I am writing everything exactly as it is coming to my mind right now. It's amazing what comes out when you don't plan on what to say, because all the pretenses are removed from the message, and you end up with a direct link to your thoughts and mind.
I am thinking about sitting atop a snow covered mountain and what it would be like to shout from the top of my lungs to the world below. I am traveling back to the red road in Hawaii where I ran every day and would hear the thundering sounds of the ocean tides onto the volcanic beaches. I am back to the place where rainbows graced the horizon and moon bows haunted the evening sky. In the stillness my mind journeys to the places of clarity where no echo resonated louder than the very thoughts of my own mind. To search inside instead of seek outside the needs of my body was to discover the very essence of me.
Rays of sunlight were like knives penetrating the canope of trees creating a burst of life into the dull shadows. I was living on the tropical outskirts of a far off place, yet I have never felt so at home. Yet, in another realhm of geographic excess I felt the same serenity on a 14,000 mountain with the earth in all it's existence seemingly at my fingertips. It was a fading moment of reality, but a moment of clarity none the less. It's the kind of peace that the pure silence of freshly fallen snow can provide. Perhaps the further from the white noise of man made civilation the voice of God made creation speaks the loudest. Being of that very creation myself, I was at home.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Of Christmas Past
I was thinking about how Christmas has changed a lot for me over the years. Yes, I am one of those people who thinks it's ridiculous that Christmas decorations in department stores go up in October. Yes, I also think Christmas has gotten over marketed, and that society tries to sell the idea that a fat guy in a red and white suite is what Christmas is all about. I'm not cynical about Christmas...ok, well maybe I am a little, but it seems to me that all my fond memories of December 25th are like those Hallmark commercials from the 1980's.
If you're at least as old as me, then you'll remember those Hallmark classic movies, you know the ones that always made you wanna cry tears of joy at the end? You'll also remember those golden lit, airbrushed Hallmark Christmas commercials that seemed to depict on tv the exact way I depict my memories of my youth. I admit that I am sentmental, and I admit that I romanticize the past as something of a golden faded memory. Maybe that's the way I should always try to remember Christmas, and the reason I always do?
I remember my first Christmas like it was yesterday. I got up before the sun rose, it must have been around 5am, and I woke my parents with a zeal only a 3 year old could possess. My sister hadn't been born yet, and it was the first true Christmas that my parents had where we were a complete family. It was mom, dad, and myself. A perfectly complete little family at the beginning of all things. Obvisously it was even more amazing the following year where I celebrated my first Christmas as a big brother. Yet the surprise, wonderment, and joy that I felt on that morning may be a feeling that I never experience again from that point of view. I hope one day that I can relive bits and pieces of it through my children, but I know it will never be the same as feeling I had that could only be felt through the innocent mind of a child.
Christmas is about the ultimate gift of love, life, redemption, and humanity wrapped all into one. I think the basic elements of that are so simple that even I as a 3 year understood it. Did I know the true details of the Nativity story, of course not, yet the depth of emotion that Christmas embodies I did. But, not only did I understand it, but I felt it, and it was something incredibly real because it was my unihibited reality. The more we "grow up" and the more life clouds that view, the harder it is to see the true simplicity in things. For once I'd like to go back to a place of undestanding where I don't feel like I am required to overthink, or overanalyze because it is protecting me from reality. Life brings upon so many doubts, that we truly become incapable of seeing things without a lens.
I like to remind myself that life is only as complicated as you convince yourself that it is. It's that simple...and that complicated at the same time.
If you're at least as old as me, then you'll remember those Hallmark classic movies, you know the ones that always made you wanna cry tears of joy at the end? You'll also remember those golden lit, airbrushed Hallmark Christmas commercials that seemed to depict on tv the exact way I depict my memories of my youth. I admit that I am sentmental, and I admit that I romanticize the past as something of a golden faded memory. Maybe that's the way I should always try to remember Christmas, and the reason I always do?
I remember my first Christmas like it was yesterday. I got up before the sun rose, it must have been around 5am, and I woke my parents with a zeal only a 3 year old could possess. My sister hadn't been born yet, and it was the first true Christmas that my parents had where we were a complete family. It was mom, dad, and myself. A perfectly complete little family at the beginning of all things. Obvisously it was even more amazing the following year where I celebrated my first Christmas as a big brother. Yet the surprise, wonderment, and joy that I felt on that morning may be a feeling that I never experience again from that point of view. I hope one day that I can relive bits and pieces of it through my children, but I know it will never be the same as feeling I had that could only be felt through the innocent mind of a child.
Christmas is about the ultimate gift of love, life, redemption, and humanity wrapped all into one. I think the basic elements of that are so simple that even I as a 3 year understood it. Did I know the true details of the Nativity story, of course not, yet the depth of emotion that Christmas embodies I did. But, not only did I understand it, but I felt it, and it was something incredibly real because it was my unihibited reality. The more we "grow up" and the more life clouds that view, the harder it is to see the true simplicity in things. For once I'd like to go back to a place of undestanding where I don't feel like I am required to overthink, or overanalyze because it is protecting me from reality. Life brings upon so many doubts, that we truly become incapable of seeing things without a lens.
I like to remind myself that life is only as complicated as you convince yourself that it is. It's that simple...and that complicated at the same time.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Dear Life,
Second post today, my mind must be hitting on all cylinders.
This was my facebook status this morning. Not sure what fueled the fire exactly, but life has been crazy recently.
"Dear life- don't you know I am a masochistic endurance athlete? If you think I can't take everything you throw at me...I dare you..give me your best shot. I can take it. I always have, and always will. I am so much stronger than you think I am. Bring it you sorry sack of crap, because I will ALWAYS get back up for more."
God made me many things. He made me an incredible, almost to a scary degree, judge of character. I can size up a liar in seconds, and I can read character faster that anyone I know. Why am I not working for the FBI? Anyway, God also made me stubborn, loyal, trustworthy, cautious, and protective. It's also clear that God did not bestow these qualities in little amounts, He put them in me at 100% capacity. This means that these personality traits never show up in moderation.
I do understand that although stubborn, I have the heart of a lion. I think the reason endurance running specifically hits a chord with me is because it parallels life on almost every level (spiritual, mental, and physical). I have found that I excel at taking a beating, dusting myself off, and waging war again and again. I can take punishment(not just running) on a level many humans would cower from. I've never taken pain killers, even when seriously hurt, because it was always important for me to be as connected as possible with it.
Almost as a side joke, God made me a hopeless romantic (I know that's hard to believe), AND He made me cynical. I also base the world on a systematic level of quanitiative measures. I am incredibly logical and calculating, and yet I also possess a high artistic sense and love of philosophy. An artistic, pragmatic, realist? Geez, no wonder I can never make up my mind. My left and right brains are constantly at war with eachother. I find beauty in everything, yet question the beauty in everything, only to remind myself things are simpler then they appear...and also more complicated. Thank you God for making me a truly unique and beautiful snow flake. Without a doubt there really is NO one like me :-)
This was my facebook status this morning. Not sure what fueled the fire exactly, but life has been crazy recently.
"Dear life- don't you know I am a masochistic endurance athlete? If you think I can't take everything you throw at me...I dare you..give me your best shot. I can take it. I always have, and always will. I am so much stronger than you think I am. Bring it you sorry sack of crap, because I will ALWAYS get back up for more."
God made me many things. He made me an incredible, almost to a scary degree, judge of character. I can size up a liar in seconds, and I can read character faster that anyone I know. Why am I not working for the FBI? Anyway, God also made me stubborn, loyal, trustworthy, cautious, and protective. It's also clear that God did not bestow these qualities in little amounts, He put them in me at 100% capacity. This means that these personality traits never show up in moderation.
I do understand that although stubborn, I have the heart of a lion. I think the reason endurance running specifically hits a chord with me is because it parallels life on almost every level (spiritual, mental, and physical). I have found that I excel at taking a beating, dusting myself off, and waging war again and again. I can take punishment(not just running) on a level many humans would cower from. I've never taken pain killers, even when seriously hurt, because it was always important for me to be as connected as possible with it.
Almost as a side joke, God made me a hopeless romantic (I know that's hard to believe), AND He made me cynical. I also base the world on a systematic level of quanitiative measures. I am incredibly logical and calculating, and yet I also possess a high artistic sense and love of philosophy. An artistic, pragmatic, realist? Geez, no wonder I can never make up my mind. My left and right brains are constantly at war with eachother. I find beauty in everything, yet question the beauty in everything, only to remind myself things are simpler then they appear...and also more complicated. Thank you God for making me a truly unique and beautiful snow flake. Without a doubt there really is NO one like me :-)
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Broken and Shattered
Palace of Broken Dreams
As of today there are 6.77 billion people on this earth. At the earliest of ages, perhaps the age of accountablitity where we can decipher right from wrong, we disconnect from innocence and into another realm of conscience. For many of us, perhaps by chance, life will choose to pull us in directions that will ultimately shape the mold of who we become and how we face a very real world. Reality does not wait for us to be ready, and no amount of schooling can prepare the soul for the often bitter sting of the world and its relative truths.
There will certainly be those of us that live a percievingly charmed existence, and those of us who will not. Either one, regardless of how blatently clear they are to us, leaves more to be desired. It's the reason the millionaire athlete and the prostitute can both find themselves shivering alone in a drug induced state in a hotel room. It is the perception that you have it all, but even having it all leaves you with nothing. The world will find a way of revealing what is most valued to us, and then strip it away.
Even by the time we are young adults, we are scarred. Sexual abuse, domestic violence, emotional and physical abuse, all lead us down the same dark path. Even worse the wounds bleed more when we are hurt by those we trust willingly and love unconditionally. We learn we will always be let down, and we can trust no one...not even ourselves. And again, ironically even the successful lawyer and his beautiful family may eventually meet the shattered at the same crossroads. It's funny how lives in the now and here find a way to converge at a point of soul aching chaos. We are all broken from the "nevers and maybes", the "I love you's",and "I'll never love you's". We've walked away, been walked away from, and abandoned.
Many people don't know this, but I suffered from bulimia for nearly two years, but I was normal. At least I convinced myself I was despite the worries of my family and friends. I weighed 40 lbs less than I did in college,and I was never heavier than 173lbs then. I called it being "healthy","watching my weight", and believed it was a result of my new passion for running. I believed my own lies. Was it a subconcious issue of control, body image, or perhaps merely an exaggerated method of molding myself into some idealized version of me? People spend so much time trying to numb pain, with even more pain. They literally cut themselves deeper and deeper in order to feel something (anything), and to punish themselves for the mistakes in their life,often reagrdless of fault. Maybe it's so they can feel on the outside what they already feel on the inside. I believe it's the reason we drink until we can't feel a thing, use drugs to destroy the little of us that remains human, and desire to lose all control because to be in control leaves us accountable for our own actions. The reason we take pain killers is so we can live through the pain, but in reality the core of the pain (the injury) is still there and living through it without a true solution only makes it worse.
The burden of life is a heavy weight. Many people choose to not acknowledge it, but for those(like myself) who have a heightened emotional connection to the world around me, it is hard to not absorb the external forces that keep us from moving. A friend of mine shared with me a story of how 5 ton elephants are trained. They are first tied to an immovable object with a very thick chain that even they cannot break. Slowly, the massive elephant realizes that with all it's brute strength it can't break the chain. After enough time, the thick chain is replaced by a smaller one, then another,until finally only a small rope is keeping the elephant tied down. The creature, assumes by the feel, that he can still no longer break free, although he could easily do it. Now the master, a human of insignificant size compared to the elephant, can manipulate its direction with merely the slightest tug of a tiny rope.
I wonder how much freedom we would rejoice in if we actually knew our chains were nothing more than little strings. Our past, our "failed" dreams,and our damaged nature eats at the core of our soul until the mighty creature that once stood has been relegated to a lowly beast of burden. Yet we continue to stumble blindly through the darkness chasing shadows into deeper depths of sorrow and solitude. The needle holes, cutting scars, and bruises have tattooed themselves over the facade of a fractured being. Our skin, our outside, whether visibly damaged, or that of a supermodel often belies what is truly at the root of our identity. Are we not more than what we allow to cover us and permiate the very threads of our being?
You can clothe your brokeness and nakedness with pearls and Armani, but it's like fixing a leaking dam with duct tape. You can drown out the suffering and serve your penance, but self destruction is a cruel ghost, and it'll haunt you until you are fixed on the inside. The heart is the source of life, pumping blood the body, and when the heart shatters, everything else comes crashing down. The heart is a palace of broken dreams, and often pride and guilt prevent us from coming to a place of restoration and redemption.
"Behold, I make all things new"
As of today there are 6.77 billion people on this earth. At the earliest of ages, perhaps the age of accountablitity where we can decipher right from wrong, we disconnect from innocence and into another realm of conscience. For many of us, perhaps by chance, life will choose to pull us in directions that will ultimately shape the mold of who we become and how we face a very real world. Reality does not wait for us to be ready, and no amount of schooling can prepare the soul for the often bitter sting of the world and its relative truths.
There will certainly be those of us that live a percievingly charmed existence, and those of us who will not. Either one, regardless of how blatently clear they are to us, leaves more to be desired. It's the reason the millionaire athlete and the prostitute can both find themselves shivering alone in a drug induced state in a hotel room. It is the perception that you have it all, but even having it all leaves you with nothing. The world will find a way of revealing what is most valued to us, and then strip it away.
Even by the time we are young adults, we are scarred. Sexual abuse, domestic violence, emotional and physical abuse, all lead us down the same dark path. Even worse the wounds bleed more when we are hurt by those we trust willingly and love unconditionally. We learn we will always be let down, and we can trust no one...not even ourselves. And again, ironically even the successful lawyer and his beautiful family may eventually meet the shattered at the same crossroads. It's funny how lives in the now and here find a way to converge at a point of soul aching chaos. We are all broken from the "nevers and maybes", the "I love you's",and "I'll never love you's". We've walked away, been walked away from, and abandoned.
Many people don't know this, but I suffered from bulimia for nearly two years, but I was normal. At least I convinced myself I was despite the worries of my family and friends. I weighed 40 lbs less than I did in college,and I was never heavier than 173lbs then. I called it being "healthy","watching my weight", and believed it was a result of my new passion for running. I believed my own lies. Was it a subconcious issue of control, body image, or perhaps merely an exaggerated method of molding myself into some idealized version of me? People spend so much time trying to numb pain, with even more pain. They literally cut themselves deeper and deeper in order to feel something (anything), and to punish themselves for the mistakes in their life,often reagrdless of fault. Maybe it's so they can feel on the outside what they already feel on the inside. I believe it's the reason we drink until we can't feel a thing, use drugs to destroy the little of us that remains human, and desire to lose all control because to be in control leaves us accountable for our own actions. The reason we take pain killers is so we can live through the pain, but in reality the core of the pain (the injury) is still there and living through it without a true solution only makes it worse.
The burden of life is a heavy weight. Many people choose to not acknowledge it, but for those(like myself) who have a heightened emotional connection to the world around me, it is hard to not absorb the external forces that keep us from moving. A friend of mine shared with me a story of how 5 ton elephants are trained. They are first tied to an immovable object with a very thick chain that even they cannot break. Slowly, the massive elephant realizes that with all it's brute strength it can't break the chain. After enough time, the thick chain is replaced by a smaller one, then another,until finally only a small rope is keeping the elephant tied down. The creature, assumes by the feel, that he can still no longer break free, although he could easily do it. Now the master, a human of insignificant size compared to the elephant, can manipulate its direction with merely the slightest tug of a tiny rope.
I wonder how much freedom we would rejoice in if we actually knew our chains were nothing more than little strings. Our past, our "failed" dreams,and our damaged nature eats at the core of our soul until the mighty creature that once stood has been relegated to a lowly beast of burden. Yet we continue to stumble blindly through the darkness chasing shadows into deeper depths of sorrow and solitude. The needle holes, cutting scars, and bruises have tattooed themselves over the facade of a fractured being. Our skin, our outside, whether visibly damaged, or that of a supermodel often belies what is truly at the root of our identity. Are we not more than what we allow to cover us and permiate the very threads of our being?
You can clothe your brokeness and nakedness with pearls and Armani, but it's like fixing a leaking dam with duct tape. You can drown out the suffering and serve your penance, but self destruction is a cruel ghost, and it'll haunt you until you are fixed on the inside. The heart is the source of life, pumping blood the body, and when the heart shatters, everything else comes crashing down. The heart is a palace of broken dreams, and often pride and guilt prevent us from coming to a place of restoration and redemption.
"Behold, I make all things new"
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