Edge of a Horizon

Darkness is an Outsider

Tue, 04 Dec 2012 21:17:00 -0800

Hello, world.

It’s been awhile since we last talked. I feel awkward even stating that since it seems that our relationship has been defined already. I don’t know if you even care to hear my rambling this time. Much like a Wes Anderson film, you might think it’s the same problem, same talk, with different words. Watch harder, look more carefully. Each is unique, all have heart.

I don’t know where to begin. Should I even? If you only want to know that my life has been dark as of late, then there you go. Take what I’ve said and leave. You won’t want to actually understand; I don’t even know if I want to. But I have no choice to see myself. You get me externally, I have to have me internally. This is why I have more friends than I deserve. This is also why know one will ever know me. If you are still reading this, then I will do my best to paint a window for you. You’re not allowed in; but look through if you will.

Some say that the Holy Spirit shows us ourselves. That may be true. I think it’s more true to simply treat yourself as a roommate, a boyfriend/girlfriend, an inseparable spouse (which is how it should be understood). Much like a relationship, you will know them over time. I am an introvert. I’m closer to me than most people are with themselves. Much like a friend you choose not to see or hear from anymore, you forget the good times. You stopped the relationship (or they with you) because the bad outweighed the good. Do you remember the good anymore? I don’t. I look at me and frustrate myself. I am my own worst enemy. “Keep your friends close and your enemy closer” could not be a truer understanding of this relationship. But the trouble here is I can’t stop the relationship. I cannot divorce myself from me. Much like marriages, I have to find a way to make it work, “until death do us part.”

Death. Why do people grieve over death? Why are people afraid? Loss of love? Selfish. Destruction of Beauty? Inevitable. All is entropy. All is vanity. Death is the end of a book; the curtain of a play; the fade-to-black of a film. So why must we fear the end? Breathe. It’s coming.

Morbid? Demented? Sick in the head? Am I really? Then yet again, I’m on the outside. Death is an outsider. But God is one as well. Humanity separated from God, taking community, the “in” crowd, with them. Elitests. God became man to relate to us, to try to find his way “in”. Yet he refused to compromise who he was for it. Someone sniffed a rat. They killed him. Khattam-Shud. The end. Death.

I get that I cannot be a part of anything. I understand that my own culture is against me. I also understand that my cowardice will get the best of me. God promised hope to the outsiders, even to the people who aren’t outsiders yet. Read his word carefully, because you have to be an outsider to get “in”. Here’s the question for myself though: can I ever be “in” even with the outsiders? Is God’s hope legitimate or a ruse? Will I only ever be alone?

Everything I’ve written has been good food for thought. I wish I could stop the message here. To tell you that I’m stuck in these questions, confusion. I guess there is still hope for me, since part of me is still stuck in questions. But to question creates a fork in the road of “faith”. And the other part of me is walking down a path. I feel condemned already by the outsiders, by “Christians”, for questioning. Not by all, but a general feeling. Could be real, could just be voices in my head. But I need to make a choice. People want me on one road, others on the other. Why can’t I choose for myself? Why can’t I be respected in that? Loved in that? Why do I even care what you think at all?

I don’t fit in with the world. I’m beginning to no longer fit in with the Church either. So where is my place? I don’t know. I truly don’t. I’m an outlaw, always on the run. A lone ranger. But I’m no Batman. I bear a dragon tattoo. I want justice, but can’t achieve it. Maybe I’m just a pathetic, insane taxi driver. I’m a lamb. And Nietzsche, be proud that I’ve claimed it and have chosen to sauté myself for the birds.

Melancholia is an angel of Death. It looms over me like a plague, yet is the vision by which I see. Do I walk with eyes open in the dark? Or closed, blind? Faith is blind. That scares me more than death. How can I walk my whole life blind? I’d rather reach infinitum nihil looking into its face than walk blindly towards it, hoping for more. And that’s where I ask God, the outsider, how he can say that he and I are alike. How can I choose his “hope” of no longer ever being alone by means of blindness? Is “redeeming” faith truly blind? Or is it more than knowledge, more than sight? There’s the Matrix, blind to reality. Neo takes the red pill. He opens his eyes to see the truth. I’ve taken the red pill too. Though I may only be touching a liquid mirror, I see the world more than just a Matrix. But at what point does Neo realize that what he thinks is reality is still only just a movie? When does he truly see what’s more real than real? (Death fades the movie to black, doesn’t it?)

People walk around blind, hoping that when they open their eyes they will see light. I’m opening mine. There isn’t. Maybe there will be in the future. But there isn’t now. It’s dark. It’s lonely. And my path is my own. Not my family’s. Not my friends’. Mine. Maybe God will show up, maybe he won’t. Some people have the opportunity to watch me walk my path. Let me. Speak wisdom, but more importantly speak love. I won’t have anything else. I don’t know where I’m going. The words you say to me, the actions you do towards me, I take on my journey. Are you making it harder? Or are you trying to lighten the load? You can’t carry it with me, but you can prevent adding more.

I don’t know what else to give you at this time. There’s more, there always is. Nothing is simple, which is why minimalism in art is more of a hope than a reality. It’s fantasy, a fairy tale. Don’t cheapen the mind, the art, the soul, in all its complexities. Nothing awaits us at death. Everything awaits us at death. It doesn’t matter what path you take. Just run towards truth. You must seek it; it won’t seek you. God is coming, and truth will follow, revealing itself. What do you want to see there? Do you think you’ll like what you see? Even if you don’t, it doesn’t matter. God is God, truth is truth, you are you, and darkness is an outsider. So let him in.

The Majesty of the Golden Gate Bridge. (Taken with Instagram at...

Fri, 21 Sep 2012 20:29:16 -0700

The Majesty of the Golden Gate Bridge. (Taken with Instagram at Golden Gate Bridge)

I’m tired of waking up in tears, ‘Cause I...

Sun, 16 Sep 2012 14:40:42 -0700

I’m tired of waking up in tears,
‘Cause I can’t put to bed these phobias and fears
I’m new to this grief I can’t explain;
But I’m no stranger to the heartache and the pain.

The fire I began, is burning me alive
But I know better than to leave and let it die
I’m a silhouette asking every now and then
Is it over yet? Will I ever feel again?
I’m a silhouette chasing rainbows on my own
But the more I try to move on the more I feel alone
So I watch the summer stars to lead me home

I’m sick of the past I can’t erase,
A jumble of footprints and hasty steps I can’t retrace,
The mountain of things that I still regret,
Is a vile reminder that I would rather just forget
(No matter where I go)

The fire I began, is burning me alive
But I know better than to leave and let it die
I’m a silhouette asking every now and then
Is it over yet? Will I ever smile again?
I’m a silhouette chasing rainbows on my own
But the more I try to move on the more I feel alone
So I watch the summer stars to lead me home

‘Cause I walk alone (no matter where I go)
‘Cause I walk alone (no matter where I go)
‘Cause I walk alone (no matter where I go)

I’m a silhouette asking every now and then
Is it over yet? Will I ever love again?
I’m a silhouette chasing rainbows on my own
But the more I try to move on the more I feel alone
So I watch the summer stars to lead me home
I watch the summer stars to lead me home

Transition Back Home

Sat, 01 Sep 2012 22:55:41 -0700

Every story involves a hero’s journey home from the special world where he/she changed. But the hero is never the same when he/she re-enters “home”. This transition time back home from the journey can either be wonderful and joyous, or it can be dreary and painful. Again, the hero is never the same.

EDGE Project in Altea, Spain was my journey, my adventure. I met friends, I met internal stuggles all heroes face in their stories, and I was guided by God to love and build community with all the wonderful people He brought in my life. But I write not about the journey I had; instead I write about the time home, the aftermath, what I must have walked away with from my story in Spain.

I left behind problems and pain when I first left for Spain; and truth be told, those problems coming home grew in monsters, pain grew into grief. My first week back I felt rejuvinated, invigorated, wide-eyed about people, culture, and life. I experienced culture shock, afterall America is very different than Spain. I sought to bring the pleasantries of Spain into my home culture, into my workplace, into my relationships.

My monsters have harassed me and hurt me. My pain has festered and bled. But though my monsters have grown, I am not left defenseless, without the means to put up a fight. Spain prepared me in ways I didn’t even know or realize until the moment they were needed. In the face of monsters, what do you all heroes have? Courage, boldness. As I face beast after beast, I feel a sense of courage to face them head on. Praise God.

Though the monsters are many, and God knows what else will be in store, I can rest in the truth that Spain has empowered me to face them, to fight them, and to beat them.

Altea

Sat, 16 Jun 2012 08:08:20 -0700

Pursuit. A striving after wind,
with the hope of it being found;
the spirit of relationship between beauty & me,
a stretch of something profound.

In America, I caught a glimpse
of people & places wanting more,
constant activity of beautification,
inviting beauty to dwell on our shores.

Presently I’m overseas
witnessing a new kind of union,
where beauty invites man
to an incredible transformation.

Instead of pursuing, people are dwelling
with a place present in beauty;
my soul is in disbelief,
somebody must be trying to fool me.

Instead of strife, I see breath,
an embracement of the pleasurable;
joy exudes in a place having reached where others reach,
truly the love of God for believers and the unbelieving is immeasurable.

And I have barely experienced but a day here,
an uncomfortably blissful, yet joyous store;
to know I can see beauty already and this is just the beginning,
I cannot imagine what mystery lies in store.

orbyns: wall of books. Dreamworld.

Wed, 30 May 2012 10:09:49 -0700

orbyns:

wall of books.

Dreamworld.

I wish I could cross my arms and cross your mind‘cause I...

Thu, 10 May 2012 15:14:00 -0700

I wish I could cross my arms and cross your mind
‘cause I believe you’d unfold your paper heart and wear it on your sleeve

All my life I wish I broke mirrors instead of promises
‘cause all I see is a shattered conscience staring right back at me

I wish I had covered all my tracks completely ‘cause I’m so afraid
Is that the light at the far end of the tunnel or just the train?

Lift your arms, only heaven knows where the danger grows
and it’s safe to say there’s a bright light up ahead and help is on the way
Help is on the way

I forget the last time I felt brave
I just recall insecurity
‘Cause it came down like a tidal wave
And sorrow swept over me

Depression, please cut to the chase and cut a long story short
Oh please be done, how much longer can this drama afford to run?

Fate looks sharp, severs all my ties and breaks whatever doesn’t bend
But sadly then, all my heavy hopes just pull me back down again

I forget the last time I felt brave
I just recall insecurity
‘Cause it came down like a tidal wave
And sorrow swept over me

Then I was given grace and love
I was blind but now I can see
‘Cause I found a new hope from above
And courage swept over me

It hurts just to wake up whenever you’re wearing thin
Alone on the outside, so tired of looking in
The end is uncertain and I’ve never been so afraid
But I don’t need a telescope
to see that there’s hope
and that makes me feel brave

Lost Time

Thu, 10 May 2012 08:55:55 -0700

To anyone who reads this post or even cares,

I have not written a blog in a good number of months. And aside from my sparse number of tweets, and by the off chance you even get 15 minutes with me over coffee, you probably are wondering what’s happened. Have I stopped caring about sharing my thoughts with the world? Am I just lazy? Have I died? Surely, all three have a bit of truth to them.

My life in the last several months has been anything but simple, easy, or helpful. Honestly I won’t be sharing everything with you, so don’t go on reading this expecting to figure out what’s wrong with me. Frankly, I don’t know myself. All I know is that I have the hardest time receiving anything: be it love, encouragement, criticism, money, affection, conviction, a hug, etc. And this is really hard when you call yourself a friend, a son, a student, and an image of God.

What does it mean to receive something? How does one receive? You, reader, might be asking me: how do you NOT receive? I can tell you this much: I comprehend my unworthiness. The more I grow in knowledge attending a Bible college, the more I see God and Beauty truthfully AS WELL AS my own depravity and sinfulness. You cannot eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil expecting only one or the other.

The more I see Beauty, the more I am in love with Her. And if in my seeing more of Her I catch a glimpse of myself, I writhe and collapse the more. This cycle has gone on in my life for years. Call it a battle between light and dark, me and myself, God and the devil, you could even try labeling it a bipolar disorder; regardless it is the cycle. Good gets more good over time, evil gets more evil likewise.

With all that to say, I’m currently dealing with the burden of darkness which has reached such a level of darkness it’s crippling me. I’m stuck. Emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually, I’m exhausted. I’ve stalled out. I just can’t keep up.

Here’s where the problem lies: God has been SO present in this time, so near to me, so close I can practically hear Him whisper to me. And yet, where He wants nothing more than to drown me in His grace and His love, I cannot receive it. I turn it away. I’m unworthy of it. I know it, He even knows it; yet He still gives. It’s in His nature.

I don’t know what to do with grace. I don’t know what to do with God. I deserve Hell, I deserve to be unhappy, I deserve justice. And He comes to me bearing the greatest gift of all: Himself.

Lord, I don’t know how to receive You. I don’t know why you would give me anything. Why waste Your time with me? Life would be so easy without grace. But You are less likely to let up than me. I’m stubborn, but You’re more stubborn with me. I know my perspective will change again. I know I’ll catch another glimpse of Beauty without myself sneaking into view. And I know it will cause me to fall back in love. May You graciously guide me to that place. And may You help me to open my heart to You, to my family, to my friends, to the world that needs me.

Thank you, reader. You’ve witnessed a deep glimmer of one of the hardest wars I’ve had to endure. Be patient with me. I love you, I promise. I love you enough to share myself with you. And though I may never see Beauty in my own words, may She appear clearly to you. That is my hope.

Ta ta for now.

The Tree of Life - A Review

Sat, 28 Jan 2012 18:37:09 -0800

Very few films in cinema history have attempted to define human existence and nature. With 2001: A Space Odyssey as arguably the last film to do so, Terrence Malick’s latest philosophical treasure is The Tree of Life. The film opens with a verse from the book of Job saying, “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?…When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?” (Job 38:4,7). Immediately following this verse is an abstract light refraction with the sound of waves on a beach. We then hear the now famous words, “The nuns taught us there are two ways through life: the way of nature and the way of grace.” And from this point onward through the film, Malick has us wrestle with these two “ways,” amongst a plethora of other themes, through visuals. Now it has been debated amongst critics, viewers, students, and even other filmmakers whether the film communicates this or anything at all; if it does, how does the viewer experience these things; if nothing, then what was the point of sitting through gorgeous pictures for two and a half hours? Clearly the movie is attempting something bigger and grander than pretty much any other film in existence. But it is the communicative nature of the film that has everyone in an uproar. I would argue that this is the single most beautiful film ever made. It is universally agreed that the movie’s visuals are spectacular. But when I talk about its beauty, I mean even more than just visuals. Coming from my own Platonic view of beauty and art, I feel a sense of the film’s pursuit towards something grand. I see an almost reaching out to God through art. But even past my own understanding, there is another element of beauty in the film that I think Malick is attempting to say.

I once heard it said that “beauty is in relationships,” and I think Malick might agree. The subject that I feel the film most expresses and is least obvious is relationships: relationships between us and God, us and nature, us and others, our relationship with ourselves, nature with nature, God with nature, color with color, shot with shot, movie with audience, emotion with logic, nature with grace, etc. Tree of Life is an ambitious movie all around, but one specifically about relationships. The opening verse in context is of God finally coming to Job and speaking out against his lack of understanding of God. It reveals God’s relationship with Job; and even in the latter part of the verse, a sort of community-oriented relationship among people, who are called sons of God, which even implies a belonging to the Father; another relationship. The mother and father’s grievance toward their dead son exist because of a loss of relationship. The mother sings out the same cries of Job, and the audience is thrown out into the cosmos, seeing things on a macro level; then trust back to things like childbirth, bubbles, and butterflies, now seeing things on a micro level. God is in all things, grace is in all things (we even see this in the relationship between a prehistoric predator leaving wounded prey alone, without a kill; an act of grace in nature). The majority of the film is focused on the eldest son’s relationship to the world around him: his brothers, mother, father, job, friends, himself, and even God.

Emmanuel Lubezki, the cinematographer, also took Malick’s theme to an artistic level, as well as Malick’s five editors. To accentuate the macro and micro level of God’s transcendence and imminence in human life, we are shown cosmic shots followed immediately by shots of cells forming biological life resembling planets. Lubezki keeps the level of relationships deep by using a variety of shots (the ground, the horizon, and the sky) as our points of view on life; it is all around us, above and below, not just straight ahead. The nonlinear storyline speaks to our relationship with our past and present. The ending sequence, with Sean Penn walking around the desert finding himself later on a beach with everyone from his life, could be the relationship we have with our future, albeit an abstract one at that. And with this scene we even get the poignant reminder that relationships are what matter. The mother’s voice-over says at the end, “The only way to be happy is to love. Unless you love, your life will flash by. Do good to them. Wonder. Hope.” These powerful last words in the film open us up to experiencing relationships to their fullest. Loving one another grows our relationships with each other more deeply. Remembering to always wonder at the beauty that surrounds us will further our relationship to the world God created for us, by His perfectly skilled hands. Hoping in God allow all of this to be possible, to trust that everything is in His hands. Lastly I think Malick is reminding us about the verse, “Then the Lord God said, ‘It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him’” (Genesis 2:18). We were created to have relationship. This is our existence. So has Tree of Life succeeded in capturing the greatest, grandest idea of human existence and life? It this film the most beautiful ever made? I think so.

The Task Ahead

Thu, 01 Dec 2011 20:16:05 -0800

Friends are a blessing,
complex and knowable;

Through the good times and the bad,
You hold it all together;
friends would not be friends if You weren’t there.

Conflict is a component of nature,
but should pain be?

Even if things are to get better,
pain is sometimes a necessity.

The story goes that two friends wrong each other,
they no longer talk, and when they do tension rises;

When one attempts to get over the other,
the other accuses the one of wrongdoing,
the fire burns brighter.

As the fire burns and the smoke settles,
one thing remained clear:
You were the healer to fix the two.

I talk with one and embrace the other,
my hope that You shine through.

I understand the task at hand,
as one grows with friends,
the other needs me, to need You.

Take me, Lord,
move through me,
pour Your grace out of me.

Lord, may I be a cistern,
but may I hold You in no more;

She needs you more than ever,
and I need You to be the One,
the One to heal it all,
the One to be praised through the good and the bad.

The journey ahead is a rough one,
but I know You hold my hand,
now, O Lord, I grip it tightly.

Moment of Beauty

Wed, 30 Nov 2011 19:30:43 -0800

Sing to Lord a new song!
No infinite number of songs can express how beautiful You are!

Lord, all I get are flickers,
and flicker is too strong a word for how little I actually grasp;

Still, the small flickers are enough
for me to want nothing but You alone!
Only You, O Beauty!

I sit on a beach, awe-struck by the infinite horizon,
nothing reaches farther than You can reach,
all creation turns back to You.

Of all the created world, nothing makes me feel closer to You than the shore;
I thirst to reach You,
Only You, O Beauty!

May I be celebrated that You be celebrated,
may my heart ever pour out to You.

No words need be exchanged for us to be together,
for where I am, You always will be.

Purify my heart, O Lord,
may my heart be glassy enough to magnify Your beauty,
may my eyes, in their purity, see Your face.

I want nothing more than to reach the end of what I cannot see,
the horizon I long to find;

Why must You be so far from me,
yet so near that You draw me closer,
Only You, O Beauty!

Nothing else can satisfy the appetite You’ve given me;
not sustenance, not pleasure, not idols, not passion, not even creation, nor even my self;
Only You, O Beauty!

I love You, Father;
I love You, Friend;
I love You, Spirit that keeps me going;
I love You,
Only You, O Beauty.

To Read the Word

Tue, 29 Nov 2011 23:05:12 -0800

A new year begins,
a new commitment is made;

The words You bestowed on us,
it was my job to read.

To have read it all just one time,
I dedicate the whole endeavor as worship to Your blessed name.

I begin to notice a change,
the way my everyday is now different.

On the rainiest of days, Lord,
You were the single ray of light;
You were reason enough to smile.

Freedom grew like seeds planted on paper,
my chains became instruments of praise,
clanging together to sing praises to You!

Friends only strengthened the words that surround,
Your words gave them their strength.

The pressures the world leaks collapse on me,
I fall and fail You,
tears were not enough for me to allow Your grace to cover me.

Summer and sun comes over me,
friends become snakes,
or am I the one with the double tongue?

Your words, though read, weren’t heard,
they lost their flavor, the sweetness.

The reading stopped, how grievous,
nothing could have been worse to do;

My heart began to eat its own fruit,
fruit You say that withers (John 15:6);
how bitter fecal matter is!

In Your timing I am reminded that Your words are sustainable fruits,
nothing tastes sweeter, or brings healing;

The daily struggle of self and word,
fail, succeed; win, lose.

On the day You celebrate Your creation,
I complete the task before me,
I read Your whole Holy Word.

This thing I learn from my joys and my trials:
read the tasty and the dreary words,
all of them are perfect, beautiful gifts of our Father (& His Son);

These words alone keep sin at bay,
keep us walking on the roads which take us to the Throne.

Letting Go

Mon, 28 Nov 2011 22:53:00 -0800

I wasn’t making myself happy,
nothing could help it;

I knew exactly what I had been avoiding;
I knew the answer all along.

You, O Lord, had been knocking repeatedly on my heart’s door,
and I knew exactly what that meant, what it was I had to do.

Division reigned and ruled my heart all summer long,
and it was time now that unity take its place in me.

My friends, my work, my academics, my passions, my loves;
I held onto idols, I wasn’t near to You.

It was time to let go.

My friends preoccupy themselves,
they become too busy to notice me;

They drew further and further away,
reigniting the lonely fire that often consumes me;
yet somehow the burn isn’t deadly,
I found myself moving on.

Overachievement merited me nothing to my superiors,
my overzealous responsibility gone unrewarded;

I was reminded that doing good works is not an end,
merely a sign of some good in heart;
my work, a call to love & serve others.

My family, which didn’t know how to let go,
now leaves me be, alone unless I make the effort to be known.

I lay on the floor weak, vulnerable, alone,
yet You stay with me;

You tell me it’s not finished,
my heart has held onto her, prolonged.

I meet with her, spend time with her,
no longer able to keep myself still;

Friendly conversation grows deeper,
my heart pours open.

I admit to her what you’ve been doing in me,
and what must be done with her.

We become silent to one another,
hoping for the day we’ll meet again.

I’m overjoyed to be completely open,
I’m all Yours, all Yours,
take me now, Lord, take me now.

Silence and calm envelop my spirit;
where are You, I cry;

Nothing,
I wait and can hear You no longer.

I’m left here, confused and alone,
thinking I have but one task before me,
to follow You without You.

I’m letting go.

Thu, 15 Sep 2011 00:47:00 -0700

Meditation on Human Redemption

Wed, 31 Aug 2011 23:02:00 -0700

Lord, because you have made me, I owe you the whole of my love; because you have redeemed me, I owe you the whole of myself; because you have promised so much, I owe you all my being. Moreover, I owe you as much more love than myself as you are greater than I, for whom you gave yourself and to whom you promised yourself. I pray you, Lord, make me taste by love what I taste by knowledge; let me know by love what I know by understanding. I owe you more than my whole self, but I have no more, and by myself I cannot render the whole of it to you.

Saint Anselm, Prayers and Meditations

Mystique

Fri, 19 Aug 2011 00:00:00 -0700

There is magic in first experiences; in listening to a beautiful song for the first time, in seeing a new place you’d never been before, in passing first glances with someone enchanting. It’s not the newness that makes a moment magical though; it’s the unknown, the mystery.

Storytellers are always searching for new ways to tell a story, or to simply tell new stories. But instead we should be telling stories in order to explore the unknown, because there is still so much more that man does not know that needs exploration.

You see, when we experience what we are unfamiliar with, our imagination will blissfully fill in the gaps; the cloud, the fog. And honestly, this is how I, an idealist, prefer things. I want to be left in the dark, I want to think things are more magical than they probably are. (Why I choose to be this optimistic shall remain a mystery to you.)

To tell you the truth, truth can be a grim thing. A person you once looked up to can be a real fool, food that you’ve been craving can end up tasting bloody awful, a song can be heard enough times that you end up figuring out the real implications of its lyrics. Too much truth will net you tragedy. And once you know a thing about a person, it proves pretty difficult to erase. Likewise, over-indulgence/sensualism can become an enemy of the imagination. Hear a song too many times and it can lose its wonder, read a phrase or a proverb enough times and it can lose its meaning, eat lobster so many times that you end up sick of it, associate yourself with a friend for so long a time they can lose importance as an individual. Sensualism is the death of the imagination.

This is why I choose to refrain from travelling to a single place too many times, to reread the same books I’ve fallen in love with, or to over-listen to music that envelops my soul. I seek to keep the wonder intact. As much as we want to experience wonder, sometimes it’s best left to our imaginations to recall and remember the wonder.

Part of my wanting to write about this came from one of my nightly solitary excursions. I drove past an intersecting street in the middle of the night and briefly caught of passing glimpse of what looked like a never-ending park with lights, trees, and ponds bursting from the earth like a garden being kept by fireflies. The lights emerged from below the overcast branches of the trees, lighting them from underneath, making it impossible to determine the height of the tree tops. The ponds reflect an equally appealing mirror world of the romantic scene. The moon smiles above it all.

A week later I pass by the street again in broad daylight; I saw simply a suburban upper-class housing area with an electronic gate blocking a small park in the middle of the capitalist fortress. No longer did I see the infinite, no longer did I see the magic or wonder my imagination assumed of the place. (Note this is one of but millions of examples of my experiences in my everyday life.) So I ask myself: does my curiosity of a place behoove me to know how magical it it? or do I want to be left in the dark? do I want my mind to remember things as wondrous and magical? and at what point does this restraint prevent the pursuit of beauty and mystery?

The Prestige pushes the same perspective, in regards to the wonder of illusions/magic tricks: “Now you’re looking for the secret… but you won’t find it, because of course you’re not really looking. You don’t really want to know. You want to be fooled.”

This is why I find darkness so attractive. And yet I rely on God to keep my innocence and naivety intact, in a way to shield me from the darkness, to allow me to merely be a tourist. This is why I prefer nighttime excursions to day ones. (“Dark, my sirs, has its fascinations: mystery, strangeness, romance…” - Haroun and the Sea of Stories.) This is why I choose not to watch/hear certain things that I know will not benefit my imagination whatsoever. This is why I’m so often introverted. This is why I’d rather speak more complexly/densely than normal, why I hold intentional words and artworks in such high regard. This is why I strive to hold meaning to the grandest of ideas down to the most minute detail. Intentionality.

Perhaps I look at the world in ways that are too grand for others to comprehend or enjoy, or even relate to. But I am who I am, and I will use my gifts to further the Kingdom at hand. Sometimes I will be encouraged tremendously, whereas other times I will feel more alone (and inhuman) than I can bear. I am imperfect and have much to work on.

But Beauty is infinite, because He is infinite. And He has been the only One I can embrace knowing further and still be left in awe and wonder. So one of my life goals shall be to search for beautiful things that I can continue to understand more fully and still be moved to tears. One of these days, I will meet her. And until the day I die I will continue to be in awe of her mystery and beauty. But that day’s arrival is unknown. My day is unknown. Tomorrow is unknown. Today is unknown. Go and find it.

I embrace Your cosmic mystery.

Are you watching closely?

Sorrow, my long-lived friend, you cannot seem to leave me alone. Always you’ve wrestled inside...

Mon, 25 Jul 2011 16:26:00 -0700

Sorrow, my long-lived friend, you cannot seem to leave me alone. Always you’ve wrestled inside since…well, as long as I can remember. I dreaded the times you’d come to visit. We’ve never seemed to get along over the years. Your visitations were always unpleasant for me, until recent times. I think I got so tired of the pain I felt that I decided to listen to you just once; let you say what you wanted to say. And just like that, you became a friend.

You remind me I’m human, something I find so hard to see most times. You remind me that I feel; for to feel is definitely better than not to, I think. Perhaps I feel too much, but you only over stay your welcome by a smidge, never to the point of desperation. You hear me when others don’t. You can understand the delicacies of my words where others take them lightly.

But yet, the times we’re together I’ve found to be the most emotionally exhausting times. You show up after the damage is done and typically tend to pour salt in the wounds, telling me it’s good for me. My friends seem to disagree with your methods. I’ve been so used to your voice that it’s hard to hear their’s at times. I find that I draw closer to God because of you. You open up my eyes to the depravity of the world…and of myself. But truthfully, sometimes I don’t want to know. I want to be ignorant. I want to keep my innocence intact. With you I don’t really have a choice. You are, to me, as uncontrollable as the tide.

You make me realize how much I take Joy’s visits for granted. In fact, you make me remember what I had forgotten. I miss her a lot. So don’t be jealous.

I don’t know what to make of our relationship anymore. And I don’t think the visits will ever end. But, Sorrow, we can’t be as close as we’ve been. You tend to come to me when God seems to be out of town, so we still will end up speaking to one another. I know He’s greater than you are; He’s more understanding of who and what I am; He’s more loving than you can ever hope to be. You are sweet for but a moment in time, where He is always sweet so long as I continue to eat. You tell me it isn’t my fault, where Truth tells me it is. I departed from Him. I’m the nomad. I’m the one seeking for freedom, finding myself enslaved without Him. I miss God. Don’t be sad, Sorrow. I just want Him to return swiftly; or truthfully, for me to make it back safely. Please, may nothing hold me back.

A Greeting

Mon, 18 Jul 2011 13:38:00 -0700

Hello, Reality.

Today I guess marks the day my mind will slowly ease up and allow other people a glimpse into what I see. Forgive me if I take my time adjusting my feet in the water, but in time I will have learned to swim. I’ve been working on something quite special for all the world to see, one of these days. Like swimming, walking, or falling in love, it will simply just have to take time.

Thanks for taking time out of your own life to understand mine. The intertwining of people and their lives is quite stupendous. So here’s to a grand adventure toward an end too far off to even consider; a bridge we’ll cross upon arrival.

Adieu,

Jerod Thompson McLaughlin