Unfinished

I found a torn piece of paper in my room. The following is the words that I scribbled and left to complete later, which I chose to let it be.

3.26.12

What if you stopped looking?

Deep down you know all the searching is going to turn up empty.

Overturning buckets, and digging through drawers.

Throwing out clothes and rustling about the papers.

You think eventually it will turn up.

Then time will cease and your life will be complete.

Mission fulfilled.

You're deceived.

Enclosed in a black box where life is comfortable--too comfortable.

You don't know the wrong you are immersed in, masked by right.

The Missing Link

7.23.12

I volunteer to devote time to an underprivileged child through the organization Big Brothers and Sisters. The main goal is to positively impact children in your area by spending time with them. We refer to the child as a “little”, and my child’s name is Diamond.

My “little” and I went to the public pool this afternoon. Once there, we settled in and had a wonderful time. I was trying to teach her how to swim a majority of the time. Once she got hungry we went into the locker room area to get my money. Like any other locker room there were lots of people. Women getting their family ready, trying to rinse off their little children, teenagers gossiping, the whole works. The public lockers require 50 cents to rent. As I was getting out my wallet, an older white woman seemed to be looking for something. Once I shut my locker and turned around, she had grabbed the arm of my little and raised her voice to say “Did you take it? My two quarters, where is it?” Diamond, who recently turned eight, looked confused. She just stared at the women. I kindly told the older woman “Sorry, we just walked in. We don’t have you money.” She glared at me, which I didn’t understand. I apologized again, took Diamond by the hand and left.

Diamond didn’t seem really phased by it. But it was nagging at me. There were many different women and children within the locker room itself. And when I walked out, I noticed the older woman’s possessions were across the room on another bench away from where we had been standing. So why did she have to accuse my eight year old “little” and then take out the rest of her resentment on me. I may be jumping to conclusions, but Diamond is of African descent and I myself am biracial. So out of all the other white people in the locker room, she came to the other side of the room and accused us.  This thought just kept lingering as I watched her exit the locker room.

I then began watching all the people at the public pool. A black family walked past to enter the slide area, and a hispanic family followed behind. I noticed how these two families didn’t know each other previously but began talking to one another. Noting how their children played together in the water, and that the young adults can get under their skin. They shook hands and bid adieu in hopes to meet again. I watched how two mothers gave disapproving looks to a very young (most likely between ages 18-21) mother playing with her child and taking pictures to remember the event at the pool. I loved to watch two particular people sitting adjacent to me. There was a bigger black woman and a very thin white female who I would describe as a tom boy. They laughed so carefree all the time. I noted that an unhealthy looking woman carrying a pack of cigarettes stood by the slides to get pictures of her children. And the people previously around that area quickly packed up their things and moved to a different table. Once Diamond and I finished eating and went back towards the pool area, I saw the accusing older woman again. She was with, what I assumed to be, her daughter and granddaughter. I waved friendly and she turned around and whispered to her daughter. Again I may be paranoid, but it actually did hurt. In the pool, I made note of how all the people interacted. The women that constantly kept track of when to turn on the tanning cycle. The rowdy boys playing football. The toddlers trying to swim, etc. All the people, the black and Hispanic family, and that one older woman.

Some people are easier at adjusting to others. They seem to be more open or friendlier. Others tend to shut out, and become extremely judgmental to strangers. I’m not saying I myself have never done both cases. It’s just that there is something missing in so many people. A loss connection that we all need. Just imagined if you took the love that you have for your family, and your very close mates, and thought of each person like that. The person in front of you in line, the slow car making you annoyed, the noisy children at the doctor’s office,  that coworker you can’t come to terms with, or the girl talking too loudly on her phone. All of those people, all of them, are more than people. Their life is eternal. A soul that should be treated as a cherished treasure. I’ve never understood discrimination or prejudices because of the way I was brought up, and I know that home life effects the way the mind perceives, but I myself don’t get them. But I have learned to think of others a different way. How special each person. How individual and unique they are. Made for some purpose in life. That each person has a special talent, ones that can be subtle, or obvious. I may never get to know what they are, but I’m sure they have them. Each person’s soul is a beautiful intricate life force that is going to live on forever. And sharing a smile with them, and showing a tender heart, and most importantly displaying love for them, how brilliant would that be? Just think of it.

Learning

7.?.12

 Being my introvert self, I sit in my room all day (not every day!) reading, thinking too much or painting,or some other odd form of art. But after all that, I produce the following nonsense:

I love to paint, sketch, and create things. I’ve become skillful at such tasks. At solving problems in my Chemistry courses. So as I sit on my computer typing away and listening to Explosions in the Sky; I can’t help but wonder who became so good at making music. Or so obsessed with technology to give me the opportunity to use such a device as this laptop.

Someone who is intelligent. Someone who is delicate. Someone. What I’ve began to notice (by notice I mean pay attention to this lingering thought arising from my subconscious) more and more is how I work and why. I’ve got this best friend, Victoria. She’s pretty awesome, don’t argue about that. Anyway, I would do anything for her. She loves me and I know that because of how she treats me. When I screw up, she calls me a dumb ass and gives me a hug. She understands that I messed up for my own selfish desires, but she still is my friend. She cares about me regardless of what I do.
While swinging with her one morning, she described being scared about her own friends discovering her mistakes. My response later at lunch was, “They’re not going to judge you. Or they shouldn’t if they love Christ. They’re going to have His love in their heart, and love you no matter what you say or do. Just like He loves us because of no reason besides that we are His.” She’s told me how much it’s impacted her recently. And I see that more and more. Like how she loves me regardless of what I do. That she loves those around her in her daily life. She has the love of Christ in her heart; so she loves me all the same.

So my thinking has broadened that point a little more. Back to my technology rant. I’m not imposing this belief on anyone, okay? If you disagree, click to a different post or a completely different website. But when I look at my surroundings I’m amazed in an artistic point of view of the beauty that surrounds me. How the sun sets and rises, how the stars twinkle and form shapes in the deep black, blue and purple tinted sky. That a certain vine wraps around a tree trunk so delicately. That the rain falls from the sky leaving an amazing aroma and atmosphere tints the grass and trees. My love for science makes me think of how the molecules that make up the rain have certain properties that react. That water isn’t combustible at room temperature. That the stars above me are shining light on the earth that is thousands of years old, and even our Sun’s light is eight seconds old. That if the Earth was any closer or further away in its gravitational rotation, we could burn up, or freeze. That when I look at my paint, I’m curious about how all the atoms are pushing and pulling just enough to stay bonded. I’m simply amazed at the intricate design of everything. And that, I could never actually create any of it.

But what we have created, computers, cell phones, paintings is based on an intelligence given to us. That a higher power, one that is good, gave us the ability to create such things. That as a Christian, Christ is living in us. Not impersonating, but allowing our lives to be changed because he is guiding us. How did you learn to ride your bike? I taught my sisters last summer. I held them firmly and began to rotate their pedals by hand. Let them understand the movement their legs must do. Even while they pedaled, I was pushing on their back making the bike go forward. I straightened their arms and guiding the handle bars. My sisters didn’t mock riding their bike. They allowed me to guide them. Hold on to them firmly.
Then. I. Let. Go. Yes, of course they fell. Hard. So I picked them back up and held on a little longer to the bike. Eventually they learned, and now they ride along just fine. Without my previously held knowledge about bike riding, would they have learned? Most likely, no. Silly analogy, but I think it does some justice. It helps me understand that I’m being guided by a higher authority(which I reject so often). Someone wiser leads me along a path. I’m learning from God. Slowly but surely. Then he lets go and I take my free will and run rampid. Then I stumble and fall. Stubborn and pride-filled, I refuse help. Once I come around, my body begins to heal itself; and repair the damage to my emotions and mind. Why? Christ did. He suffered and was filled with pain only to rise up. So he is doing the same to me.

I’ve thought of many ways to end this post. However, my mind can’t seem to wrap it up. Closure is not flooding me like it usually does. The only reason I can think of is that I’m not done with this lingering feeling. I can’t end this post because it’s only beginning.  I’m still running with this idea. Exploring, and allowing it to fill me up. Fill me with hope for a future where I’m in debt to a savior. Hope that I don’t have to try hard for acceptance. Hope that when I fall, I’ve got help to get back up. Hope that I want happiness and everyone else in the world is seeking it too. So loving on them is bringing them a fleeting moment of happiness. And that showing them a gentle heart and love will be simple once I grasp the concept that I’ve been given the gift of love is joyful. Even though it’s hard, when I fill my vision with the right thing, of Christ, He is going to change me. Fill me with Him, and I’ll learn to love others. Christ offers everything for the price of nothing. And that fills me hope.

Over Looked

7.12.12

I keep watching that clock, never letting the hands out of my sight.
But all along, I’ve been letting it go.
Time slipping through my fingers while I wander to and fro

I looked in the mirror, and lost all sanity.
Looked through the window and saw it all crumble.
They said it would destroy me, so I took the challenge.
Walked in the alley, and sought out shelter.
Became independent and strived for what I knew best.

But my mind became cloudy, and my purpose became skewed.
I kept going, never knowing what to do.
What I saw was all wrong, yet I never discerned such knowledge.
Uncertainty grew with each corner I turned,
getting deeper and deeper, until engulfed by the madness.

Confusion welled up and I was shaking with fear.
Entangled by how I had gotten here, I was left in a dazed state.
My hands began hurting, burning with the pain.
Splinters hit my back and I realize all that is.
Roped to this pole, I can hear it crackle, and smell the smoke.

They told me of my own destruction,
running around with these crazy desires.
I didn’t know it would be them to start the blaze.
Defeat is not in my vocabulary, so I raise my head high.
Lift my eyes to see where all this evil could have started.
Only to search about this cold vacant place
and see the inside of my own beating heart.

Complexity

7.9.12

Life is simple.
Birth, breath, death.

But you live.

Looking into the pool.
A vast deep perplexity of blue.
Then swimming as simple as inhaling.
A steel frame with only two wheels is bound to throw you on the dirt.
Then pedaling is effortless.
That adrenaline pumped moment of flight.
Jumping from the strip of rubber held by two metal chains is going to last forever.
Then a face meets the dirt, and tears are shed.
Before the sun sets; however, the swing is in motion again.
Two wheels were easy, but four on a steel frame is impossible.
Driving and driving until collision.
Blessed enough to buy another car.

The joy of being around others with unconditional joy.
A family that laughs and celebrates company.
Bringing an endless glow, a deafening wave of emotion.
Endless moments between friends.
Loyal people bound always to be there.
After damage is done, a hug mends the wounds.
More to do, off goes the exploration.
Then a terrifying moment.

Hearts accelerate, and lips meet.
Hands are held, and words are spoken.
Like the sun setting, and the stars shinning,
Her beauty is more ravishing each day.
But things get blown out of proportion.
Insults are thrown and ties are broken.
Like the depth of the ocean and the cliff of a canyon, the relationship is so very torn.

But love binds.
Held tight with passion and fury.
Affection and devotion.
The emotion mirrored in a pair of eyes.
Ignited in the smile.
Filled with hope, dreams are born.
Goals are met, others are exceeded.
Then dust settles and years pass away.
Memories made and moments that replay.
Cherished time held for an eternity, even after that very last breath.