are.
I do not love some future version of you, but you today, just as you are.
No matter how distant you are, whether you decide you hate me, no matter how cold you may be, I will always care about you.
I will always believe in you.
I will always stand up for you and stand by you.
Regardless of your actions, you will always deserve to be loved, and I hope you always remember that you are."
-Agape
I will always be here for you.
I will always help as you will let me.
There's nothing you can do that will scare me off, or cause me to cease being in your life supporting you.
As long as you want me there in your life, there I will be, helping you achieve what's best for you.
Don't worry about your inadequacies, for you are only human, and a beautiful work in progress. We are all works in progress.
I hope in our relationship and interaction you will always know you are safe, to be you, in your highs and lows, in your triumphs, your fears, your failures.
I hope you know that you will always be accepted just as you are.
I do not love some future version of you, but you today, just as you are.
No matter how distant you are, whether you decide you hate me, no matter how cold you may be, I will always care about you.
I will always believe in you.
I will always stand up for you and stand by you.
Regardless of your actions, you will always deserve to be loved, and I hope you always remember that you are."
-Agape
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Packing for your Journey.
Journey - (n) 1. a traveling from one place to another, usually taking a rather long time; trip: 2. a distance, course, or area traveled or suitable for traveling; 3. a period of travel; 4. passage or progress from one stage to another; (v) 5. to make a journey; to travel
When planning for a journey, packing the essential items is of the utmost importance. You can only carry so much, and for the circumstances and situations you may encounter, you're not going to want to be left in a pinch without the necessary tools to get you through. So whatever your journey, whether personal or physical, whether you're backpacking across Europe, playing soccer in Brazil, volunteering in India, going on walkabout across Australia, taking a road trip around the Rocky Mountains, hiking the Scottish Highlands, teaching English in a foreign country, or something else entirely, the following is a list of the indispensable items to pack. But first, it's important to note the items better left out of the proverbial suitcase (or backpack), for if we accidentally fill our luggage with non-essentials, we won't have any room for the crucial items.
First, leave at home (or discard completely) any and all prejudices, and closed-mindedness in general, for the world is a vast place filled with people living and living well, and while perhaps different than the way you are accustomed to defining how to live, this does not mean their way of life is invalid, or ineffective.
Leave behind the idea that you have nothing left to learn. You will always be wrong if you actually believe this.
Leave behind the idea that communication is simply the statement of words that have been given associations, the black-and-white idea that 'this word always means this one thing'. For you will find that effective communication is much more complex. It takes time, understanding, listening, redefining words according to how the person who is speaking them means them, etc. Instead, aim to convey concepts and ideas successfully, the images and thoughts beyond the words, rather than simply the words themselves.
Leave behind pride and arrogance, for they are never helpful other than to assist in your isolation from others.
Leave behind vanity, a weight you'll soon regret bearing as you tramp from place to place, recognizing that there are more worthwhile things with which to concern oneself.
Leave behind cynicism, for the world is not so bleak as you think. And yet, while in some ways it will be bleaker than you imagined, no change will occur if your attitude already forces you to sit in darkness.
Leave behind a need to live a completely predictable life, or any firm grip upon schedules. Other people and cultures will operate within different rhythms than you're used to, and even if you get exactly what you asked for in an experience, a journey guarantees it won't be exactly as you expected.
Finally, leave room in your life for change, for growth, and to bring back home with you new perspectives, new vision, perhaps even some new aspects of who you are.
Now that we've cleared out unnecessary items, in my humble experience, these following things are absolutely essential when embarking upon a journey of any kind.
Bring with you open-mindedness. Be open to the potential for change and growth to occur, for your horizons to be broadened, to giving someone else the space to exist, recognizing that you are both alive, in your different ways, and it is good that you are both alive and bring something new to the table. Wisdom is found all over, and every moment has something worthwhile to teach, if you are listening.
Bring with you an interest in other people, in the strange, in the 'other', for you never know when you might have encountered a future friend. Be prepared for their arrival in your existence with questions to help you get to know them, good travel games, icebreakers, and an ability to listen, both to what people do say, and what they don't say.
Bring with you a spirit of adventure. Be open to seeing those inconveniences you're certain to encounter as yet another opportunity for an adventure.
Bring with you a sturdy pair of walking shoes. The best way to see a place, a country, etc, is by walking, and oh the blisters you will acquire. But think of the places your feet will have taken you, the growth you will incur, represented by the tough skin developing upon the soles of your feet, evidence that you can persevere, develop strength, and survive.
Bring with you a journal, something to write upon. You'll want to remember the details, great and small, of such a journey. They'll be priceless to reflect upon in the years to come.
Bring with you faith:
In people,
In a higher power and the realization that your needs will be provided for,
In a sense of order in this world,
In the potential for growth, change, beauty, majesty, honor, nobility - life will always surprise you.
You'll need to trust people, and I guarantee you won't be able to go your entire trip without relying on someone. Generally, people are willing to help, trying to do their best, and they're absolutely the best source from which to learn new things.
Bring with you a keen perceptive sense. Notice everything. For safety. For comparison. For interest. For knowledge. For wisdom.
Finally, bring with you a search for truth. Don't stop searching just because you think you've found part of it. "And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." -Hamlet
When planning for a journey, packing the essential items is of the utmost importance. You can only carry so much, and for the circumstances and situations you may encounter, you're not going to want to be left in a pinch without the necessary tools to get you through. So whatever your journey, whether personal or physical, whether you're backpacking across Europe, playing soccer in Brazil, volunteering in India, going on walkabout across Australia, taking a road trip around the Rocky Mountains, hiking the Scottish Highlands, teaching English in a foreign country, or something else entirely, the following is a list of the indispensable items to pack. But first, it's important to note the items better left out of the proverbial suitcase (or backpack), for if we accidentally fill our luggage with non-essentials, we won't have any room for the crucial items.
First, leave at home (or discard completely) any and all prejudices, and closed-mindedness in general, for the world is a vast place filled with people living and living well, and while perhaps different than the way you are accustomed to defining how to live, this does not mean their way of life is invalid, or ineffective.
Leave behind the idea that you have nothing left to learn. You will always be wrong if you actually believe this.
Leave behind the idea that communication is simply the statement of words that have been given associations, the black-and-white idea that 'this word always means this one thing'. For you will find that effective communication is much more complex. It takes time, understanding, listening, redefining words according to how the person who is speaking them means them, etc. Instead, aim to convey concepts and ideas successfully, the images and thoughts beyond the words, rather than simply the words themselves.
Leave behind pride and arrogance, for they are never helpful other than to assist in your isolation from others.
Leave behind vanity, a weight you'll soon regret bearing as you tramp from place to place, recognizing that there are more worthwhile things with which to concern oneself.
Leave behind cynicism, for the world is not so bleak as you think. And yet, while in some ways it will be bleaker than you imagined, no change will occur if your attitude already forces you to sit in darkness.
Leave behind a need to live a completely predictable life, or any firm grip upon schedules. Other people and cultures will operate within different rhythms than you're used to, and even if you get exactly what you asked for in an experience, a journey guarantees it won't be exactly as you expected.
Finally, leave room in your life for change, for growth, and to bring back home with you new perspectives, new vision, perhaps even some new aspects of who you are.
Now that we've cleared out unnecessary items, in my humble experience, these following things are absolutely essential when embarking upon a journey of any kind.
Bring with you open-mindedness. Be open to the potential for change and growth to occur, for your horizons to be broadened, to giving someone else the space to exist, recognizing that you are both alive, in your different ways, and it is good that you are both alive and bring something new to the table. Wisdom is found all over, and every moment has something worthwhile to teach, if you are listening.
Bring with you an interest in other people, in the strange, in the 'other', for you never know when you might have encountered a future friend. Be prepared for their arrival in your existence with questions to help you get to know them, good travel games, icebreakers, and an ability to listen, both to what people do say, and what they don't say.
Bring with you a spirit of adventure. Be open to seeing those inconveniences you're certain to encounter as yet another opportunity for an adventure.
Bring with you a sturdy pair of walking shoes. The best way to see a place, a country, etc, is by walking, and oh the blisters you will acquire. But think of the places your feet will have taken you, the growth you will incur, represented by the tough skin developing upon the soles of your feet, evidence that you can persevere, develop strength, and survive.
Bring with you a journal, something to write upon. You'll want to remember the details, great and small, of such a journey. They'll be priceless to reflect upon in the years to come.
Bring with you faith:
In people,
In a higher power and the realization that your needs will be provided for,
In a sense of order in this world,
In the potential for growth, change, beauty, majesty, honor, nobility - life will always surprise you.
You'll need to trust people, and I guarantee you won't be able to go your entire trip without relying on someone. Generally, people are willing to help, trying to do their best, and they're absolutely the best source from which to learn new things.
Bring with you a keen perceptive sense. Notice everything. For safety. For comparison. For interest. For knowledge. For wisdom.
Finally, bring with you a search for truth. Don't stop searching just because you think you've found part of it. "And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." -Hamlet
Monday, August 16, 2010
To Live in Italy.
What it's like to live in Italy:
First things first, the schedule. Italians wake up later, eat dinner later (8:00 pm / 20:00 is early for most restaurants), and 'riposo' is a highly enforced time in the smaller Italian cities. Riposo is like siesta time in Spain, only it's the Italian version. Every day, from 13:00 to 16:00/16:30, most shops close, restaurants take a break, and most Italians take an afternoon nap. All over the smaller towns the volume diminishes, and neighbors have been known to come by and request you shut off your music or dim the volume, as they are literally attempting to nap, in the middle of the day, ever day. It's brilliant. I once joined an Italian for their lunch break. They left work at 13:00, picked me up, and we went to their parents' house to enjoy a homemade Italian meal. Then, we watched a movie, and at about 16:00, they turned to me and said it was probably time for them to go back to work. I love it.
As for the meals, breakfast is similar to that of the French. It's some form of croissant, with Nutella (delicious chocolate liquid substance), cream, or plain, and coffee, an espresso, etc. You will not likely find eggs and bacon as you may know breakfast to include in the States. Lunch in Italy is light, and often skipped altogether. Lunch is also often skipped by many Italians, but if taken, it's later in the day, typically after noon, usually around 13:00 or later. Depending on the job, it's not a hard-and-fast lunch hour break either, but as I learned from my friend, lunch time is flexible, savored, and sometimes even slightly prolonged.
When the Italians communicate, they're louder than we might imagine. What sounds like a verbal fight to an American is simply casual conversation to an Italian. It's not uncommon to find a man walk into a store to order something, and engage in what looks like a verbal altercation with the employee, only to find them depart from the interaction pleasantly. The onlooking foreigner is often left confused if unaware of the social norms of public conversation. But when they are actually fighting, the Italians aren't afraid to show their emotions of hostility in public, out in the open. I was once at a train station and had front row seats to a woman and her husband engaging in what would be considered a heated domestic dispute in the States.
Also, Italians talk with their hands. If ever you need to interrupt an Italian, you need to physically grab their arms and hold them down to their sides.
What about shopping? Markets are rampant in Italy, and they're typically the best places to find 1) the freshest food, 2) the cheapest deals, and 3) the best and most authentic clothing.
When trying on clothes at an Italian market, clothes are hanging everywhere from a small stand, and you're less likely to be able to look at one item and ask if they have it in another size. If you're lucky, they will. But it's not guaranteed as in the big department stores, etc. When you find what you like and want to try it on, you'll be guided to a van with a sliding door, that's been gutted for this sole purpose, and to hold all the merchandise at the end of the day. They bring you a mirror and let you change, hoping that any approaching the van will at least knock before entering. You're also able to barter in the Italian market system.
Depending on the city, markets are open all around the area, on various days of the week. Some are larger, some are smaller, all are filled with vendors selling a variety of clothing, shoes, household objects (including the occasional giant wooden spoon), food, even pets, etc. These markets are different from the ones you'll find at tourist traps; the types of vendors in touristy areas display and sell things like Pinocchio dolls, vulgar cooking aprons, and mups that lean with a picture of the Tower of Pisa on the front, that also lights up.
With no Walmart equivalent in the country of Italy, medicine, etc is found at the Pharmacia, while stamps, phone cards, cigarettes, etc are found at the local Tobacci store. A separate grocery shop/market (indoors) holds the food, perishable and nonperishable, and typically all stores close down at the late hour of 20:00, 21:00 if they're a bit rebellious.
The food in Italy is, as you've probably heard, incredible. My favorite? Proscuitto crudo. It will set you free. 'Prosciutto' is the Italian word for ham, and the 'crudo' style is a dry-cured ham, sliced thinly and served uncooked. It is to be distinguished from 'prosciutto cotto', which is cooked, and, in my opinion, less delicious. :)
Fruit and veggies are freshest at the local markets, and open six days a week, Italian hours. Often the 'grocery stores' have less fresh food, and they'll often require you to bag each item individually. (Italy is less environmental than some countries and cultures, which I will get to later.)
You won't find frozen ice for purchase in Italy, and they have less quantities of bottled water than you'll find in the States.
Environmentally, Italy is less concerned with the issue of Italy than Texas is, home of the "Don't Mess with Texas" motto, a program against littering statewide. I've seen Italians throw entire meals out their car window, and walking along the streets you'll find anything from cigarette butts to whole pieces of food discarded. Not all of Italy/Italians feel this way, however. Italy has free water fountains all over the cities, with delicious drinking water available, and flowing nonstop.
As far as the beaches go, nudity in the Mediterranean is more common that we're accustomed to in the States. It's not uncommon for girls at toddler age to run around in only half a bathing suit, and the adult male is more often than not found donning the infamous speedo.
In terms of their homes, Italy is not a country that believes highly in the use of indoor air-conditioning. Instead, most houses have large awnings they can extend when the sun is beating down, and windows also come equipped with large shutters that can easily be opened, closed, slightly cracked, or completely sealed, shutting off all light and a great deal of heat from the outside. Homes will often have individual AC units, only broken out in dire situations, or for sleeping at night.
While most homes do have a washer for laundry, the load size is significantly smaller than the American standard, and it is rare to find a house equipped with a dryer for the clothes as well. For dishes and clothing, most Europeans don't dry either by machine, but instead allow nature and time to take its course. Each house is equipped with lines outside some window or balcony to hang clothes amidst the daylight warmth and air, and every European I've ever met owns a clothes-drying stand easily purchased at IKEA, for drying clothes inside when the weather is cold or the night falls.
In August, Italians, and all creatures of the Mediterranean, head on 'holiday' ('vacation' in the States, 'holiday' in Europe), anxious to escape the heat. The country typically has a month of holiday, as is the case in a great portion of Europe. In some places holiday has dwindled to a mere two weeks, but overall, Europe is more general with their vacation time as a culture than the United States. A friend in France has a standard annual holiday allotment of five weeks (she's worked at the company for 3 months), a number that will only increase with her tenure at the company.
Dogs in Italy are fiercely loyal to their masters, and all over Europe they're allowed almost anywhere, it seems. I've seen dogs in the streets, in the shops, of course on the beaches, on the trains, on the metro, even in the Apple store. Often they'll be walking alongside their owner sans leash, and never seem to stray very far, regardless of being completely unhindered from doing so.
The Italian personality is fascinating. Italians are passionate and have a zest for life, but when it comes to logistics, they're frequently unreliable, and proud to be so. Italian planes and trains always run on their own timetable, indifferent to whether you are in the know or not. It is not unusual for an Italian train to be 45 minutes behind schedule, or for an Italian plane company to shut down a flight and simply not reschedule it. Often Italian trains will switch platforms, despite what the board says. So if you aren't paying attention, you just might be standing at the wrong platform as your train leaves from a nearby platform.
And this only scratches the surface. Italy is a fascinating place, filled with a zest for life, passionate personalities, and culture that is intellectual, diverse, and thriving.
Italy: Add it to your bucket list. ;)
First things first, the schedule. Italians wake up later, eat dinner later (8:00 pm / 20:00 is early for most restaurants), and 'riposo' is a highly enforced time in the smaller Italian cities. Riposo is like siesta time in Spain, only it's the Italian version. Every day, from 13:00 to 16:00/16:30, most shops close, restaurants take a break, and most Italians take an afternoon nap. All over the smaller towns the volume diminishes, and neighbors have been known to come by and request you shut off your music or dim the volume, as they are literally attempting to nap, in the middle of the day, ever day. It's brilliant. I once joined an Italian for their lunch break. They left work at 13:00, picked me up, and we went to their parents' house to enjoy a homemade Italian meal. Then, we watched a movie, and at about 16:00, they turned to me and said it was probably time for them to go back to work. I love it.
As for the meals, breakfast is similar to that of the French. It's some form of croissant, with Nutella (delicious chocolate liquid substance), cream, or plain, and coffee, an espresso, etc. You will not likely find eggs and bacon as you may know breakfast to include in the States. Lunch in Italy is light, and often skipped altogether. Lunch is also often skipped by many Italians, but if taken, it's later in the day, typically after noon, usually around 13:00 or later. Depending on the job, it's not a hard-and-fast lunch hour break either, but as I learned from my friend, lunch time is flexible, savored, and sometimes even slightly prolonged.
When the Italians communicate, they're louder than we might imagine. What sounds like a verbal fight to an American is simply casual conversation to an Italian. It's not uncommon to find a man walk into a store to order something, and engage in what looks like a verbal altercation with the employee, only to find them depart from the interaction pleasantly. The onlooking foreigner is often left confused if unaware of the social norms of public conversation. But when they are actually fighting, the Italians aren't afraid to show their emotions of hostility in public, out in the open. I was once at a train station and had front row seats to a woman and her husband engaging in what would be considered a heated domestic dispute in the States.
Also, Italians talk with their hands. If ever you need to interrupt an Italian, you need to physically grab their arms and hold them down to their sides.
What about shopping? Markets are rampant in Italy, and they're typically the best places to find 1) the freshest food, 2) the cheapest deals, and 3) the best and most authentic clothing.
When trying on clothes at an Italian market, clothes are hanging everywhere from a small stand, and you're less likely to be able to look at one item and ask if they have it in another size. If you're lucky, they will. But it's not guaranteed as in the big department stores, etc. When you find what you like and want to try it on, you'll be guided to a van with a sliding door, that's been gutted for this sole purpose, and to hold all the merchandise at the end of the day. They bring you a mirror and let you change, hoping that any approaching the van will at least knock before entering. You're also able to barter in the Italian market system.
Depending on the city, markets are open all around the area, on various days of the week. Some are larger, some are smaller, all are filled with vendors selling a variety of clothing, shoes, household objects (including the occasional giant wooden spoon), food, even pets, etc. These markets are different from the ones you'll find at tourist traps; the types of vendors in touristy areas display and sell things like Pinocchio dolls, vulgar cooking aprons, and mups that lean with a picture of the Tower of Pisa on the front, that also lights up.
With no Walmart equivalent in the country of Italy, medicine, etc is found at the Pharmacia, while stamps, phone cards, cigarettes, etc are found at the local Tobacci store. A separate grocery shop/market (indoors) holds the food, perishable and nonperishable, and typically all stores close down at the late hour of 20:00, 21:00 if they're a bit rebellious.
The food in Italy is, as you've probably heard, incredible. My favorite? Proscuitto crudo. It will set you free. 'Prosciutto' is the Italian word for ham, and the 'crudo' style is a dry-cured ham, sliced thinly and served uncooked. It is to be distinguished from 'prosciutto cotto', which is cooked, and, in my opinion, less delicious. :)
Fruit and veggies are freshest at the local markets, and open six days a week, Italian hours. Often the 'grocery stores' have less fresh food, and they'll often require you to bag each item individually. (Italy is less environmental than some countries and cultures, which I will get to later.)
You won't find frozen ice for purchase in Italy, and they have less quantities of bottled water than you'll find in the States.
Environmentally, Italy is less concerned with the issue of Italy than Texas is, home of the "Don't Mess with Texas" motto, a program against littering statewide. I've seen Italians throw entire meals out their car window, and walking along the streets you'll find anything from cigarette butts to whole pieces of food discarded. Not all of Italy/Italians feel this way, however. Italy has free water fountains all over the cities, with delicious drinking water available, and flowing nonstop.
As far as the beaches go, nudity in the Mediterranean is more common that we're accustomed to in the States. It's not uncommon for girls at toddler age to run around in only half a bathing suit, and the adult male is more often than not found donning the infamous speedo.
In terms of their homes, Italy is not a country that believes highly in the use of indoor air-conditioning. Instead, most houses have large awnings they can extend when the sun is beating down, and windows also come equipped with large shutters that can easily be opened, closed, slightly cracked, or completely sealed, shutting off all light and a great deal of heat from the outside. Homes will often have individual AC units, only broken out in dire situations, or for sleeping at night.
While most homes do have a washer for laundry, the load size is significantly smaller than the American standard, and it is rare to find a house equipped with a dryer for the clothes as well. For dishes and clothing, most Europeans don't dry either by machine, but instead allow nature and time to take its course. Each house is equipped with lines outside some window or balcony to hang clothes amidst the daylight warmth and air, and every European I've ever met owns a clothes-drying stand easily purchased at IKEA, for drying clothes inside when the weather is cold or the night falls.
In August, Italians, and all creatures of the Mediterranean, head on 'holiday' ('vacation' in the States, 'holiday' in Europe), anxious to escape the heat. The country typically has a month of holiday, as is the case in a great portion of Europe. In some places holiday has dwindled to a mere two weeks, but overall, Europe is more general with their vacation time as a culture than the United States. A friend in France has a standard annual holiday allotment of five weeks (she's worked at the company for 3 months), a number that will only increase with her tenure at the company.
Dogs in Italy are fiercely loyal to their masters, and all over Europe they're allowed almost anywhere, it seems. I've seen dogs in the streets, in the shops, of course on the beaches, on the trains, on the metro, even in the Apple store. Often they'll be walking alongside their owner sans leash, and never seem to stray very far, regardless of being completely unhindered from doing so.
The Italian personality is fascinating. Italians are passionate and have a zest for life, but when it comes to logistics, they're frequently unreliable, and proud to be so. Italian planes and trains always run on their own timetable, indifferent to whether you are in the know or not. It is not unusual for an Italian train to be 45 minutes behind schedule, or for an Italian plane company to shut down a flight and simply not reschedule it. Often Italian trains will switch platforms, despite what the board says. So if you aren't paying attention, you just might be standing at the wrong platform as your train leaves from a nearby platform.
And this only scratches the surface. Italy is a fascinating place, filled with a zest for life, passionate personalities, and culture that is intellectual, diverse, and thriving.
Italy: Add it to your bucket list. ;)
Monday, August 2, 2010
Be brave. Breathe.
Life is not always easy.
No matter how old or young we are, weathered or sheltered, broken or whole, trudging or flying, wise or naive, brave or fearful, rich or poor, foreign or local, conservative or liberal, black, white, or anything in between, you, the reader, already know that this is true.
Sometimes life is really hard.
Sometimes we've been hurt by someone, whether the situation at hand is a breakup, divorce, someone lied/deceived us, a form of abuse, cruelty, neglect, persecution, judgment, or a misunderstanding gone awry.
Sometimes struggles happen that are out of anyone's control. Perhaps someone dies, and we get left behind; perhaps someone gets sick, a natural disaster occurs, there's an accident, the opportunity goes to someone else, plans and timing don't go the way we wish they would, etc. Perhaps the time is defined as boredom, angst, despair, alienation, or we simply have to wait.
Perhaps the struggle lasts a few days. Perhaps it carries on into months and even years. The nature of the struggle is that it often defines itself as it transpires.
When the struggles come, I've found we often wish we could sleep through them, fast-forward to the good parts, time travel to when the waiting was worthwhile and paid off - because it is the waiting through the struggle that seems so hard. It is living in the day to day that seems to prove time can slow down and drag by, as we wait for the promise tomorrow brings, or we hope it brings.
In a way it would be nice to sleep through the days/months/years of struggle, simply to wake up when the hard part is over. In the fairy tales, Snow White or Sleeping Beauty slept through the tough parts of the story. Of course we all cringed when we watched them eat the poison apple or touch the cursed spindle, but when facing a pain in this life that you must simply "endure" or "wait it out," I'll be the first to admit that sleeping through it seems like a choice I'd be happy to give a try. Hand me that poison apple or cursed spindle and let me wake up when this thing is all over. After all, I do like a good, long nap. When you awaken, the world will be as it should, the waiting will be over, and that handsome prince, (Mattel, the creators of the modern fairy tale 'Barbie,' would call him 'Ken'), will wake me up and tell me that while I've been sleeping he defeated the proverbial dragon.
I've always liked philosophy. My favorite is Existentialism. The existentialists are brilliant and strong; they discuss the nature of living and the nature of existence, and what it means to exist. These guys don't just pass the time, they really live, and they challenge us to do the same. They challenge us to really exist, and to make our breaths count. They pursue what it means to live a meaningful and fulfilled existence.
They emerged and wrote during periods in history when struggle was happening on national and global fronts, when the question of what made a meaningful life had to be answered. The days they were facing were far from easy, but rather filled with trial, pain, misery, loss, and many, many questions.
In times when so many were letting the despair of the times cause them to crumble, the existentialists were fighting an internal battle, defining for each moment a meaningfulness to life, in their own way. They were seeking how to live passionately and sincerely, in the midst of obstacles, distractions, and tribulations that could lead the individual to simply sit through today, only living for the coming of tomorrow.
I think I love them so much because I admire their bravery. They fight for purpose and don't shrink back when life deals them a tough hand.
It's a brave thing, to breathe.
It is a brave thing, to live, facing the struggle, the conflict, the pain, the trial, and to face it head on.
It is a brave thing, to breathe, despite all the circumstances that could potentially convince you it's not worth it.
Perhaps it would be easier to sleep, to let go, to give up, to run away, to stop caring, to fall away.
But...
to stay awake,
to press in,
to hold on,
to wait patiently,
to keep fighting,
to continue loving,
to stick around,
to continue caring,
to remain passionate,
to pursue meaning in the struggle,
to continue living,
to keep walking,
...despite all the terrible things that lie ahead on the path - that is profound bravery.
But why should we carry on?
Why not?
Who are you to say tomorrow can't be beautiful?
Your hands are quite capable of change, and there are plenty of people in this world that need to be helped, inspired, encouraged, fed, comforted, kept company, appreciated, valued, clothed, visited, nurtured, and loved.
It is often in our struggles that we learn better how to care for others, that we often learn traits such as empathy and compassion for one another, on levels deeper and greater than before we knew what it meant to struggle and suffer.
Besides, when the days seem long and unbearable...
Keep in mind that today is only 24 hours long, and tomorrow hold tremendous promise.
Keep in mind that these storms never last forever. Harriet Beecher Stowe once said, "When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn."
Keep in mind that dawn in coming, and surely fast approaches.
Robert Frost reminds us, "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: It goes on."
Keep in mind that even the most trying of times are made a little more bearable when there's someone around to hold your hand, and weather the storm with you.
And if all that isn't good enough for you, keep this is mind:
You, I, all of us, have been through struggle.
We've been through some sort of pain, suffering, misery, confusion, doubt, disbelief, etc - and we're now here, reading this, writing this, enduring this - surviving.
Keep in mind that while breathing takes profound bravery in times such as these, it is so worthwhile.
I take strength from the existentialists, because regardless of what they define as meaningful, they all rise above struggle, live in the midst of it, and pursue meaning in spite of whatever pain they may be enduring.
But that's the beauty of the existentialists. They may define meaning in different ways, but they all, in the beauty of the movement, ask the questions and press into life. It matters not so much about the specific answers they each came to find. But the beauty is that their struggle is our struggle, and we are each called to determine what it is that makes our days worth living, as Kierkegaard said, "...to find the idea for which I can live and die."
When I say survive, I mean your heart can carry on. I mean the loss/grief/confusion/struggle you may be dealing with doesn't have to break you. Doesn't have to mean that you'll be in pain and struggle forever.
Often in literature and movies, rain is an archetype for change.
It may be raining in your life, and life may be changing.
But it's certainly not ending.
Today, you're still alive, still breathing, and you can do something with those breaths.
I don't know what it is, that's for you to figure out.
I have my own meaning to find, my own trials and battles to fight, to breathe through, to win.
But the point is: your existence is not without purpose, and the fact that you're still breathing in the midst of and beyond the trial, beyond the loss, during the pain means you still very much have something to give.
You still have
something to offer,
something to create,
people to inspire,
books to read,
movies to watch,
things to learn,
miles/kilometers to travel,
adventures to have,
countries to visit,
people to meet,
hands to shake and hold,
lives to change and make better,
smiles to cause,
laughter to share,
joy to be had and found,
things to be discovered...
You still have a life to be lived.
So be brave, fellow human. Breathe, and continue living.
For this life, this trial, this struggle is only meaningless if you say it is.
"Listen as your day unfolds
Challenge what the future holds
Try and keep your head up to the sky
Lovers they may cause you tears
Go ahead, release your fears
Stand up and be counted
Don't be ashamed to cry."
-Des'ree
"For I consider that our present sufferings
are not worth comparing
with the glory that will be revealed in us."
-Romans 8:18
- Tom Head
are not worth comparing
with the glory that will be revealed in us."
-Romans 8:18
"You desire to know the art of living, my friend?
It is contained in one phrase: make use of suffering."
- Henri-Frederic Amiel
"Life is meaningless only if we allow it to be. Each of us has the power to give life meaning, to make our time and our bodies and our words into instruments of love and hope." - Tom Head
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