Relationships swirl before my eyes like inconsequential flakes of snow, drifting here and there. Some linger longer than others, but all must leave. They are blown away by winds both harsh and inevitable. The rest are melted on the dark contrast of my skin, left bitter and cold on my tongue. An afterthought. A memory.
Yet the snowflakes protest. Do they not see their fate? I am a stone, a constant in the world, unaffected by all but the most severe weather. Snowfall can be both a pleasant surprise and a nuisance, but merits no more thought than this.
It is not out of spite that the frozen stars melt against me, or with regret that I watch them carried away by their own invisible tides. It is with the calm assurances that more will come as they have come and gone before.
So you see, you are nothing more than occasional pleasant company, and that's all I will ever let you be. To love you is to draw you inside of me, frozen water expanding the cracks so carefully hidden by rough walls and callous exterior. To love you, my little snowflake, is to make myself weak. So I do not love you and you will drift away into white skies or become consumed by my heat, a passing moment, one single moment of my very long life.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Blue Glass Rose
A little girl in a glass shop with ten dollars in her pocket peers into display cases.
She has seen the big muscled men pull the glowing molten globs into the delicate trumpet of a flower, the curving line of a stem, and blue rose petals. The paper weights do not attract her eye. She does not care for the shimmering dragonfly who's wings glisten a gentle green in the fluorescent lights of the storefront.
That one there, in orange, a brilliant blossom calls to her, beckoning the child, burning holes in her pocket. She buys the flower, placing it tenderly inside a white paper bag. But as she turns to leave, she sees it. The rose. The very rose made before her eyes in the warehouse of white hot ovens, where men poured sweat over vast cauldrons of superheated glass. The man had made that rose. She had watched the shining ball of melting sugar as the man flipped it upside down, gravity shaping out the stem as he took an enormous pair of crass looking tweezers to pinch out dainty petals and an inner swirl. The blue was only visible after the material had cooled, the blue called to her.
She went to the mustached man at the counter.
"How much is the rose?" she asked, eyes wide as she could force them, desire plain on her face.
"Twelve dollars." He grunted through thick eyebrows.
Her heart broke.
Despair etched on her little face the man took pity on her and asked, "How much have you got there?"
"Only four." she sighed tragically and eyed the rose once more.
The man melted in her capable hands, his will bending to her hands the way molten roses obey their muscled masters.
"Here." He reached into the case and pulled out the thing. "For a pretty girl."
Years later, after much love and abuse, the girl viewed the rose as a pure thing, the symbol of who she was and who she would become. She imagined one day that she would give the blue glass flower to a man she loved, as if to say, this is me.
But the blue glass rose was never a symbol of purity. It was the manifestation of a young girls greed, of a manipulating heart, the trademark of one who, even now, manages to lie so blatantly and with such skill, that she fools not only kind hearted storefront clerks, but even herself.
So she keeps it, it's broken beauty a constant reminder to her of what she really is, what she will someday hand to a man who loves her as proof of her unworthiness. She will hand it to him and say, "This is me. I am Nothing. Nothing but a blue glass rose."
She has seen the big muscled men pull the glowing molten globs into the delicate trumpet of a flower, the curving line of a stem, and blue rose petals. The paper weights do not attract her eye. She does not care for the shimmering dragonfly who's wings glisten a gentle green in the fluorescent lights of the storefront.
That one there, in orange, a brilliant blossom calls to her, beckoning the child, burning holes in her pocket. She buys the flower, placing it tenderly inside a white paper bag. But as she turns to leave, she sees it. The rose. The very rose made before her eyes in the warehouse of white hot ovens, where men poured sweat over vast cauldrons of superheated glass. The man had made that rose. She had watched the shining ball of melting sugar as the man flipped it upside down, gravity shaping out the stem as he took an enormous pair of crass looking tweezers to pinch out dainty petals and an inner swirl. The blue was only visible after the material had cooled, the blue called to her.
She went to the mustached man at the counter.
"How much is the rose?" she asked, eyes wide as she could force them, desire plain on her face.
"Twelve dollars." He grunted through thick eyebrows.
Her heart broke.
Despair etched on her little face the man took pity on her and asked, "How much have you got there?"
"Only four." she sighed tragically and eyed the rose once more.
The man melted in her capable hands, his will bending to her hands the way molten roses obey their muscled masters.
"Here." He reached into the case and pulled out the thing. "For a pretty girl."
Years later, after much love and abuse, the girl viewed the rose as a pure thing, the symbol of who she was and who she would become. She imagined one day that she would give the blue glass flower to a man she loved, as if to say, this is me.
But the blue glass rose was never a symbol of purity. It was the manifestation of a young girls greed, of a manipulating heart, the trademark of one who, even now, manages to lie so blatantly and with such skill, that she fools not only kind hearted storefront clerks, but even herself.
So she keeps it, it's broken beauty a constant reminder to her of what she really is, what she will someday hand to a man who loves her as proof of her unworthiness. She will hand it to him and say, "This is me. I am Nothing. Nothing but a blue glass rose."
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Why women wear Heels
There is a type of woman, of which I am one, who stands proudly in their high heels, fists held to the skies to declare "I am a woman! I need no counterpart, no other half to make me whole. I am a complete creation in and of myself!"
That type of woman confidently stands in her stilettos to bridge the physical gap between the genders. She is the woman who parades triumphantly into the weight room at the local gym, to bench press with the best of them.
She is the woman who always looks her best, not to attract the opposite sex, but to prove that she needs no reason to do so. She is the woman who is a mean and end in herself, with no singular partner as her end goal. Her flag is the snake skin purse at her side. Her battle cry is the click clack of heels across the clean marble floor of her business place, her weapons are the manicured nails kept polished as proof of her potency. She is a woman.
We wear heels as a symbol to the world, not of equality to men, but of superiority. We wear heels even as we are are plagued by sore feet and weak ankles. We wear heels because sometimes... We fall. And sometimes when we fall, there is a man there to catch us with a smile. Not a smile of arrogance. Not a grin that says, "I've saved a damsel in distress now look at my muscles you mortals and despair." it is a smile of approval. And sometimes that man will set us back upon our pedestal, the two we have strapped to our feet, and send us on our way.
I am a woman! If any man dare contest this truth, let him enter the ring he wont last long. I do not need a man! But... Sometimes I'd like one. Because I know that, sometimes, what you want the least, is what can make you the strongest you've ever been. And thats why I wear heels.
That type of woman confidently stands in her stilettos to bridge the physical gap between the genders. She is the woman who parades triumphantly into the weight room at the local gym, to bench press with the best of them.
She is the woman who always looks her best, not to attract the opposite sex, but to prove that she needs no reason to do so. She is the woman who is a mean and end in herself, with no singular partner as her end goal. Her flag is the snake skin purse at her side. Her battle cry is the click clack of heels across the clean marble floor of her business place, her weapons are the manicured nails kept polished as proof of her potency. She is a woman.
We wear heels as a symbol to the world, not of equality to men, but of superiority. We wear heels even as we are are plagued by sore feet and weak ankles. We wear heels because sometimes... We fall. And sometimes when we fall, there is a man there to catch us with a smile. Not a smile of arrogance. Not a grin that says, "I've saved a damsel in distress now look at my muscles you mortals and despair." it is a smile of approval. And sometimes that man will set us back upon our pedestal, the two we have strapped to our feet, and send us on our way.
I am a woman! If any man dare contest this truth, let him enter the ring he wont last long. I do not need a man! But... Sometimes I'd like one. Because I know that, sometimes, what you want the least, is what can make you the strongest you've ever been. And thats why I wear heels.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Poetry Alive
A story, to me, is like sitting in a field of fireflies. Words flit above and around me, twinkling like low flying stars. All I have to do is reach out into empty space and wrap my hand around a thought, pull it into my chest, and release it finally onto the paper, immortalized forever in the pages of my notebook. A story often comes in complete sentences, whole ideas, waiting nearby only to be recorded. Poetry is a little bit different.
Poetry slips through my mind, elusive, incomplete. It begs finality, a beginning and an end. A single phrase will arrest my attention, then leave me in a panicked frenzy for paper and pen. As the light drifts away, sometimes, I lose it. But, when I am quick enough, I can toss my pen into the air and spear the escaping idea, catch it with careful hands as it falls to the earth, and lovingly piece it back together, a small victory in the war that words have waged against me.
Stories come to me continually, like waves lapping against the shore of my mind. They are a common place beauty, easily taken for granted. I do not love stories the way I love Poetry. Because Poetry is the greater battle, the deeper struggle, the fiecer fight. Poetry is sacrifice and pain. I often pull stories from all my pockets like loose change. But my Poetry is something that I rip from my heart, wrenching away my most precious thoughts from inside of me, and offering them as little trinkets to the common man on the street.
Poetry is painful, precious. My private emotions on display to those who may not understand or appreciate, that scares me. But that pain, that risk, that heartache, is what makes Poetry worth while.
Poetry slips through my mind, elusive, incomplete. It begs finality, a beginning and an end. A single phrase will arrest my attention, then leave me in a panicked frenzy for paper and pen. As the light drifts away, sometimes, I lose it. But, when I am quick enough, I can toss my pen into the air and spear the escaping idea, catch it with careful hands as it falls to the earth, and lovingly piece it back together, a small victory in the war that words have waged against me.
Stories come to me continually, like waves lapping against the shore of my mind. They are a common place beauty, easily taken for granted. I do not love stories the way I love Poetry. Because Poetry is the greater battle, the deeper struggle, the fiecer fight. Poetry is sacrifice and pain. I often pull stories from all my pockets like loose change. But my Poetry is something that I rip from my heart, wrenching away my most precious thoughts from inside of me, and offering them as little trinkets to the common man on the street.
Poetry is painful, precious. My private emotions on display to those who may not understand or appreciate, that scares me. But that pain, that risk, that heartache, is what makes Poetry worth while.
A Letter to Superman
I never thought the day would come again when I would wish to tell you everything.
Now don't get me wrong, I still hate you, I don't miss you, and I hope your love life will always be as cursed as you have made mine. But I miss what you were to me.
Sometimes after a long day, I find myself checking my mailbox for one of your poems. Each one you sent me is seared into my heart and I know them so well I can read them backwards in the mirror, and upside down on my chest.
You were my Superman, my angel. You represented to me a man who could stand against the world. On the wings of your words you lifted me far into the heavens, brushing clouds and starts, claiming them for me. When you fell, I plummeted back to earth alone.
I waited there in my creator for you to rescue me and take me home. You never did, so I made the painstaking climb all by myself, dragging my body over sharp memory shards and broken dreams that had fallen with me from the skies.
You always gave me terrible advice, but I loved to hear it. Your voice was like the steady drumming of my own heart. I miss that.
I feel sorry for you, now, after years of feeling sorry for myself. No one ever means to fall. It was only that you dragged me down with you that inspired my hate.
But that's not why I'm writing this.
I miss our little Seinfeld dramas. It was the little things I loved to tell you: I drew a new picture today, I read a great book. In fact, sharing things with you made me so happy that sometimes I would make things up just to hear you laugh and call me a silly girl.
I knew from almost the very start that I did not love you, but you loved me. I'm sorry for that. But that's not why I'm writing either.
I'm writing to tell you Goodbye. This may not be my last note to you, or my final Goodbye (I've said it so many times before) but in a way, it is.
I'm writing this to give you the forgiveness you may not have known you needed. I won't condone your anger, your abuse, the things you said or what you made me do, but I will forget them, and let you go.
To hold onto the memories of you that I do cherish, I cannot continue to let them be stained with anger and pain.
Goodbye. Goodbye hate, goodbye malice, goodbye regrets, goodbye little girl, and goodbye my Superman.
Now don't get me wrong, I still hate you, I don't miss you, and I hope your love life will always be as cursed as you have made mine. But I miss what you were to me.
Sometimes after a long day, I find myself checking my mailbox for one of your poems. Each one you sent me is seared into my heart and I know them so well I can read them backwards in the mirror, and upside down on my chest.
You were my Superman, my angel. You represented to me a man who could stand against the world. On the wings of your words you lifted me far into the heavens, brushing clouds and starts, claiming them for me. When you fell, I plummeted back to earth alone.
I waited there in my creator for you to rescue me and take me home. You never did, so I made the painstaking climb all by myself, dragging my body over sharp memory shards and broken dreams that had fallen with me from the skies.
You always gave me terrible advice, but I loved to hear it. Your voice was like the steady drumming of my own heart. I miss that.
I feel sorry for you, now, after years of feeling sorry for myself. No one ever means to fall. It was only that you dragged me down with you that inspired my hate.
But that's not why I'm writing this.
I miss our little Seinfeld dramas. It was the little things I loved to tell you: I drew a new picture today, I read a great book. In fact, sharing things with you made me so happy that sometimes I would make things up just to hear you laugh and call me a silly girl.
I knew from almost the very start that I did not love you, but you loved me. I'm sorry for that. But that's not why I'm writing either.
I'm writing to tell you Goodbye. This may not be my last note to you, or my final Goodbye (I've said it so many times before) but in a way, it is.
I'm writing this to give you the forgiveness you may not have known you needed. I won't condone your anger, your abuse, the things you said or what you made me do, but I will forget them, and let you go.
To hold onto the memories of you that I do cherish, I cannot continue to let them be stained with anger and pain.
Goodbye. Goodbye hate, goodbye malice, goodbye regrets, goodbye little girl, and goodbye my Superman.
Necessary Lies
Compromises of my soul, handing myself over bit by bit to those I must assuage with my lies.
I never wanted it to be this way. As a girl I dreampted of an honest world, a world which now seems far away and impossible. Lies, like ugly little greamlins who cling to your back, have become a necessity. To spare hurt to others I add another sniviling creature to my load. They snicker and laugh at me.
"Good never comes of evil!" They sneer. They speak the truth, honestly, cutting me with words sharper than serrated teeth or claws.
"Lies. Liar. Deceiver. Fake." They accuse me.
But am I wrong?
To want to save those I love from the truth, to lie to myself and pretend to love who I do not love, to offer a sanctuary for those drenched in torrential rains of reality... am I wrong?
A storyteller always, I never imagined the power stories have and not just for those who listen and hear, but for the one that does the telling. A story will bind you to it, like a little gremlin, at one time dark and fascinating, now only a burden to be born with patience. Out of necessity.
I never wanted it to be this way. As a girl I dreampted of an honest world, a world which now seems far away and impossible. Lies, like ugly little greamlins who cling to your back, have become a necessity. To spare hurt to others I add another sniviling creature to my load. They snicker and laugh at me.
"Good never comes of evil!" They sneer. They speak the truth, honestly, cutting me with words sharper than serrated teeth or claws.
"Lies. Liar. Deceiver. Fake." They accuse me.
But am I wrong?
To want to save those I love from the truth, to lie to myself and pretend to love who I do not love, to offer a sanctuary for those drenched in torrential rains of reality... am I wrong?
A storyteller always, I never imagined the power stories have and not just for those who listen and hear, but for the one that does the telling. A story will bind you to it, like a little gremlin, at one time dark and fascinating, now only a burden to be born with patience. Out of necessity.
The things we learn
I am a loner.
Every since the days of my childhood I have understood this truth. While girls my age played with Barbie dolls and their mothers over sized clothes, I read books about space, history, the ocean, and mythology. While little children laughed in my Grandmother's backyard and spent their time plucking the stalks off the great tree to sword fight with, I sat at the grown up table and concisely explained my plans for the future.
I am an anomaly. I am a social butterfly who would rather spend her nights alone. I am a lone wolf who longs for pleasant conversation. My paradoxical nature is my right which I reserve. I will plan and re-plan my life as often as I see fit, which is often enough. I will learn something new and exciting every single day, while at the same time I will bemoan my uninteresting existence. I will adore the person that I am while at the same time looking forward to change and who I will become. I am complicated.
Every day I learn something new about myself.
Last week I discovered that I hate people. The churning masses of the world have thrown away their potential and embraced mediocrity. I am literally, the 1%, the oddball. I am a believer in logic and truth and therefore a threat to be ostracized. So I cast myself out before I can be rejected by anyone else. The world does not deserve my light or my love, which are to be earned, not given as a free handout for simply being alive.
Yesterday i realized that I hate the world simply because I love it so much. When you open the door, your heart, when you let people in, it is so easy to love them. But people are not perfect. To love is to be hurt, disappointed and rejected. That is inevitable. So because I love, I hate them.
Yet even I, the strange girl who reads a book instead of chasing the cute boys at recess, even I, the teenager who learns to read braille in her spare time, even I, the weird girl in class who writes her notes backwards out of admiration and respect for Leonard da Vinci, I wish to be loved. All the frustration, anger, jealousy, heartache and sorrow in the world stem from this one truth. We wish to be loved.
Now if we deserve that love is another issue entirely, but who are we to judge? If even I, the misanthropic loner can learn to love, then there is no one on this beautiful planet that cannot do the same.
Every since the days of my childhood I have understood this truth. While girls my age played with Barbie dolls and their mothers over sized clothes, I read books about space, history, the ocean, and mythology. While little children laughed in my Grandmother's backyard and spent their time plucking the stalks off the great tree to sword fight with, I sat at the grown up table and concisely explained my plans for the future.
I am an anomaly. I am a social butterfly who would rather spend her nights alone. I am a lone wolf who longs for pleasant conversation. My paradoxical nature is my right which I reserve. I will plan and re-plan my life as often as I see fit, which is often enough. I will learn something new and exciting every single day, while at the same time I will bemoan my uninteresting existence. I will adore the person that I am while at the same time looking forward to change and who I will become. I am complicated.
Every day I learn something new about myself.
Last week I discovered that I hate people. The churning masses of the world have thrown away their potential and embraced mediocrity. I am literally, the 1%, the oddball. I am a believer in logic and truth and therefore a threat to be ostracized. So I cast myself out before I can be rejected by anyone else. The world does not deserve my light or my love, which are to be earned, not given as a free handout for simply being alive.
Yesterday i realized that I hate the world simply because I love it so much. When you open the door, your heart, when you let people in, it is so easy to love them. But people are not perfect. To love is to be hurt, disappointed and rejected. That is inevitable. So because I love, I hate them.
Yet even I, the strange girl who reads a book instead of chasing the cute boys at recess, even I, the teenager who learns to read braille in her spare time, even I, the weird girl in class who writes her notes backwards out of admiration and respect for Leonard da Vinci, I wish to be loved. All the frustration, anger, jealousy, heartache and sorrow in the world stem from this one truth. We wish to be loved.
Now if we deserve that love is another issue entirely, but who are we to judge? If even I, the misanthropic loner can learn to love, then there is no one on this beautiful planet that cannot do the same.
A song
"Write a song" I told myself
About them so they'll listen.
"Show them what talent really is
Not some stupid pointless whim."
So I set out of my own volition
To write a song of lies.
I wrote about the strength, beauty and light
That sparkled in their eyes.
"I love you all!" I told them.
"You saved me from the dark!"
When the darkness lay around me
No intention to let go.
It was they themselves who caused it,
Fed it, anxiously watched it grow.
"It was you!" I realized screaming.
"You're who I should fear!
You'll suck me dry and beat me down
Until I disappear!"
But you hid beneath the shadows
Poisoning me all along
And I never would have known it
If I hadn't wrote that song.
About them so they'll listen.
"Show them what talent really is
Not some stupid pointless whim."
So I set out of my own volition
To write a song of lies.
I wrote about the strength, beauty and light
That sparkled in their eyes.
"I love you all!" I told them.
"You saved me from the dark!"
When the darkness lay around me
No intention to let go.
It was they themselves who caused it,
Fed it, anxiously watched it grow.
"It was you!" I realized screaming.
"You're who I should fear!
You'll suck me dry and beat me down
Until I disappear!"
But you hid beneath the shadows
Poisoning me all along
And I never would have known it
If I hadn't wrote that song.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Empathy
There is pain in this life which no words or amount of time can heal. There are wounds which never close, there are scars which never fade. There are people out there who I cannot help.
When a boy tells me in the quite of his car that he stopped doing drugs when he nearly hung himself in front of his cousins.. .when a girl explains the horrors her mother went was put through as a child because of her Father and Uncle... when the most wonderful boy I've ever met is hated by his parents and my two dearest friends come to school bruised and broken because of domestic abuse... That is when I realize my own inadequacy as comforter, counselor and friend. That is when my carefully guarded walls come crashing down and my heart is seized by an emotion greater than that which I have felt before.
That is when I realize my own selfish stupidity, my own awkward bubble that blinds me to the suffering of others. That is when my prideful egotism is shattered and I can think of no greater wish than to stop being me. I can accomplish no good, I can do nothing but hurt the ones I care for and pretend at what I do not know.
The world would be better off without me wasting its precious air. But whilst I am here, selfishly so, I'll do the best I can do. And that is to breathe, take a step back, and empathize.
When a boy tells me in the quite of his car that he stopped doing drugs when he nearly hung himself in front of his cousins.. .when a girl explains the horrors her mother went was put through as a child because of her Father and Uncle... when the most wonderful boy I've ever met is hated by his parents and my two dearest friends come to school bruised and broken because of domestic abuse... That is when I realize my own inadequacy as comforter, counselor and friend. That is when my carefully guarded walls come crashing down and my heart is seized by an emotion greater than that which I have felt before.
That is when I realize my own selfish stupidity, my own awkward bubble that blinds me to the suffering of others. That is when my prideful egotism is shattered and I can think of no greater wish than to stop being me. I can accomplish no good, I can do nothing but hurt the ones I care for and pretend at what I do not know.
The world would be better off without me wasting its precious air. But whilst I am here, selfishly so, I'll do the best I can do. And that is to breathe, take a step back, and empathize.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
The way I do
If I could change the world I would not wish for everyone's chances to be the same. I would not wish away poverty or pain. If our trails are our chance to grow, to develop and reach our goals, then give me more! I want to reach the stars! But to do that I need to climb over the mountain of trails that I've beat down and kicked over, and use them as my own personal staircase of success.
If I could wish for anything I might wish for the strength and endurance of a warrior. Then when challenges come my way I would meet them with a 22 gauge shotgun. When the time comes to evaluate my life's test I'd look the administrator in the eye and know that I passed with flying colors. I know that.
But I also know that people do not understand. There are people within the sound of my voice who would wish away the worlds sorrows. Please do not think that way.
Someone once said that the only difference between a stumbling block and a stepping stone is how you use it. If you believe that, then the people with the hardest trails are the ones that can rise highest above the world. They are the ones who will truely reach the Heavens, not I.
So look around you, see the world through new eyes. It is in soup kitchens and hospitals that the greatest human potential exists. It is in poverty and pain that the skies are opened up to us and our limiting shackles of selfishness removed.
If I could wish for anything, I would wish that people could see themselves that way, the way I do, and that would change the world.
If I could wish for anything I might wish for the strength and endurance of a warrior. Then when challenges come my way I would meet them with a 22 gauge shotgun. When the time comes to evaluate my life's test I'd look the administrator in the eye and know that I passed with flying colors. I know that.
But I also know that people do not understand. There are people within the sound of my voice who would wish away the worlds sorrows. Please do not think that way.
Someone once said that the only difference between a stumbling block and a stepping stone is how you use it. If you believe that, then the people with the hardest trails are the ones that can rise highest above the world. They are the ones who will truely reach the Heavens, not I.
So look around you, see the world through new eyes. It is in soup kitchens and hospitals that the greatest human potential exists. It is in poverty and pain that the skies are opened up to us and our limiting shackles of selfishness removed.
If I could wish for anything, I would wish that people could see themselves that way, the way I do, and that would change the world.
Spoken Word Poetry
I've discovered Sarah Kay's spoken word poetry. It's beautiful and inspiring and wonderful. Look her up on youtube especially "if I should have a daughter." Just so you know what's going on, I've decided to share some of my own poems here, even though they're meant to be performed. Just use your imagination for a little bit.
Friday, September 30, 2011
A future of promise
As the snow white ashes of a lofty dream destroyed, gently descend from their heavenly heights, a sweet peace blankets the desolate earth in it's memories. The stillness of the earth defines the swirling skies, giving them breadth and presence in an otherwise barren landscape of harsh cold and passionate warmth. Where once the constancy of moving form gave life to the stark towers that scrapped against the heavens, mighty in their symbols of power, silence grips their broken steal girders, relishing a sense of despair where once was none. Oh how the mighty do fall! So secure in their supposed earthly dominance, life gave way to omnipotent powers of destruction, forfeiting the rights of living they fought so valiantly for so many years ago. This is what it has come to. A broken sea of Rearden Steel, the works of the enlightened, the complacent, and the fallen, now brought to pass before the biting wind as a sacrifice upon the alter of pride.
Monday, August 29, 2011
A loving God
Hey guys!
Before I start this new post I just wanted to thank you all for your comments and support! It means a lot to me.
Alrighty.
So currently I am reading a fabulous book called 50 Philosophy Ideas you really need to know, and it's wonderful. It breaks things down and helps explain some really complex philosophical ideas and break them down into examples that are easy to understand. Even if you don't want to be a Philosophy Major, I'd suggest reading it.
So. Obviously, I haven't agreed with everything or even most of the things that I've read, but it's all been extremely enlightening. I was reading a quick blurb about religion and God and Evil, and I rushed to the computer to share my thoughts with you all. Isn't that exciting?
The chapter is called "The Problem of Evil" and it starts like this:
"Famine, murder, earthquake, disease- millions of people's futures blighted, young lives needlessly snuffed out, children left orphaned and helpless, agonizing deaths of young and old alike. If you could click your fingers and stop this catalogue of misery, you would have to be a heartless monster not to do so. Yet there is supposed to be a being that could sweep it all aside in an instant, a being that is unlimited in it's power, knowledge and moral excellence: God. Evil is everywhere, but how can it exist side by side with a god who has, by definition, the capacity to put an end to it? That thorny question is the core of the so-called 'problem of evil.'"
See why I'm excited?
Before I get into what I think on this theory, let me give you another quick little taste of the chapter.
"1. God is omniscient: it knows everything that it is logically possible to know.
2. God is omnipotent: it is able to do anything that it is logically possible to do.
3. God is omnibenevolent: it is of universal goodwill and desires to do every good thing that can possibly be done.
4. If God is omniscient, it is fully aware of all the pain and suffering that occurs.
5. If God is omnipotent, it is able to prevent all pain and suffering.
6. If God is omnibenevolent, it wishes to prevent all pain and suffering."
:) I love this stuff.
Okay. Here I go.
1, 2 and 3 are absolutely true. 4 and 5 are true too. 6 is even true! So what's the problem Rachel? Are you suddenly atheist? Those statements are supposed to disprove the existence of God as we know him.
Well never fear. I have not, nor ever will lose my faith. Opposition only makes us stronger.
Let me begin by saying this: God loves us. Were it not so, well, I'll get into that in a bit.
The world today does not know God anymore. They doubt his existence with what they call logic and reason, but those two potent forces will only ever prove in The Almighty.
God loves us. It is because he loves us that he allows the pain and suffering of the world. It is because he loves us that he does not snap his fingers and rid the world of all evil and pain.
If we take those first three statements, and we examine God in this way, things will quickly become clear. God knows everything there is to know. That is a trait that is logically possible to achieve and be the best at. As human beings we must concede that there is always someone smarter than us. Yes? Than Einstein himself waas not the smartest being in the universe, and there must be someone smarter than him. Following this train of logic it becomes apparent that there must be one being who is the smartest, who is omniscient, who knows everything there is to know.
God is Omnipotent. He has the power to do anything, create anything, at will. This means he also has the power to destroy anything at will. Such as the evil in the world. BUT HE DOES NOT. Why? Because he is also Omnibenevolent.
Think of all our trite little human sayings,
"that which does not kill you makes you stronger"
"no pain no gain"
"we learn from our mistakes"
"it took Edison 1000 times to make a lightbulb"
And so on and so forth. Each of those is a little fragment of truth that we have brought with us in our souls; that pain and suffering shape and improve us. Trails are an opportunity to grow. Adversity can be used as a stepping stone instead of a stumbling block.
We learn and improve through the refiners fire, to become the precious gem that God wants so desperately for us to become. To take away the evil, the sorrows, and the hard times, takes away our opportunity for growth.
Think about it like this. If you had a perfect life, you made plenty of money, you had a successful career and/or a happy family, you loved what you did, you had great friends, you lived in a wonderful neighborhood, you could do whatever you wanted all day long and had no responsibility… wouldn't it be awful? You would become stagnant. When your life is perfect, there is no need to improve or change or grow. It is only when things get tough that we step back and assess ourselves. That is when we recognize our constant need for improvement and change.
The second reason God does not snap his fingers and make the world a perfect place, is because he has given us agency. We are completely free to chose whatever we want. We can become an astronaut, a millionaire, a hobo, a sleaze-ball in prison, or a McDonalds employee. It is up to us. We can get that 4.0 in school, or cut classes every day and drop out. We can go to the gym every morning, or smoke a cigarette instead. The choice is ours, while the consequences are not.
God is not only benevolent, he is just. Which is why he did not strike Hitler with a lightning blot, or stop the many wars. The wicked people in this world must be able to carry out their evil intentions to be fully judged before God.
But back to tonight's theme.
One of my favorite (this is going to sound bad) examples of God's never ending love for us is the story of Noah. Now let me explain myself. The people on earth at the time were so shockingly wicked, that because God loved them so terribly much, he could not stand to let themselves do what they were doing. Because he loved them he flooded the earth so that they could not continue to ruin their eternal souls with the crimes that they were committing. That has only ever happened once in the history of our world, and God has promised that it will never happen again.
So many people read that same story and are struck by God's terrible wrath, anger and vengeance, but they are wrong. God wept that day. I know he did. Because God knew what they were doing, and what their consequences would be. Because he loved them, he took them off the earth so that they could not continue to damn themselves.
I love Philosophy. I love looking at all the different angles from the perspective of what I know to be true, and I testify that God is a loving God. Were it not so, Adam and Eve would still be in the Garden, stagnate forever, never moving forward, never taking one step closer to becoming like God, the way he wants each of us to.
Thanks for reading guys.
Before I start this new post I just wanted to thank you all for your comments and support! It means a lot to me.
Alrighty.
So currently I am reading a fabulous book called 50 Philosophy Ideas you really need to know, and it's wonderful. It breaks things down and helps explain some really complex philosophical ideas and break them down into examples that are easy to understand. Even if you don't want to be a Philosophy Major, I'd suggest reading it.
So. Obviously, I haven't agreed with everything or even most of the things that I've read, but it's all been extremely enlightening. I was reading a quick blurb about religion and God and Evil, and I rushed to the computer to share my thoughts with you all. Isn't that exciting?
The chapter is called "The Problem of Evil" and it starts like this:
"Famine, murder, earthquake, disease- millions of people's futures blighted, young lives needlessly snuffed out, children left orphaned and helpless, agonizing deaths of young and old alike. If you could click your fingers and stop this catalogue of misery, you would have to be a heartless monster not to do so. Yet there is supposed to be a being that could sweep it all aside in an instant, a being that is unlimited in it's power, knowledge and moral excellence: God. Evil is everywhere, but how can it exist side by side with a god who has, by definition, the capacity to put an end to it? That thorny question is the core of the so-called 'problem of evil.'"
See why I'm excited?
Before I get into what I think on this theory, let me give you another quick little taste of the chapter.
"1. God is omniscient: it knows everything that it is logically possible to know.
2. God is omnipotent: it is able to do anything that it is logically possible to do.
3. God is omnibenevolent: it is of universal goodwill and desires to do every good thing that can possibly be done.
4. If God is omniscient, it is fully aware of all the pain and suffering that occurs.
5. If God is omnipotent, it is able to prevent all pain and suffering.
6. If God is omnibenevolent, it wishes to prevent all pain and suffering."
:) I love this stuff.
Okay. Here I go.
1, 2 and 3 are absolutely true. 4 and 5 are true too. 6 is even true! So what's the problem Rachel? Are you suddenly atheist? Those statements are supposed to disprove the existence of God as we know him.
Well never fear. I have not, nor ever will lose my faith. Opposition only makes us stronger.
Let me begin by saying this: God loves us. Were it not so, well, I'll get into that in a bit.
The world today does not know God anymore. They doubt his existence with what they call logic and reason, but those two potent forces will only ever prove in The Almighty.
God loves us. It is because he loves us that he allows the pain and suffering of the world. It is because he loves us that he does not snap his fingers and rid the world of all evil and pain.
If we take those first three statements, and we examine God in this way, things will quickly become clear. God knows everything there is to know. That is a trait that is logically possible to achieve and be the best at. As human beings we must concede that there is always someone smarter than us. Yes? Than Einstein himself waas not the smartest being in the universe, and there must be someone smarter than him. Following this train of logic it becomes apparent that there must be one being who is the smartest, who is omniscient, who knows everything there is to know.
God is Omnipotent. He has the power to do anything, create anything, at will. This means he also has the power to destroy anything at will. Such as the evil in the world. BUT HE DOES NOT. Why? Because he is also Omnibenevolent.
Think of all our trite little human sayings,
"that which does not kill you makes you stronger"
"no pain no gain"
"we learn from our mistakes"
"it took Edison 1000 times to make a lightbulb"
And so on and so forth. Each of those is a little fragment of truth that we have brought with us in our souls; that pain and suffering shape and improve us. Trails are an opportunity to grow. Adversity can be used as a stepping stone instead of a stumbling block.
We learn and improve through the refiners fire, to become the precious gem that God wants so desperately for us to become. To take away the evil, the sorrows, and the hard times, takes away our opportunity for growth.
Think about it like this. If you had a perfect life, you made plenty of money, you had a successful career and/or a happy family, you loved what you did, you had great friends, you lived in a wonderful neighborhood, you could do whatever you wanted all day long and had no responsibility… wouldn't it be awful? You would become stagnant. When your life is perfect, there is no need to improve or change or grow. It is only when things get tough that we step back and assess ourselves. That is when we recognize our constant need for improvement and change.
The second reason God does not snap his fingers and make the world a perfect place, is because he has given us agency. We are completely free to chose whatever we want. We can become an astronaut, a millionaire, a hobo, a sleaze-ball in prison, or a McDonalds employee. It is up to us. We can get that 4.0 in school, or cut classes every day and drop out. We can go to the gym every morning, or smoke a cigarette instead. The choice is ours, while the consequences are not.
God is not only benevolent, he is just. Which is why he did not strike Hitler with a lightning blot, or stop the many wars. The wicked people in this world must be able to carry out their evil intentions to be fully judged before God.
But back to tonight's theme.
One of my favorite (this is going to sound bad) examples of God's never ending love for us is the story of Noah. Now let me explain myself. The people on earth at the time were so shockingly wicked, that because God loved them so terribly much, he could not stand to let themselves do what they were doing. Because he loved them he flooded the earth so that they could not continue to ruin their eternal souls with the crimes that they were committing. That has only ever happened once in the history of our world, and God has promised that it will never happen again.
So many people read that same story and are struck by God's terrible wrath, anger and vengeance, but they are wrong. God wept that day. I know he did. Because God knew what they were doing, and what their consequences would be. Because he loved them, he took them off the earth so that they could not continue to damn themselves.
I love Philosophy. I love looking at all the different angles from the perspective of what I know to be true, and I testify that God is a loving God. Were it not so, Adam and Eve would still be in the Garden, stagnate forever, never moving forward, never taking one step closer to becoming like God, the way he wants each of us to.
Thanks for reading guys.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Eureka!
I've figured out what I want to do in college (though all plans are, of course, subject to change) and I'm excited!
I was with my best friend Miranda and she was showing me her classes for BYU next semester, and we started looking at different majors. I got a little curious and discovered that a Philosophy Major only takes 47 hours. The suggested Minors list said "Logic" (which I didn't even know was a class) and it only takes 15 hours. So I wanted to Major in Philosophy and Minor in Logic. That sounds pretty fun to me.
But then I had another idea!
If those were all I did, my college years might me a tad shorter than everyone else's, and that's no fun. So I wanted to add something. But what?
Physics.
That's right.
I am going to double Major in Philosophy and Physics, and Minor in Logic.
Everyone's first reaction is, "Wow! …. okay." Followed by a, "How do you intend to make a career out of that?"
I don't. That's what a Cosmetology license is for.
See, here's the thing. I can plan it all out carefully and earn a degree in something impressive that will serve me well in life and help me get a successful career that I can fall back on to support myself and or my future family and blah blah blah. OR I can do something that makes me absurdly happy just thinking about it, as well as making me feel truly successful.
What is better than to learn all that I can about the deepest mysteries in life? If all I want is to learn something new and exciting every moment of every day, what better way to do it?
So yes. I am ridiculously excited now. I'm even going to try and get a jump on it and take an AP Physics class this year instead of Painting.
:) This wasn't much of a blog post, I realize, but I"m excited about it so I had to share. Sorry guys! I'll try and think up something more interesting for next time.
I was with my best friend Miranda and she was showing me her classes for BYU next semester, and we started looking at different majors. I got a little curious and discovered that a Philosophy Major only takes 47 hours. The suggested Minors list said "Logic" (which I didn't even know was a class) and it only takes 15 hours. So I wanted to Major in Philosophy and Minor in Logic. That sounds pretty fun to me.
But then I had another idea!
If those were all I did, my college years might me a tad shorter than everyone else's, and that's no fun. So I wanted to add something. But what?
Physics.
That's right.
I am going to double Major in Philosophy and Physics, and Minor in Logic.
Everyone's first reaction is, "Wow! …. okay." Followed by a, "How do you intend to make a career out of that?"
I don't. That's what a Cosmetology license is for.
See, here's the thing. I can plan it all out carefully and earn a degree in something impressive that will serve me well in life and help me get a successful career that I can fall back on to support myself and or my future family and blah blah blah. OR I can do something that makes me absurdly happy just thinking about it, as well as making me feel truly successful.
What is better than to learn all that I can about the deepest mysteries in life? If all I want is to learn something new and exciting every moment of every day, what better way to do it?
So yes. I am ridiculously excited now. I'm even going to try and get a jump on it and take an AP Physics class this year instead of Painting.
:) This wasn't much of a blog post, I realize, but I"m excited about it so I had to share. Sorry guys! I'll try and think up something more interesting for next time.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Music Speaks the Truth
There's something about music, wouldn't you say? It somehow cuts through all of the worlds nonsense and confusion and speaks to our souls. My director always says, "Music Speaks the Truth." And it does!
Right now I've been playing the piano quite a lot as well as being in two choirs and Musical Theatre, so I've been very exposed to it lately and learned so much. I've learned it takes work. If the music is conveying a message, but you and your body language or facial expressions are not, then you're basically lying and it comes off false and shallow.
So taking that knowledge, I think that we underestimate the power that music has in our society and the source for good it can be. If we like an artist, or one song really speaks to us, the connection that is made is a connection in our very soul. That is why there is such a hero worship of musicians, because the fans feel like they are understood and accepted by the music their particular musician has portrayed to them.
Music also has tremendous political power. A catchy tune can get stuck in your head and be reapeated all day on the radio and on tv. The words become ingrained, like subliminal messages stuck on replay. The words can weaken our thoughts, ideas, arguments and convictions, or they can strengthen them. But to say that the music we listen to doesn't affect us is either a blatant lie, or a gross misunderstanding.
Just a thought.
Right now I've been playing the piano quite a lot as well as being in two choirs and Musical Theatre, so I've been very exposed to it lately and learned so much. I've learned it takes work. If the music is conveying a message, but you and your body language or facial expressions are not, then you're basically lying and it comes off false and shallow.
So taking that knowledge, I think that we underestimate the power that music has in our society and the source for good it can be. If we like an artist, or one song really speaks to us, the connection that is made is a connection in our very soul. That is why there is such a hero worship of musicians, because the fans feel like they are understood and accepted by the music their particular musician has portrayed to them.
Music also has tremendous political power. A catchy tune can get stuck in your head and be reapeated all day on the radio and on tv. The words become ingrained, like subliminal messages stuck on replay. The words can weaken our thoughts, ideas, arguments and convictions, or they can strengthen them. But to say that the music we listen to doesn't affect us is either a blatant lie, or a gross misunderstanding.
Just a thought.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Objectivism
I've just had an epiphany.
I finished reading Atlas Shrugged last night and I'm completely enraptured with the philosophy of Objectivism. So since then I've been researching it and listening to lectures and the like. It's absolutely fascinating and I love it.
The ideas are simple and concise and I agree with all of them except one. And that is where my discovery began.
Objectivism states that A is A. There are no contradictions in life. Existence exists and that we as humans cannot escape it. Objectivists reject all form of mystisism and the idea that the supernatural can interject and change reality, because A is A and cannot exist as non-A at the same time. You can't have your cake and eat it too. Reality is not something that anyone or anything can change because they will it or wish it to be another way. Because of this Objectivism requires Atheism.
Well, being a deeply religious person myself I began to ponder this idea. Objectivism makes total sense, it just seems so right. But I know there is a God, and there can be no contradictions in life.
That was when I realized that there isn't a contradiction here! The God I know can fit quite nicely into everything that Objectivism declares.
You see, this is what I believe.
I believe that there was a life before this one: a pre-mortal existence in which we knew God the Father and he knew us. But that existence was not to be the final step in the scheme of the eternities. Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ created the Universe and the Heavens as well as a type of Hell or Outer Darkness. Because he knew us so implicitly I believe that he knew exactly which realm our souls would be qualified to reside in for eternity but he couldn't just go around saying, "Congratulations you are going to make it to Heaven." And, "Sorry, you won't make the cut." to us without proving it to us himself because God is a God of Reason.
In order to prove to us during the Final Judgment that he is a Just God, we were sent to earth with no memory of our life before; this that we may see for ourselves at the end of our lives the true condition of our souls.
Here is where the connection to Objectivism is made. According to its axiom that Existence exists, that reality cannot be changed or altered even by a God, I agree. But I submit that there is in fact a God and a reality that co-exist without contradiction!
The Bible tells us that God exist beyond time, that time is a mortal concept, not an eternal one. And when one looks deep into the concept of time itself with all it's complexity and seemingly irrationality, that is not hard for me to accept. It is man that travels in a straight line all his life, while nature constantly cycles. This is another belief of Objectivism. That mans course is a line, not a circle. Therefore his experience and reality on earth is that of a straight line, a continuous stream of time.
I believe that God operates on a different level. Einstein said that it was possibly that the past and the present exist simultaneously, so why not the future as well? I believe that God see's everything as it was, is, and will be. But he does not need to interfere! God knows us implicitly. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows us so well that he can know without any doubt every decision that we will ever make in our lives, and to give us our agency and to carry out the fulfillment of Justice, he does not interfere. Knowing the heart of a dictator or murderer, he could simply reach out his hand and stop terrible things from happening, but he does not! This so that we may face the full reality of our choices, the consequences of the path we choose.
Objectivism also states that there are no miracles because the definition of a miracle is something that could not have been possible before that is brought about by a supernatural force or intervention. I say that life's course is already known to God and he does not change it because it has already been set in motion in full detail by himself. Every "miracle" that happens, for there are things on this earth that I would define as miracles, has already been planned for and set in motion.
To pray is not a useless attempt as Objectivists suggest, neither because there is no God nor because he will not help you. To pray is to show recognition to him who you owe everything. To pray for strength or help is right. God will answer your prayers for the simple reason that he knew you would pray. Because he knows you better than you know yourself. Extending the blessings of your righteousness to you is not an intervention by God that changes reality. It is the carrying out of reality itself.
I am only a seventeen year old girl. I have only studied Objectvism for a short time, maybe a week or so, but this is what I know. I know that man's purpose on earth is not suffering and pain, but happiness. I know that there is a reality with consequences to the choices that we make. I know that reason and logic are the standards by which I judge everything in life, and I know that Objectivism embraces all these things. Yet I also know that there is a God. I know this in the ways the Objectivism requires all knowledge: through my five senses. I have heard his voice and felt his presence and seen his hand. I know he is there. I know that there are no contradictions in life. I found one, checked my premises and discovered that it was never there to begin with.
This is my epiphany. One day I hope to explain my new-found knowledge to an Objectivist and see how they take my idea's. I know that I'm right. I know it. Though I'm not yet articulate in the ways of philosophy I ask you to use your own judgment, with the soundness of your mind which is a tool that only you can use to judge the truth, and discover for yourself what you think about this life, whether you think as I do or not. The important thing is that you not only have an opinion, but believe it passionately and understand it thoroughly.
Because of these new ideas that have been introduced into my life, I'm a changed person for good and for the better.
Who knows? Maybe one day I'll be teaching my new Philosophy as a professor and spreading my ideas to the world? For now I have my blog. My Desiderata.
I finished reading Atlas Shrugged last night and I'm completely enraptured with the philosophy of Objectivism. So since then I've been researching it and listening to lectures and the like. It's absolutely fascinating and I love it.
The ideas are simple and concise and I agree with all of them except one. And that is where my discovery began.
Objectivism states that A is A. There are no contradictions in life. Existence exists and that we as humans cannot escape it. Objectivists reject all form of mystisism and the idea that the supernatural can interject and change reality, because A is A and cannot exist as non-A at the same time. You can't have your cake and eat it too. Reality is not something that anyone or anything can change because they will it or wish it to be another way. Because of this Objectivism requires Atheism.
Well, being a deeply religious person myself I began to ponder this idea. Objectivism makes total sense, it just seems so right. But I know there is a God, and there can be no contradictions in life.
That was when I realized that there isn't a contradiction here! The God I know can fit quite nicely into everything that Objectivism declares.
You see, this is what I believe.
I believe that there was a life before this one: a pre-mortal existence in which we knew God the Father and he knew us. But that existence was not to be the final step in the scheme of the eternities. Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ created the Universe and the Heavens as well as a type of Hell or Outer Darkness. Because he knew us so implicitly I believe that he knew exactly which realm our souls would be qualified to reside in for eternity but he couldn't just go around saying, "Congratulations you are going to make it to Heaven." And, "Sorry, you won't make the cut." to us without proving it to us himself because God is a God of Reason.
In order to prove to us during the Final Judgment that he is a Just God, we were sent to earth with no memory of our life before; this that we may see for ourselves at the end of our lives the true condition of our souls.
Here is where the connection to Objectivism is made. According to its axiom that Existence exists, that reality cannot be changed or altered even by a God, I agree. But I submit that there is in fact a God and a reality that co-exist without contradiction!
The Bible tells us that God exist beyond time, that time is a mortal concept, not an eternal one. And when one looks deep into the concept of time itself with all it's complexity and seemingly irrationality, that is not hard for me to accept. It is man that travels in a straight line all his life, while nature constantly cycles. This is another belief of Objectivism. That mans course is a line, not a circle. Therefore his experience and reality on earth is that of a straight line, a continuous stream of time.
I believe that God operates on a different level. Einstein said that it was possibly that the past and the present exist simultaneously, so why not the future as well? I believe that God see's everything as it was, is, and will be. But he does not need to interfere! God knows us implicitly. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows us so well that he can know without any doubt every decision that we will ever make in our lives, and to give us our agency and to carry out the fulfillment of Justice, he does not interfere. Knowing the heart of a dictator or murderer, he could simply reach out his hand and stop terrible things from happening, but he does not! This so that we may face the full reality of our choices, the consequences of the path we choose.
Objectivism also states that there are no miracles because the definition of a miracle is something that could not have been possible before that is brought about by a supernatural force or intervention. I say that life's course is already known to God and he does not change it because it has already been set in motion in full detail by himself. Every "miracle" that happens, for there are things on this earth that I would define as miracles, has already been planned for and set in motion.
To pray is not a useless attempt as Objectivists suggest, neither because there is no God nor because he will not help you. To pray is to show recognition to him who you owe everything. To pray for strength or help is right. God will answer your prayers for the simple reason that he knew you would pray. Because he knows you better than you know yourself. Extending the blessings of your righteousness to you is not an intervention by God that changes reality. It is the carrying out of reality itself.
I am only a seventeen year old girl. I have only studied Objectvism for a short time, maybe a week or so, but this is what I know. I know that man's purpose on earth is not suffering and pain, but happiness. I know that there is a reality with consequences to the choices that we make. I know that reason and logic are the standards by which I judge everything in life, and I know that Objectivism embraces all these things. Yet I also know that there is a God. I know this in the ways the Objectivism requires all knowledge: through my five senses. I have heard his voice and felt his presence and seen his hand. I know he is there. I know that there are no contradictions in life. I found one, checked my premises and discovered that it was never there to begin with.
This is my epiphany. One day I hope to explain my new-found knowledge to an Objectivist and see how they take my idea's. I know that I'm right. I know it. Though I'm not yet articulate in the ways of philosophy I ask you to use your own judgment, with the soundness of your mind which is a tool that only you can use to judge the truth, and discover for yourself what you think about this life, whether you think as I do or not. The important thing is that you not only have an opinion, but believe it passionately and understand it thoroughly.
Because of these new ideas that have been introduced into my life, I'm a changed person for good and for the better.
Who knows? Maybe one day I'll be teaching my new Philosophy as a professor and spreading my ideas to the world? For now I have my blog. My Desiderata.
Monday, July 18, 2011
NaNoWriMo
NaNoWriMo is almost upon us!
It's a little bit scary to think about, if I'm being honest.
For those of you who don't know what it is..... shame on you.
NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. For the entire month of November crazy writers all over the world circle the wagons and commit to writing an entire 50,000 word novel in 30 days. That's a big freaking deal. To accomplish such insanity one much write a consistent 1667 words per day. (Whether you are inspired or not, which is the challenge.)
Last year I participated, but because I was also in a musical at the time I procrastinated much of my writing, sometimes not writing at all for a few days. Which meant by the end I had to write 20,000 words in 4 days. That was an adventure...
My family had a great time too! I lived on the computer and refused to do anything else, forgetting the necessities of food and sleep, while basically obsessing over this insane goal I had set for myself. My poor family didn't see much of me that fateful November. They were pretty sick of NaNoWriMo once it was done. But that is beside the point!
THE POINT of this outrageous and borderline impossible challenge is the challenge itself. In the same way that my favorite comedian Eddie Izzard ran 43 marathons in 51 days, it's going to hurt. The process, though not involving blisters or freezing rain, is a painful one. You'll find yourself having said what you planned to say, with half your book left. So you end up pulling new plot lines and characters out of your bum, and many times being shocked at how perfectly it all falls into place.
It's a marathon of the mind, not intended for the faint of heart. In fact, it's such a daunting task that I'm already looking forward to it... and it's only July!
So yeah. If you've got a love of writing, or you're just a crazy lunatic who likes to challenge yourself (I'm a bit of both) then do it. Go to the NaNoWriMo website and pledge your allegiance! Then, who knows? By the end of the month you may have written a novel, all by yourself. So you can introduce yourself like this, "Hello. My name is blankety blank. And I write a novel in one month. I'm a novelist, that's right."
Eternal Glory awaits you at the finish line. As well as brownie points and bragging rights forever.
It's a little bit scary to think about, if I'm being honest.
For those of you who don't know what it is..... shame on you.
NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. For the entire month of November crazy writers all over the world circle the wagons and commit to writing an entire 50,000 word novel in 30 days. That's a big freaking deal. To accomplish such insanity one much write a consistent 1667 words per day. (Whether you are inspired or not, which is the challenge.)
Last year I participated, but because I was also in a musical at the time I procrastinated much of my writing, sometimes not writing at all for a few days. Which meant by the end I had to write 20,000 words in 4 days. That was an adventure...
My family had a great time too! I lived on the computer and refused to do anything else, forgetting the necessities of food and sleep, while basically obsessing over this insane goal I had set for myself. My poor family didn't see much of me that fateful November. They were pretty sick of NaNoWriMo once it was done. But that is beside the point!
THE POINT of this outrageous and borderline impossible challenge is the challenge itself. In the same way that my favorite comedian Eddie Izzard ran 43 marathons in 51 days, it's going to hurt. The process, though not involving blisters or freezing rain, is a painful one. You'll find yourself having said what you planned to say, with half your book left. So you end up pulling new plot lines and characters out of your bum, and many times being shocked at how perfectly it all falls into place.
It's a marathon of the mind, not intended for the faint of heart. In fact, it's such a daunting task that I'm already looking forward to it... and it's only July!
So yeah. If you've got a love of writing, or you're just a crazy lunatic who likes to challenge yourself (I'm a bit of both) then do it. Go to the NaNoWriMo website and pledge your allegiance! Then, who knows? By the end of the month you may have written a novel, all by yourself. So you can introduce yourself like this, "Hello. My name is blankety blank. And I write a novel in one month. I'm a novelist, that's right."
Eternal Glory awaits you at the finish line. As well as brownie points and bragging rights forever.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Atlas Shrugged
Hey everyone! I know it's been forever, but I've had some crazy stuff going on. Everything is right with the world once more so I thought I'd resume my blogging which I've so sadly neglected.
Right now I'm reading a fabulous book called Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. I havn't gotten through it yet and I am absolutly desperate to know "Who is John Galt?" but that will have to wait. For now I've contented myself with observing all the little details of the society that Ayn Rand has created, and it's a little bit scary.
In this new place everyone acts for the good of society as a whole. Business and greed are considered crass and undignified, as it doing something soley to make money. The majority of people there are fools. They fear hard and fast facts and when faced with a yes or no question they hem and haw and beat around the bush to avoid answering. These idiots run the world. They fear the power of politicians and the peoples opinions mean everything to them.
It creates a lot of interesting problems for everybody. People become cunning and malicious, yet wholly stupid. If it doesn't seem to benefit the world as a whole, they don't do it or care about it, even if it something good and necessary. They're running themselves into the ground.
As well as being moronic, they are extremily apathetic. This apathy in part comes from not wanting to take the blame for anything. If they never take action, they can never be blamed for doing something wrong. It's always someone else who can take care of it, and in this way nohting gets done.
It's an odd senario in the fact that it is both far fetched and already a realtiy.
We're apathetic. We're silly people who care far too much about ourselves and our individual causes to see the bigger picture. We often miss the simple things that make the most difference. Common sense is no longer common.
When talking about Politics we wish for equality in all things when we should be wishing for an Equaltiy of Opportunity instead. In Business we wish to eliminate Monopolies, yet encourage competition, which caps the limit of sucess one man can acheive from his hard work. In life we wish for things to be fair, when in reality the only fairness we can ever acheive is that equality of oppurtunity.
It's a frustrating thing to see the world and the direction it is headed in. It often makes me wish that more people would only stop and think and observe.
Leonardo da Vinci once lamented that too many people Look without Seeing, Listen without Hearing, Eat without Tasting, and Touch without Feeling. If we could all just take a moment of silence and listen, we might learn something.
As far as apathy goes, I beileve that the worst kind of man is the man without a purpose. That is one definition of apathy itself. Why should I do it when it's someone else's job? It's not my problem. We need people in this world who are doers. We need the kind of people who take it upon themselves to make a difference. Ghandi once said, "Be the change you want to see in the world."
We are a doing people. We have dreams and aspirations and work hard towards our goals. When we want something in life, we will not be content to sit back and dream. We make our dreams a reality. In this way we are not so very much like Ayn Rand's world. As long as we remain proud of ourselves and our accomplishements, as long as we never give up or settle, as long as we can truely see and hear the world around us, we have nothing to fear.
Right now I'm reading a fabulous book called Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. I havn't gotten through it yet and I am absolutly desperate to know "Who is John Galt?" but that will have to wait. For now I've contented myself with observing all the little details of the society that Ayn Rand has created, and it's a little bit scary.
In this new place everyone acts for the good of society as a whole. Business and greed are considered crass and undignified, as it doing something soley to make money. The majority of people there are fools. They fear hard and fast facts and when faced with a yes or no question they hem and haw and beat around the bush to avoid answering. These idiots run the world. They fear the power of politicians and the peoples opinions mean everything to them.
It creates a lot of interesting problems for everybody. People become cunning and malicious, yet wholly stupid. If it doesn't seem to benefit the world as a whole, they don't do it or care about it, even if it something good and necessary. They're running themselves into the ground.
As well as being moronic, they are extremily apathetic. This apathy in part comes from not wanting to take the blame for anything. If they never take action, they can never be blamed for doing something wrong. It's always someone else who can take care of it, and in this way nohting gets done.
It's an odd senario in the fact that it is both far fetched and already a realtiy.
We're apathetic. We're silly people who care far too much about ourselves and our individual causes to see the bigger picture. We often miss the simple things that make the most difference. Common sense is no longer common.
When talking about Politics we wish for equality in all things when we should be wishing for an Equaltiy of Opportunity instead. In Business we wish to eliminate Monopolies, yet encourage competition, which caps the limit of sucess one man can acheive from his hard work. In life we wish for things to be fair, when in reality the only fairness we can ever acheive is that equality of oppurtunity.
It's a frustrating thing to see the world and the direction it is headed in. It often makes me wish that more people would only stop and think and observe.
Leonardo da Vinci once lamented that too many people Look without Seeing, Listen without Hearing, Eat without Tasting, and Touch without Feeling. If we could all just take a moment of silence and listen, we might learn something.
As far as apathy goes, I beileve that the worst kind of man is the man without a purpose. That is one definition of apathy itself. Why should I do it when it's someone else's job? It's not my problem. We need people in this world who are doers. We need the kind of people who take it upon themselves to make a difference. Ghandi once said, "Be the change you want to see in the world."
We are a doing people. We have dreams and aspirations and work hard towards our goals. When we want something in life, we will not be content to sit back and dream. We make our dreams a reality. In this way we are not so very much like Ayn Rand's world. As long as we remain proud of ourselves and our accomplishements, as long as we never give up or settle, as long as we can truely see and hear the world around us, we have nothing to fear.
Monday, June 6, 2011
The Alphabet Book
You know how the Alphabet books have all the same pictures? Well I've never seen half of them in my life. But you know what I saw yesterday? A Quail! I real life Quail! It had the little whoopdy black head curl thing and everything! It was amazing. I didn't know they really existed.
So I was wondering: Fact or Fiction? How many things in the Alphabet have you actually seen? Here's another one. I for Ink with the picture of the little black inkwell thing.
So anyways, I love how often there are coincidences in life. I just posted "Truth" which is about what we really know in life, and I've had five conversations about that same topic since then. It's been really exciting because it's helped me get super in depth with the story I'm writing, and how to push the message through that I'm looking for.
I'm also writing a book on twitter! One post at a time :) Probably around one every day or two, just a quick sentence (140 characters) that will turn into a book. Exciting, no?
So lots of things coming up. I'll post links and things here. It's going to be a fun summer.
So I was wondering: Fact or Fiction? How many things in the Alphabet have you actually seen? Here's another one. I for Ink with the picture of the little black inkwell thing.
So anyways, I love how often there are coincidences in life. I just posted "Truth" which is about what we really know in life, and I've had five conversations about that same topic since then. It's been really exciting because it's helped me get super in depth with the story I'm writing, and how to push the message through that I'm looking for.
I'm also writing a book on twitter! One post at a time :) Probably around one every day or two, just a quick sentence (140 characters) that will turn into a book. Exciting, no?
So lots of things coming up. I'll post links and things here. It's going to be a fun summer.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Truth
I'm writing a story currently and it's brought up an interesting question. What do we really know?
It's about (without saying too much) a girl who was raised to believe that she has a demon inside of her vying for control. She was taught that every time she made a mistake or sinned, it gave the demon a greater control over her.
Not a hugely fascinating or deep idea, but while going through some characterizations with her I realized the dilemma. We only know what we are taught.
The Laminates in ancient America were taught by the "wicked traditions of their fathers" but that is what they knew to be correct. How could they be blamed?
What if we don't know what we think we know?
I've had a few different discussions on the subject of "truth." Can you have a knowledge of something that is not true? One of the men I was arguing with said you cannot, but I think that you can. Hundreds of years ago people knew that the earth was flat. They knew it. It was the knowledge of the time. There's nothing wrong with that, their idea was just not correct.
Science is a constant cycle of that same idea. We have our theories and laws until we learn more and gain a deeper understanding that proves our old ideas to be false. So we revise the textbooks and move on.
This causes me to wonder... what do we know now that isn't true? I'm sure there are the theories of the universe, how it was created and things of that nature that we just don't have any clue about. But what about our every day things? We have our basic ideas of what is right and what is wrong, but so did the Laminates. Now, I have my religion, obviously, and I believe in the things that I choose to believe. But assuming that one religion is more correct than another is to say that what other people know to be "truth" is incorrect.
It's sort of a scary thought, isn't it?
What do we know? What is truth? Maybe the earth really is flat. Who knows?
It's about (without saying too much) a girl who was raised to believe that she has a demon inside of her vying for control. She was taught that every time she made a mistake or sinned, it gave the demon a greater control over her.
Not a hugely fascinating or deep idea, but while going through some characterizations with her I realized the dilemma. We only know what we are taught.
The Laminates in ancient America were taught by the "wicked traditions of their fathers" but that is what they knew to be correct. How could they be blamed?
What if we don't know what we think we know?
I've had a few different discussions on the subject of "truth." Can you have a knowledge of something that is not true? One of the men I was arguing with said you cannot, but I think that you can. Hundreds of years ago people knew that the earth was flat. They knew it. It was the knowledge of the time. There's nothing wrong with that, their idea was just not correct.
Science is a constant cycle of that same idea. We have our theories and laws until we learn more and gain a deeper understanding that proves our old ideas to be false. So we revise the textbooks and move on.
This causes me to wonder... what do we know now that isn't true? I'm sure there are the theories of the universe, how it was created and things of that nature that we just don't have any clue about. But what about our every day things? We have our basic ideas of what is right and what is wrong, but so did the Laminates. Now, I have my religion, obviously, and I believe in the things that I choose to believe. But assuming that one religion is more correct than another is to say that what other people know to be "truth" is incorrect.
It's sort of a scary thought, isn't it?
What do we know? What is truth? Maybe the earth really is flat. Who knows?
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
For Miranda
My dearest Miranda,
Oh the things I could tell you. But mostly, why are you leaving me?! -insert sad face here- We just met and now you're going off to graduate without me. But that's okay. I'm excited for you to get the change to move on and get out of the hole that is the public education system. Ha.
I'm younger than you, I know, but I'm not so young that I can't recognize the opportunity to give some advice.
First: You're still young. You have your entire life ahead of you to live and enjoy. Your dreams have years to grow and be realized and come to fruition. Who are you to say that you are not destined for greatness, renown, and the chance to change the world? You cannot see beyond today what marvelous things await you. But I know that there is greatness in your future. I am a fortune teller after all. So don't lost heart. Never stop honing your craft. Words are the tool by which you will gain the hearts of the world. They are your alone to shape and form into weapons or healing hands. You can use them to lift others or bring them to an awareness of their own misery. No matter what you do, I know you will use the incredible power that you possess. And I know you will use it wisely.
Do not forget either that your music can be the key to unlocking the soul. Music will open people up so that they let you in and trust you. In some ways your musical talent will be more potent than words ever could be, and you will need this for yours days ahead.
Second: Be cheerful. Strive to be happy. Remember to focus on the positive in life. Learn and remember how to laugh at yourself. Don't ever forget or belittle the beautiful things in life by focusing on the sadness, loneliness or heartache. With all it's sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
I remember when I first met you in MDT. We were rehearsing and I shook your hand on stage to introduce myself as Ellen Natalia Shine. I had no idea then who you really were or how close we would become.
I remember tear-filled nights of rehearsing Lifeboats, and once you gave me a massage so deep I felt it for days. Haha. I invited you over to a "party" and that was the day I really met you. You stated late after the rest had gone and we talked for what felt like hours. That was the first day that I began to hope. I hoped that I might have actually found a real friend. Someone who might actually understand me. Who might actually like the same strange things that I did.
We liked the same books, movies, architecture, people, philosophies, twisted endings, words and poetry. I was floored. Completely shell-shocked. Completely happy.
You're amazing and fabulous and wonderful and I love you so much! Remember me when you are rich and famous. Always know that even if we grow apart, we'll always be friends. Don't forget about me. I sure won't ever forget you, the one person I've ever been this close to, ever had so much in common with. Even if our friendship is only to be a brief spot of sunshine in the black hole that is high school, it's something that I wouldn't trade for anything. Ever.
Now you understand why a tiny space in your yearbook wasn't enough for me. I have too much to say to you. I'm too grateful to have met you. I couldn't fully express it in even an entire yearbook page. You made moving to Lehi worth while for me because I found a real friend. As corny as that sounds, you're my best friend. Now I don't need you to feel like I'm your best friend in the whole world, but I want you to know that you're as close as anyone has ever gotten to mine. Probably as close as anyone will ever come.
I'm so glad to have met you, you wonderful, talented, beautiful girl.
I won't tell you not to change because I would never take away the potential that you have, that I see in you. So change. Grow and experience life, good and bad. Enjoy every moment and sing in the rain. Notice the beauty in the fullness of summer, and the stark winter. Have pic-nics, write pointless songs about sunshine. Paint the walls, remember who you are. Never tune out natures song. It plays only for you, exactly when you need it most. Smile, even when you don't feel like smiling. Don't be afraid to cry, and don't shy away from the hard things in life. They will make you stronger. Don't forget me.
You're going to have a blast with this new phase of you life. Always know who your true friends are and who you can trust. Know that I'll always be here if you need someone to talk to, or need someone to listen. I'll be here for you.
You're perfect. I'll miss you when you leave, but I'm crazy happy for you. Congratulations. I'll be singing at your graduation. haha. Just for you.
I love you, Soul Sister,
H.A.K.A.S. <3
-Rachel
Oh the things I could tell you. But mostly, why are you leaving me?! -insert sad face here- We just met and now you're going off to graduate without me. But that's okay. I'm excited for you to get the change to move on and get out of the hole that is the public education system. Ha.
I'm younger than you, I know, but I'm not so young that I can't recognize the opportunity to give some advice.
First: You're still young. You have your entire life ahead of you to live and enjoy. Your dreams have years to grow and be realized and come to fruition. Who are you to say that you are not destined for greatness, renown, and the chance to change the world? You cannot see beyond today what marvelous things await you. But I know that there is greatness in your future. I am a fortune teller after all. So don't lost heart. Never stop honing your craft. Words are the tool by which you will gain the hearts of the world. They are your alone to shape and form into weapons or healing hands. You can use them to lift others or bring them to an awareness of their own misery. No matter what you do, I know you will use the incredible power that you possess. And I know you will use it wisely.
Do not forget either that your music can be the key to unlocking the soul. Music will open people up so that they let you in and trust you. In some ways your musical talent will be more potent than words ever could be, and you will need this for yours days ahead.
Second: Be cheerful. Strive to be happy. Remember to focus on the positive in life. Learn and remember how to laugh at yourself. Don't ever forget or belittle the beautiful things in life by focusing on the sadness, loneliness or heartache. With all it's sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
I remember when I first met you in MDT. We were rehearsing and I shook your hand on stage to introduce myself as Ellen Natalia Shine. I had no idea then who you really were or how close we would become.
I remember tear-filled nights of rehearsing Lifeboats, and once you gave me a massage so deep I felt it for days. Haha. I invited you over to a "party" and that was the day I really met you. You stated late after the rest had gone and we talked for what felt like hours. That was the first day that I began to hope. I hoped that I might have actually found a real friend. Someone who might actually understand me. Who might actually like the same strange things that I did.
We liked the same books, movies, architecture, people, philosophies, twisted endings, words and poetry. I was floored. Completely shell-shocked. Completely happy.
You're amazing and fabulous and wonderful and I love you so much! Remember me when you are rich and famous. Always know that even if we grow apart, we'll always be friends. Don't forget about me. I sure won't ever forget you, the one person I've ever been this close to, ever had so much in common with. Even if our friendship is only to be a brief spot of sunshine in the black hole that is high school, it's something that I wouldn't trade for anything. Ever.
Now you understand why a tiny space in your yearbook wasn't enough for me. I have too much to say to you. I'm too grateful to have met you. I couldn't fully express it in even an entire yearbook page. You made moving to Lehi worth while for me because I found a real friend. As corny as that sounds, you're my best friend. Now I don't need you to feel like I'm your best friend in the whole world, but I want you to know that you're as close as anyone has ever gotten to mine. Probably as close as anyone will ever come.
I'm so glad to have met you, you wonderful, talented, beautiful girl.
I won't tell you not to change because I would never take away the potential that you have, that I see in you. So change. Grow and experience life, good and bad. Enjoy every moment and sing in the rain. Notice the beauty in the fullness of summer, and the stark winter. Have pic-nics, write pointless songs about sunshine. Paint the walls, remember who you are. Never tune out natures song. It plays only for you, exactly when you need it most. Smile, even when you don't feel like smiling. Don't be afraid to cry, and don't shy away from the hard things in life. They will make you stronger. Don't forget me.
You're going to have a blast with this new phase of you life. Always know who your true friends are and who you can trust. Know that I'll always be here if you need someone to talk to, or need someone to listen. I'll be here for you.
You're perfect. I'll miss you when you leave, but I'm crazy happy for you. Congratulations. I'll be singing at your graduation. haha. Just for you.
I love you, Soul Sister,
H.A.K.A.S. <3
-Rachel
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Sticks and Stones
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”
Personally I have never like that old rhyme. Because I know that I’ve been hurt by words before. The pen is mightier than the sword right? Well now I realize the truth behind that little children's rhyme. It is something we can all learn and apply.
“Words will never hurt me” What does that mean? I don’t think that the person who wrote that was just born bullet proof and invulnerable from the harm words can afflict. Rather, I think the writer realized the power we have. That each one of us has.
We assign words their value, not the person who says them to us. Most people are pretty reasonable when it comes to tolerance, but those are never the people you hear about. We hear about the crazy ones. For example: John Whiley Price. If you are familiar with the world of politics, you might have heard of him.
He, along with ten or so other commissioners, sat at a table in Dallas. They were discussing the problems they had with their new filing system. A man named Ken Mayfeild spoke and made the comment that the system was “like a black hole” because documents were often lost and never seen again. A seemingly harmless metaphor.
But Mr. Price must have seen his opportunity, because he wasted no time. He spoke loudly and said “Excuse me, but you mean a white hole.” He then told the judge that he demanded an apology from Mr. Mayfield. The judge agreed, but Mr. Mayfield refused. He tried to defend himself, saying that he would not apologize for using a scientific term.
The room erupted, and in the commotion Price yelled that one should never use language that could possibly be offensive while in a room full of different races, and that he was personally offended because he was a black man.
After the incident he went on to say that terms such as “black sheep” and “Angels food cake” and “Devils food cake” should be banned and made illegal because he found them offensive. He thought it was an insult to blacks that “Angel’s food cake” is white, while “Devil’s food cake” is black. Now, Mr. Price has obviously not done his homework, because both cakes were created by the slaves. And Devil’s food cake was named so not because it was black, but because the original cake was very hot, and filled with many spices.
Mr. Price wanted Mr. Mayfield to be more tolerant and not use offensive language. But is the term “black hole” offensive? It was not meant to be.
Black hole- a hypothetical celestial object with a gravitational field so strong that light cannot escape.
No. I do not believe for a second that Ken Mayfield meant it as an offensive racial slur, but how Price re-acted was certainly offensive. Calling it a “while hole” was probably the worst, most childish thing he could have done.
So on the topic of tolerance, I believe that there are three things we must learn.
First, if we are offended by something, we have two choices, Act, or Re-Act.
Next, we need to realize what tolerance truly is and implement it in our lives.
And last, we have to take away the power of the words that hurt us.
When someone offends us, either by something they do or say, we have two choices. WE can re-act, which puts them in control of us, or we can act, and keep control of ourselves while at the same time, leaving the other person powerless.
In my home, my little siblings often quarrel and tease one another. In response
my father always says the same things. “Don’t re-act. When you re-act, you are letting them control you.”
We need to listen to that advice. If someone uses a word we dislike, we can freak our and cringe, and re-act. Or we can act, and walk away, or ignore them. We can choose to be offended or not.
Next, we need to learn what tolerance really is. Webster’s dictionary says this:
Tolerance- 1.) Sympathy or indulgence for beliefs or practices differing from or conflicting with one’s own. 2.) The act of allowing something.
John Price, and people like him have a distorted view of tolerance. They want the exact opposite and through their efforts to make everyone else tolerant, they have become intolerant themselves.
Intolerance- Unwilling to grant equal freedom of expression or rights.
Freedom of expression.
We enjoy many freedoms here in the United States. And in my opinion, freedom of speech is the most important. Defiantly the one I treasure most.
But those freedoms come at a cost. When we give people the freedom of speech, the cost is that they may say things we don’t like, or agree with.
So limiting the things that people are allowed to say is not only intolerant, but is taking away their freedoms and their rights.
If we are tolerant, we should be able to hear someone say something vulgar, and say to ourselves, “That is their choice.” And choose not to be offended.
And last, we need to take away the power that these words have.
According to Jay McFarland, a local talk show host in Dallas, “In making words offensive we empower them and those who try to offend us. Ignoring the words and deciding they don’t matter takes away all the power they have.”
A great example of this happened in San Francisco some years ago. The word “gay” was considered extremely offensive, and the word was used as the lowest of insults for many years. Finally, the homosexual community decided it was fed up and a press release was sent out. It said that they were no longer going to let the word offend them. They were going to adopt it and make it their own.
When they did that, they took away all the power of the word.
My father told me an experience he had in high school. His school did not have many white people so most of his friends were black. And they all called each other the “N” word, and wanted him to do the same. He never did though, because he understood that while his friends would not be offended at his use of the word, anyone outside his circle of friends who heard, would be.
But what another great example! That they are able to take a word that has been highly offensive for centuries and turn it into a term of endearment for their friends.
Those are two examples of people who knew that words will never hurt us, unless we allow them to.
We can all follow this example.
So to be truly tolerant, what is it that we need?
We have to act, not re-act, and not lot others control us.
We need to understand what tolerance truly is, so we can have it.
And we must stop being offended, and take away the power that words have.
“Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words will never, ever hurt me.”
(an old speech from debate that I dug up. I like it :) )
Personally I have never like that old rhyme. Because I know that I’ve been hurt by words before. The pen is mightier than the sword right? Well now I realize the truth behind that little children's rhyme. It is something we can all learn and apply.
“Words will never hurt me” What does that mean? I don’t think that the person who wrote that was just born bullet proof and invulnerable from the harm words can afflict. Rather, I think the writer realized the power we have. That each one of us has.
We assign words their value, not the person who says them to us. Most people are pretty reasonable when it comes to tolerance, but those are never the people you hear about. We hear about the crazy ones. For example: John Whiley Price. If you are familiar with the world of politics, you might have heard of him.
He, along with ten or so other commissioners, sat at a table in Dallas. They were discussing the problems they had with their new filing system. A man named Ken Mayfeild spoke and made the comment that the system was “like a black hole” because documents were often lost and never seen again. A seemingly harmless metaphor.
But Mr. Price must have seen his opportunity, because he wasted no time. He spoke loudly and said “Excuse me, but you mean a white hole.” He then told the judge that he demanded an apology from Mr. Mayfield. The judge agreed, but Mr. Mayfield refused. He tried to defend himself, saying that he would not apologize for using a scientific term.
The room erupted, and in the commotion Price yelled that one should never use language that could possibly be offensive while in a room full of different races, and that he was personally offended because he was a black man.
After the incident he went on to say that terms such as “black sheep” and “Angels food cake” and “Devils food cake” should be banned and made illegal because he found them offensive. He thought it was an insult to blacks that “Angel’s food cake” is white, while “Devil’s food cake” is black. Now, Mr. Price has obviously not done his homework, because both cakes were created by the slaves. And Devil’s food cake was named so not because it was black, but because the original cake was very hot, and filled with many spices.
Mr. Price wanted Mr. Mayfield to be more tolerant and not use offensive language. But is the term “black hole” offensive? It was not meant to be.
Black hole- a hypothetical celestial object with a gravitational field so strong that light cannot escape.
No. I do not believe for a second that Ken Mayfield meant it as an offensive racial slur, but how Price re-acted was certainly offensive. Calling it a “while hole” was probably the worst, most childish thing he could have done.
So on the topic of tolerance, I believe that there are three things we must learn.
First, if we are offended by something, we have two choices, Act, or Re-Act.
Next, we need to realize what tolerance truly is and implement it in our lives.
And last, we have to take away the power of the words that hurt us.
When someone offends us, either by something they do or say, we have two choices. WE can re-act, which puts them in control of us, or we can act, and keep control of ourselves while at the same time, leaving the other person powerless.
In my home, my little siblings often quarrel and tease one another. In response
my father always says the same things. “Don’t re-act. When you re-act, you are letting them control you.”
We need to listen to that advice. If someone uses a word we dislike, we can freak our and cringe, and re-act. Or we can act, and walk away, or ignore them. We can choose to be offended or not.
Next, we need to learn what tolerance really is. Webster’s dictionary says this:
Tolerance- 1.) Sympathy or indulgence for beliefs or practices differing from or conflicting with one’s own. 2.) The act of allowing something.
John Price, and people like him have a distorted view of tolerance. They want the exact opposite and through their efforts to make everyone else tolerant, they have become intolerant themselves.
Intolerance- Unwilling to grant equal freedom of expression or rights.
Freedom of expression.
We enjoy many freedoms here in the United States. And in my opinion, freedom of speech is the most important. Defiantly the one I treasure most.
But those freedoms come at a cost. When we give people the freedom of speech, the cost is that they may say things we don’t like, or agree with.
So limiting the things that people are allowed to say is not only intolerant, but is taking away their freedoms and their rights.
If we are tolerant, we should be able to hear someone say something vulgar, and say to ourselves, “That is their choice.” And choose not to be offended.
And last, we need to take away the power that these words have.
According to Jay McFarland, a local talk show host in Dallas, “In making words offensive we empower them and those who try to offend us. Ignoring the words and deciding they don’t matter takes away all the power they have.”
A great example of this happened in San Francisco some years ago. The word “gay” was considered extremely offensive, and the word was used as the lowest of insults for many years. Finally, the homosexual community decided it was fed up and a press release was sent out. It said that they were no longer going to let the word offend them. They were going to adopt it and make it their own.
When they did that, they took away all the power of the word.
My father told me an experience he had in high school. His school did not have many white people so most of his friends were black. And they all called each other the “N” word, and wanted him to do the same. He never did though, because he understood that while his friends would not be offended at his use of the word, anyone outside his circle of friends who heard, would be.
But what another great example! That they are able to take a word that has been highly offensive for centuries and turn it into a term of endearment for their friends.
Those are two examples of people who knew that words will never hurt us, unless we allow them to.
We can all follow this example.
So to be truly tolerant, what is it that we need?
We have to act, not re-act, and not lot others control us.
We need to understand what tolerance truly is, so we can have it.
And we must stop being offended, and take away the power that words have.
“Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words will never, ever hurt me.”
(an old speech from debate that I dug up. I like it :) )
Monday, May 23, 2011
What was I scared of?
Have you ever read that Dr. Suess story "what was I sacred of?" It's about this little yellow dude who is afraid of these floating pale green pants with no body inside them. I used to completely relate! You see... I have this phobia. I would say it's irrational but it's not my fault as anyone will attest.
It all started long ago...
I was five years old visiting my cousins. The second oldest girl Kai... well she's an interesting girl. There were two tall bunk beds in her room when we went up there. After hanging out in her parents room and watching The Prince and the Cobbler, we went to her room and each sat at the top of the different beds. All around the floor were strewn the headless bodies of Barbie dolls, callously cast about the ground. Surrounding them were their heads, lost and forlorn, hair tangled and wild. I thought nothing of them...until she opened the window. There was a stormy wind that day you see, and something happened that day when she opened the window. Something... well something not very nice. The strong breeze sent a gust of wind through the casement, taking my small five year old mind completely off guard. The heads, unnoticed until then, began to slowly move. They rolled across the floor directly. towards. me.
Kai looked up with panic in her eyes and shouted, "Run Rachel! Run! The Barbies are after you!" I jumped up with a cry of terror and fled the room, nearly rolling down the stairs and falling head-long into my mother.
....
Now I'll be the first to admit, that might not be exactly how it happened. But the event is colored with such terror and distress in my mind that I remember it no other way. To this day the event is looked upon by others of my family as a humorous story, even more so because it haunts me to this day.
So I was wondering (because apparently I like to ask you all questions) what irrational fears do you have? And where do they come from? Do you have a traumatic story that scarred your childhood, as I do? If so, tell us. We'd love to hear it.
It all started long ago...
I was five years old visiting my cousins. The second oldest girl Kai... well she's an interesting girl. There were two tall bunk beds in her room when we went up there. After hanging out in her parents room and watching The Prince and the Cobbler, we went to her room and each sat at the top of the different beds. All around the floor were strewn the headless bodies of Barbie dolls, callously cast about the ground. Surrounding them were their heads, lost and forlorn, hair tangled and wild. I thought nothing of them...until she opened the window. There was a stormy wind that day you see, and something happened that day when she opened the window. Something... well something not very nice. The strong breeze sent a gust of wind through the casement, taking my small five year old mind completely off guard. The heads, unnoticed until then, began to slowly move. They rolled across the floor directly. towards. me.
Kai looked up with panic in her eyes and shouted, "Run Rachel! Run! The Barbies are after you!" I jumped up with a cry of terror and fled the room, nearly rolling down the stairs and falling head-long into my mother.
....
Now I'll be the first to admit, that might not be exactly how it happened. But the event is colored with such terror and distress in my mind that I remember it no other way. To this day the event is looked upon by others of my family as a humorous story, even more so because it haunts me to this day.
So I was wondering (because apparently I like to ask you all questions) what irrational fears do you have? And where do they come from? Do you have a traumatic story that scarred your childhood, as I do? If so, tell us. We'd love to hear it.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
To look, or not to look?
That is the question!
I'm one of the many odd people who feel the strange need to look behind shower curtains and check for serial killers. Now, I understand completely how ridiculous it is, but it wasn't until the other day that I really thought about it.
Let's say there is a serial killer hiding behind the mysterious shower curtain. Is it better to look, be horrified that someone is there and then die? Or not look and be oblivious until they jump out and kill you? It's an interesting question if you ask me.
Personally I feel that it would be better to remain oblivious until they jump out and kill you, yet I always look. I can't stop myself.
Ah well. Old dogs and all that.
If you're looking for a good time or fun prank, I'd suggest hiding in someone's bathtub in the morning. It makes for an interesting time and sometimes a black eye for the next few days. Though I'd say it's well worth the risk.
I'm one of the many odd people who feel the strange need to look behind shower curtains and check for serial killers. Now, I understand completely how ridiculous it is, but it wasn't until the other day that I really thought about it.
Let's say there is a serial killer hiding behind the mysterious shower curtain. Is it better to look, be horrified that someone is there and then die? Or not look and be oblivious until they jump out and kill you? It's an interesting question if you ask me.
Personally I feel that it would be better to remain oblivious until they jump out and kill you, yet I always look. I can't stop myself.
Ah well. Old dogs and all that.
If you're looking for a good time or fun prank, I'd suggest hiding in someone's bathtub in the morning. It makes for an interesting time and sometimes a black eye for the next few days. Though I'd say it's well worth the risk.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Happy Rapture Everyone!
It's the end of the world as we know it. Isn't it fine?
Ah yes. Rapture. What a wonderful day it is. Last night was quite enjoyable because my family's catch phrase became, "Oh it's alright. Rapture's tomorrow." Or, "Eat drink and be merry. For tomorrow, WE DIE!" Sang to the tune of the Sons of Alma Scripture mastery soundtrack. Good times...
Anyways, remember everyone. The world ends tonight at 6pm in your respective time zones. It doesn't matter that England and Australia have already reported peace and quite as six o'clock came and went. Rapture is coming people, get ready! (But that won't stop me from getting ready for Theatre Banquet tonight) I bought this cute pearl necklace with ribbons...) Basically, Rapture is a bust. Sad but true. The world ending tonight might add a bit of needed excitement to life right now, Eh?
All this leads me to a very important question: If the world were to end tomorrow, or tonight, how would you spend your final hours? I spent mine helping my Grandparents unload their entire house into a storage unit, and then my cousins Bridal Shower. Ideally though, I imagine I might have gone Sky Diving or Rocky Mountain Climbing or done 2.7 seconds... well, you get it.
How would you spend you last hours? Maybe with family or friends? On your knees? At the bar? I think it says a lot about the person you are. Where would you be? What things in your life would you want to resolve? What things about yourself would you realize and wish you had time to change?
So that's it for now. No real lesson or funny story this time other then my endless enjoyment over this whole Rapture thing. Just something to think about, a little food for thought.
Ah yes. Rapture. What a wonderful day it is. Last night was quite enjoyable because my family's catch phrase became, "Oh it's alright. Rapture's tomorrow." Or, "Eat drink and be merry. For tomorrow, WE DIE!" Sang to the tune of the Sons of Alma Scripture mastery soundtrack. Good times...
Anyways, remember everyone. The world ends tonight at 6pm in your respective time zones. It doesn't matter that England and Australia have already reported peace and quite as six o'clock came and went. Rapture is coming people, get ready! (But that won't stop me from getting ready for Theatre Banquet tonight) I bought this cute pearl necklace with ribbons...) Basically, Rapture is a bust. Sad but true. The world ending tonight might add a bit of needed excitement to life right now, Eh?
All this leads me to a very important question: If the world were to end tomorrow, or tonight, how would you spend your final hours? I spent mine helping my Grandparents unload their entire house into a storage unit, and then my cousins Bridal Shower. Ideally though, I imagine I might have gone Sky Diving or Rocky Mountain Climbing or done 2.7 seconds... well, you get it.
How would you spend you last hours? Maybe with family or friends? On your knees? At the bar? I think it says a lot about the person you are. Where would you be? What things in your life would you want to resolve? What things about yourself would you realize and wish you had time to change?
So that's it for now. No real lesson or funny story this time other then my endless enjoyment over this whole Rapture thing. Just something to think about, a little food for thought.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
What matters most
In trending with things that are important to me, I think it wise to mention my fanatical and slightly unhealthy obsession with the theatrical arts. (I also think it is important to note that I have used spell-check four times in two sentences... five.)
You see, it all started long ago. Sixth grade to be precise. -insert flashback here-
Into the Woods. That was my gateway musical. That was what started it all. Of course, back then theatre was just some weird thing to do where I could hang out with my friends and make a fool of myself. Little did I know what it would become.
I moved around a bit. Experienced a director here and there. I did a few community productions and learned the basics of it all.
Then one day... I realized something. Theatre is more then just pretending to be someone else for three months straight and nine hours every day after school. Theatre meant family. The people around me were more than just my friends. I saw them more than my own flesh and blood relatives. My cast, and the crew as well, became one unified group. We shared the same goal, became one in purpose, and created something together that was magical.
Now, the fact that it took me so long to realize this is sad to me sometimes, but realize it I did! So that as I moved again, I knew that to join theatre would be to find my place in this new Twilight Zone of a world. I enlisted in the class and found something truly incredible. I felt at home. I barely knew anyone, and no one knew me. The director didn't know I existed and all I could do was the bare minimum, back at the bottom rung of the theatrical latter. And yet... I felt at home. I stood on that stage and I remembered what it was like to have a family.
Sometimes it was sad. I kept expecting Garret to walk by or to see Kenzie rehearsing back-stage. I waited for Coach to say something completely inappropriate and laugh, or to have a techie ask me for help. But as I stood there in an auditorium much different than my own, I was at peace. I felt comfortable and knew I belonged there.
Months passed and I got to know my new family. They were different from the family I had known and left behind, from the family I never would forget, and yet they were the same. They welcomed me in and we all devoted our entire beings to the cause. We put on a show that depicted the true story of the Titanic, each of us representing a soul who had been aboard, and we grew closer. We rehearsed and practiced and learned to love one another. Now I'm not saying we all got along. No family is perfect. I am saying that there is something magical about putting on a show.
I am half a country away from my old home. I miss it terribly. But I did not have to leave behind what matters most to me.
And best of all... I have a new family. People who have changed my life and made living here a blessing and an adventure. Thank you all, members of MDT, and my wonderful techies. You'll never know the incredible influence for good you have been to me. I'll never forget you.
You see, it all started long ago. Sixth grade to be precise. -insert flashback here-
Into the Woods. That was my gateway musical. That was what started it all. Of course, back then theatre was just some weird thing to do where I could hang out with my friends and make a fool of myself. Little did I know what it would become.
I moved around a bit. Experienced a director here and there. I did a few community productions and learned the basics of it all.
Then one day... I realized something. Theatre is more then just pretending to be someone else for three months straight and nine hours every day after school. Theatre meant family. The people around me were more than just my friends. I saw them more than my own flesh and blood relatives. My cast, and the crew as well, became one unified group. We shared the same goal, became one in purpose, and created something together that was magical.
Now, the fact that it took me so long to realize this is sad to me sometimes, but realize it I did! So that as I moved again, I knew that to join theatre would be to find my place in this new Twilight Zone of a world. I enlisted in the class and found something truly incredible. I felt at home. I barely knew anyone, and no one knew me. The director didn't know I existed and all I could do was the bare minimum, back at the bottom rung of the theatrical latter. And yet... I felt at home. I stood on that stage and I remembered what it was like to have a family.
Sometimes it was sad. I kept expecting Garret to walk by or to see Kenzie rehearsing back-stage. I waited for Coach to say something completely inappropriate and laugh, or to have a techie ask me for help. But as I stood there in an auditorium much different than my own, I was at peace. I felt comfortable and knew I belonged there.
Months passed and I got to know my new family. They were different from the family I had known and left behind, from the family I never would forget, and yet they were the same. They welcomed me in and we all devoted our entire beings to the cause. We put on a show that depicted the true story of the Titanic, each of us representing a soul who had been aboard, and we grew closer. We rehearsed and practiced and learned to love one another. Now I'm not saying we all got along. No family is perfect. I am saying that there is something magical about putting on a show.
I am half a country away from my old home. I miss it terribly. But I did not have to leave behind what matters most to me.
And best of all... I have a new family. People who have changed my life and made living here a blessing and an adventure. Thank you all, members of MDT, and my wonderful techies. You'll never know the incredible influence for good you have been to me. I'll never forget you.
New Blogger on the Block
So then. I've decided to try my hand at this new mysterious blogging thing. Which decision began with a simple question, "What do people blog about?" I thought the answer would be simple. Silly me. Bloggers do not blog about just anything. No no. It must be something important enough for them to passionately channel their soul to the masses by way of the internet. So I asked myself, "What should I blog about?" And even more importantly, what on earth should my blog be called?
The answer came instantaneously... Desiderata. They key to life itself.
If you haven't heard of it before allow me to enlighten you as well as introduce you to my new blog...
The answer came instantaneously... Desiderata. They key to life itself.
If you haven't heard of it before allow me to enlighten you as well as introduce you to my new blog...
-- written by Max Ehrmann in the 1920s --
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
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