What Does Love Feel Like?

Love is the feeling you get when you slide into a moment remembering an old moment.

I found myself looking into an old me, naïve, innocent, & probably a little selfish. It was a warm night and my eyes were glued to a summer sky. The constellations amaze me. I have always considered the sky, both night and day, to be part of God's iris: his eyes. In that moment on that night I found myself asking why certain things have happened. I am sure that I let a tear drop, for I am not oft without tears. And in that moment a love found and a love lost no longer gave me anger or remorse or fear. Staring into the deep night sky gave me peace in a silent prayer, and there I told myself to never forget that moment.

Relapse and I have found myself thinking about that moment of peace today. 

It was of peace... Serenity... And... True love.

That feeling the heavens subsided over me was the feeling of love. And no physical being had to be next to me in order for me to feel that... Peaceful love. 

i believe the more times you say something could be true, the more power you give it to become true.

Feeling Sad and Nostalgic.

Lost love is something I will probably never be able to fathom, though it is what it is.

I suppose we are all caught up in the misconceptions of our own thoughts, ideas, and wishes. We implement our expectations into any possible scenario, until we drive the foreseen fault out of the way. I've articulated this art so well into my daily life. It's not healthy by any means, but I didn't actually realize that I was doing it.

English?

We build up our own thought-processes so much so, that we expect these expectations to be met by everyone. Idealities. Our own ideal world should be what everyone else is trying to create/add to.

When in fact, this should not be so.

I'm learning to suspend my personal frame of reference.

It's difficult and acquires a disciplined, unbiased, character that is by no means stubborn.

Trust me. This isn't pushing my boundaries. This is poking, probing, and stabbing them outwards, like nails to a chalk board.

So oft, I like to offer my opinion and push for it to be the right one.

Like I said, these may be norms, but they are not at all healthy to a self-actualized lifestyle.

I used to think I had met self-actualization in high school. I had everything planned out, I was rather content, for what it was worth. Looking back maybe I was, but I was missing out on so much of the world at that time. I've journeyed deep into the world since then, and what I've learned is that perhaps self-actualization is impossible to achieve. Ideally, we should not have a personal frame of reference, but an omniscient frame of reference, that allocates clear, perfect, critical thinking at all times. We could reach goals and move mountains if we operated without our opinions gluing us down to the ground. Ultimately, we would know what it means to be completely happy.

I don't know how to end this blogpost; probably, because I don't know how to implement such a frame of reference. That is the journey: to reach self-actualization, we must have no opinions, just a perfect understanding of everything.

The wind is beautiful today. He is whispering sweet nothings into the worlds' ears. The wind is warm. The leaves are still crisp, if any are left. We are caught in a small winter, but it is winter. The air should be cold, but it is not. The wind is savoured by it's crisp notes that envelope the warm, warm air.

If I could be anything but me today, or at least this morning, I would want to be the wind because he is travelling at a fine temperature, at a fine speed, at a fine time.

Each story is like a river. There are many different waves and ripples and creatures that subside within, but every single river is made up of water. That is what it comes down to.

Maybe we should talk about fairy tales. . . and how the Prince is never as charming as they say. There's always some sort of fault: some sort of misdemeanour that creates tension, fault, and fear. 

I cannot tell you the amount of times I have dreamed up a story where I am Marigold and he is Christian (re: "Once Upon a Marigold" by Jean Ferris). Or perhaps I will awaken to a glittering day and be whooshed away into some sort of coming of age film-like romance, heightened by fickleness and idleness only to come to that perfect, "and everyone lived happily ever after." That's just it though. 

Film. 

All too often I think of ideal story lines, fascinating projections of amusing lifestyles. Nothing true. Nothing tainted. 

I'm starting my second semester of university: three more courses to check off the Bachelor of Social Work entrance prerequisites. My eyes are slowly being opened to the real world, and it's not fun. It's daring and intriguing, but frightful. I'm scared that because this world has slowly been draining life out of its waters and lands, very soon, steadily and speedily, all the innocence, love, and happiness will be drained out too.

I want to pioneer something.

What is left to pioneer? 

The closer I inspect and speculate, the more I find myself doubting what I used to feel. Feelings of concern are still more dominant than fear, and I am quite grateful for that. There is still that lack of innocence by which I see the world, though. 

And the fact that I have lost my dreamy, rose-coloured glasses is endangering and different. I am not the old me. I never will be. I am a new me. One that is lost in a the forest. Deep deep deep in the woods. I wish I could repaint things, fix the world, make it sing again. My world, at least. 

But that's just it. 

My new vision is clear. 

I see things for what they are. I can see deep into people. I know what hypocricy looks like. I know what anger looks like. Bitterness, resentment, depression, anxiety, fear. I see it on the faces of the ones I am concerned for. I see it on the faces of people I hardly know. 

I wonder. 

I wish I could change things, but I can't really. Not me anyways. Especially considering nobody sees me for me. I am sure many acquaintances and old friends and maybe new wonder why I don't smile like before, or laugh when something acutely funny occurs. I am staring deep into this abyss that not many people understand, and yes, that concerns me. 

But I am here for a reason, staring into these clouds. I see electricity, some sort of life, that is life-threatening, peaceful, endearing, and adventurous. 

I must learn something up here in the clouds. I don't quite know what it is yet. I am almost too concerned about what people are thinking about me. 

I am still ready to learn. I feel like that is what this year is about. To learn something new and to use it for good, not for more breaking of innocence. Enough of my glass has been chipped and broken. 

I want to rebuild it. Make it pretty. It won't be rose-coloured anymore, but it will be refreshing. Protective, yet instilling imagination and reality. Fusion. 

Semester II, New Zealand, YWAM, and new opportunities. 

That's 2014 for me. 

I have goals. I have resolutions.

But they're not on my terms. They're on God's. 

God knows I can't control this abyss. 

This year has been an adventure of emotions. I have seen little, and yet experienced a lot.
It was easy to get lost in a little world, and next year holds an even bigger world for me.
I'm nervous, but excited.
I think the best part is, I'm not fearful.
I've learned that the more one delves into self and one's own heart for experience, advice, and intuition, the more one can lose track of joy and journey. It's like looking at the path, afraid to fall, so much so that you don't realize you're about to walk right off a cliff. It took me a while to figure out that I was doing exactly that.... perhaps well over two years.... but I'm glad it's been configured the day 2013 ends. It ends the year on good terms, I suppose.
I've also learned that the more I learn about myself, who I am, and where I'm going in life, the more I realize I have so much more to learn.
There are many complexities within the complexities.

I don't like transitions between years. It feels like the world is moving much too fast for its own good.

Nonetheless, I suppose it must happen.

So here-goes.

I'm looking forward to the mountains I'll climb and the seas I'll taste.
I don't mind ocean water at all.
I don't mind rivers.
I don't mind clouds.
I don't mind sheep.

And it's clear as day, tonight in the wee hours of December 31st, that I can no longer drive my own life, in order to experience these adventures with true, pure happiness.

I've forgotten who's created me. I've forgotten that He knows me even when I do not know my own self.
I've forgotten that He is the heart I must rely on, not my own.

2014 is the year of the horse? I suppose chariots are to drive us into thickets and mountains and through rivers and sand dunes, by winds, heat, rain, sleet.

It's the year to GO.

I'm quite optimistic.
Cautious, but optimistic.

I'm ready.

dragons with the most fearsome of fires could not hold me back

I dig into myself. Nails into skin. So deep. So deep into myself that I forget who I really am.

These have been long, long days. Days so long that I dig into my sadness which digs into my sadness. It has felt like an endless cycle.

Only tonight have I realized that steeping bitterness has broken my ties with faith and happiness.

I lost my joy...

Fighting to get it back has been harder than ever.

Certainly a journey to be remembered.

Fighting for my life right now.

So hard.

But the fact that I've found possibility and can see the light is allowing me to feel new winds I've not known before.

It's fleeting.

Dangerous.

Sad.

I fear.

But the darkest days are long behind me and I refuse to muddle in fear again.

I will find my joy.

The greatest discovery I've made is the knowledge that all I am is found within the creation of God and the beauty He breathes.

I can taste that beauty.

I can't see it or feel it. . .

But my faith is persistent.

And that is what counts at this point.

It is the only thing keeping me from falling into the crevices and keeling over into the darkest abyss I have found.

Dragons with the most fearsome of  fires could not hold me back.

No, I know what it feels like to be alone.

So no, I do not think you're in the wrong to feel jealous and sad and miserable and angry and happy all at the same time.

We are complex people with complex feelings.

To find a new form of love.

I'm craving travel.

I need worldly experience. . . to be off in unknown lands meeting talented foreigners and sharing magic.

Just to be.

To be immersed in a new kind of culture. To find a new form of love.

I have grown tired, and all I need is to find a new form of love.

could an ocean of waves break my soul into fragments, splitting them across the caverns, the shore, the rocks and the shells?
could a sky of snow float down upon the treetops and shed its pure beauty upon the long-time travelled road?

may it be, may it be.

Genuinely, I've found out what I must do.

I must serve, and serve because I want to, not because I need to.

Only then will I rediscover happiness.

True happiness.

silently falling into the abyss crying and fighting against the wind that hollers through my ears and rips apart the boundaries and the obstacles and the terror of fear and fear and fear

spacing into lines of rigged hopeful teasing strength aligned with the deception of love and bitterness and hope and not knowing what is real and what is fantasy but knowing what is fantasy and what is real trying to see that life is more than the blocks that build us in that we can climb out and see past the fields and the rocks and the rivers and the seas and the mountains give me serenity give me agility find in me the treasure map to the sailboats and the pilgrims and the literatures of feeble able hope 

delving into the greatness of what can only be hoped for 

knowing that i have hope

it is in me

and it will stop or drive the fall or the rise or the falling rise or the rising fall or timetime time timetime time timetime time timetime time

You know what I can't stand about university? Everyone's out with a thirst to prove themselves. The thing is, I feel like I've already proven myself. Simply put, if you don't know what I've proven or who I am deep inside, then you don't reserve the right to judge me.

All I've learned this semester is that the work force and university do not imply any room for self. It's about how well you can impress someone. All these judgementalists with a thirst to prove and impress.

I Could Climb All The Trees in the World And Never . . .

It's funny how, in one moment in time, I thought you were perfect. You gave me wisdom and insight into things I did not know about. Today, I look back and see this as a gradual breaking of my innocence. Your language was something I did not understand. Now I see it for what it is: A tool you merely use to hide your shame and lies and deceit and misunderstandings and fear and loss.

I am sorry, today. I am sorry that I have had to lose someone I've looked up to for so long. I am sorry that you are in such a dark place, seething over lost truths and simple misunderstandings. I am sorry that you do not have the wisdom I have highly associated you with. I am sorry that you are full of sadness and bitterness.

I want to take all those swarming bees around your head and give you lots and lots of honey. That is what you need.

Honey.

Unfortunately that is something only you can make for yourself.

And until you erase condescending judgements, your vitality will weaken.

You will plunder in fear, until you address what is wrong.

You plunder in fears because you do not address what is wrong.


Today I've learned something from you, despite your vindictiveness. I've learned that wisdom does not come with age.

It comes with an open heart, mind, and soul.

I've learned to never fear, for it will probably drive one insane, as it is to you.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that I am losing you.

The End of An Era

The evening is cool and crisp.
I can see the stars.
Alas, I can see more than the stars.

The Darkest of Your Own Self

We are all so wrapped up in a facade. Warped by these ideas of perfection and sanity and education and wisdom.

We generalize too easily.

We judge too quickly.

I pity the people who raise themselves so high on pedestals of pride, for one day they will crumble and break. You raise yourselves so high above the "lowest of lows" that you do not realize that one day, when it is far too late, you will be the lowest of lows.... and nobody will be there for you but the darkest of your own self.

I pity you.

"In my return back through the passage, I heard the same words repeated twice over; and looking up, I saw it was a starling hung in a little cage.—'I can’t get out—I can’t get out,' said the starling. 

I stood looking at the bird: and to every person who came through the passage it ran fluttering to the side towards which they approach’d it, with the same lamentation of its captivity.—'I can’t get out,' said the starling.—God help thee! said I, but I’ll let thee out, cost what it will; so I turn’d about the cage to get to the door; it was twisted and double twisted so fast with wire, there was no getting it open without pulling the cage to pieces.—I took both hands to it.
The bird flew to the place where I was attempting his deliverance, and thrusting his head through the trellis, press’d his breast against it, as if impatient.—I fear, poor creature! said I, I cannot set thee at liberty.—'No,' said the starling—'I can’t get out—I can’t get out,' said the starling."

~ A Sentimental Journey Through France and Italy, Laurence Sterne (1713-1768). 

I have not written in a while.

I did not keep up with my devotions.

This doesn't make me a bad person.

It makes me human.

Human.

To feel. To be burdened. To love. To forgive. To forget. To honour. To dishonour. To see. To listen. To be blind. To not hear. To understand. To ignore. To fight. To lose. To create. To destroy. To build. To break down. To heat. To freeze. To fly. To fall.

We are all our own heroes.

We are all our own villains.

The earth's rivers flow by our tears. The earth's mountains sink by our anger. The earth's heat arises from our lust.

This world eats its own self away, because of us.