Seeing and Hearing

New Website!

2010-02-14T19:13:00.001-07:00

I now how as new website. I moved from wordpress http://toseemoreglass.wordpress.com to my own domain name: http://www.LucasSkrobot.com
It is still very much under construction, but soon in will be running nice and smooth!
Bookmark it and I'll see you in a week or two once everything is looking GREAT!

Moving to Wordpress

2008-10-23T23:02:00.003-06:00

Well is has been a good year on Blogspot but I have discovered Wordpress and I must say I like it MUCH MORE!

Oddly enough I had a dream last night where someone handed me a envelope or package or something and it was wordpress (this was all blurred into many other dreams). But because of this flash from my dream my curiosity peaked and I decided to do something with the account that I made a few weeks ago.

I am quite happy. No new content as of yet but it should be coming . . . I hope.

Come check me out: http://toseemoreglass.wordpress.com

Connections

2008-10-11T13:09:00.005-06:00

Understanding silences Judgment (giving someone what they deserve), enabling a person to give Mercy (not giving someone what they deserve), and Mercy enables Grace (giving someone what they don't deserve), and Grace enables and empowers people to change.

Conclusion: if you want to be less Judgmental, shows Mercy and give Grace then get wisdom and understanding. Whatever you do--get wisdom.

Seasons

2008-10-11T00:12:00.003-06:00

Seasons are important things to see and hear. Here is the Season I'm seeing (ha): Luke 22:31-32.

Yey for the wilderness, dark night of the soul, fire, or hell--or whatever you want to call it. I wish seasons only lasted for a day . . . but sadly this one is a season.

A Tid Bit About Mornings

2008-10-07T20:24:00.004-06:00

Here is something that I realized today: I need at least a good two hours to decompress in the morning before I start my day. No joke.

I'm not all girlie or anything like that. I don't need to get my hair right or pick out just the right outfit. No it is nothing like that. Here is a list of the reasons why I need a good two hours in order to start my day off right.

1) I need 30 minutes to lay in bed and do nothing--besides pray and I go in and out of dreams--so that I can be awake enough for when I do get up.

2) Once I do wake up I quickly realize that I've had some pretty amazing dreams that I really really should write down so that I don't forget them. This could take 20-40 minutes--EASY.

3) After writing out a few of my dreams from the night before--they are usually quite detailed and there is usually more than one of them--I like to get up do the whole teeth brushing thing, maybe shower (depending on if I showered the night before) get dressed and shave--15 to 25 minutes.

4) Breakfast. Now there is an art to breakfast, there really is. I'm only just beginning to learn and explore this art of eating breakfast but it is one that I feel will be most beneficial in my life. See: http://simplybreakfast.blogspot.com/ . I really do feel like breakfast is by far the best meal and time of the day. The hustle and bustle has not started yet, the day has not been ruined by things that days get ruined by. I feel the breakfast is the most intimate meal--dinner is the most romantic but breakfast is by far the most intimate. You can share life over breakfast before the world comes crashing in. Breakfast: 20-30 minutes.

5) Since I don't have a someone to share my life with (yet) I will open my bible and do some quick reading before I really start my day off. Proverbs really is a good morning read--wisdom can never be a bad thing to practically learn how to live your life and relate to people in . . . lets just say better manner. This normally adds a little time to breakfast--say 10 minutes.

Right now we are at a total of 135 minutes at the high end. That is 2 hours and 15 minutes.

6) I need 15 minutes to get out the door and that makes it 2 and half hours on the high end--and 100 minutes (1 hour and 40 minutes) on the short end.

Some may think that I'm a morning person because of this--but it is not true. I'm a night person--that is why I need 2 hours in the morning before I start my day. I hate having to rush in the morning. It doesn't make me happy. In fact, it sets me off on the wrong foot--and considering I already make enough wrong steps as it is, I don't need any more help in muddying up my life.
So thank you kindly rush-filled mornings, but I would rather take my time and do my life right.

Seeing and Hearing when Poisoned – Introduction (The first of a 4 or 5 post series)

2008-10-06T22:12:00.005-06:00

We all see and hear. We all have paradigms and lenses that we see through. We all have filters over our ears that we hear through. Not all filters or paradigms are correct—in fact I would dare to say that the majority of the world’s populations’ filters and lenses are not only skewed but flat out wrong. That is called human nature and every day life, but what I am concerned about is seeing and hearing when our minds have been poisoned.

Do you remember the Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien? The trilogy was recently made into film—as if you didn’t know. In the last film, “The Return of the King,” Frodo and Sam and Gollum were making their way up the stairs of Cirith Ungol to find entrance into Morodor. For those of you who read you will find this scene near the end of “The Two Towers.” In the preceding journey Gollum had been whispering lies to Frodo about his best friend Sam, saying that Sam wants the ring for himself and so on and so forth. Gollum gained Frodo’s trusted and began to sneak sweet little morsels of lies to Frodo. These lies slowly turned Frodo against his true friend, our hero, and beloved, Samwise Gamgee. Now Gollum wanted to be rid of Sam, so he framed him by sprinkling Sam with bread crumbs as he slept and threw the rest of their provisions in to the dark abyss below. One thing leads to another and Gollum successfully turns Frodo against Sam. And here Sam says to Frodo “Can’t you see, he has poisoned you against me!?”

Sadly, it was too late for Sam and Frodo. Frodo could not see or hear clearly because he was poisoned, and thus Frodo left his one true friend right as he was on the doorstep of hell itself—and that is not the time to lose a person who truly cares for you. But more often than not, it is at the gates of hell (or while trekking through hell) that we lose those closest to us. But when, and why, we lose friends when we do is an entirely different topic that can be covered later, but for now lets take a look at what poison really is.

The best way to maintain seeing and hearing clearly is to not drink the poison, but to do that we need to be able to discern what is poison and what is truth. This requires seeing and hearing, and this will require another installment . . . so stay tuned because the next installment of Seeing and Hearing when Poisoned will be up within the week—promise.

I'm back!

2008-10-02T08:36:00.003-06:00

So some of you may, or may not, have noticed that my blog was inaccessible for a short period of time. I was experiencing some technical difficulties but I'm and glad to say that I have resolved my blog problems and I'm ready to get back to the meat of this blog: Seeing and Hearing.

Please read, follow along, comment, and enjoy!

2008-08-20T20:18:00.005-06:00

I think we have our idioms backwards . . . my mom is dyslectic and she has always said that she views the mountaintop experiences as the hard ones and the valley experiences as the good ones. I think she is right. I mean think about it logically for a second. If you are in a valley you have shade, water, protection from the wind and it is generally easy going you have just got to follow the valley. Yet, when you are on a mountaintop you have rocks, cold wind, snow, and it takes a heck of a lot of work to get up there. The energy that it drains out of a person to get up a mountain makes you pretty tired and just ready to go back home.

I think this is also true when you look at the “mountaintop” experiences in the Bible. Abraham went up to a mountain to sacrifice his son—ah hello not a pleasant experience even though God provide at the very last moment. Moses has to deal with a whole bunch of grumpy people in a desert who blame him for taking them out of slavery. That was the context of Moses going up to meet a massive scary God in a storm of fire. Elisha goes up to a mountain when he is running from Jezebel and he is pretty freaked out, and on the mountain God comes in some pretty intense ways (wind, earthquake, and fire) before he reveals his gentleness in a whisper. David when he sings about God being a fortress and mountain and rock etc. he is singing those things because his life is literally hell and everyone is trying to kill him. He isn’t having a good time by any means, he is going up to the mountains because it is a place where you can defend yourself from all those who are coming against you. Point being that if someone is on top of a mountain where there is no water or vegetation it is probably because someone is trying to kill this—i.e. not the best moment of his or her life. Now yes when God breaks in at the last moment after much perseverance and character building on your part it is pretty awesome, but it isn’t really “fun”. Likewise in the valley you probably aren’t having a very rough time (I’m sure you can carry the analogy over).

Now where is this all going? Well I have had . . . well literally two mountaintop experiences in the past year. In fact I had one today/yesterday and I had one about a year ago minus a week. That is somewhat of an interesting coincidence if you believe in coincidences: I don’t. Last year I was stressed beyond belief and I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t function and I couldn’t sit through class without completely losing it. So I ditched class and spent an afternoon up on top of a mountain and I came down with a revelation—I needed to leave the church I was going to and attend a new one. This was something I really did not want to do . . . but I hate to admit it I like my sleep so I obeyed because I wanted to sleep.

I will take this moment to quickly rabbit trail on what mountaintops are. Mountaintops are places you go in the midsts of trials and confusion. At the top of a mountain, after much struggle and perseverance getting there, a person is able to see the landscape; they are able to see the bigger picture, allowing them to come down with revelation. Check it out, it happened with Abraham—he came down with a covenant, Moses he came down with the 10 commandments, Elisha came down with clear direction of what was required of him, even Jesus had a mountaintop experience at the Mount of Temptation and he came down with the most powerful 3 ½ years the world has ever experienced. Now the thing is once you come down from the mountain you have to hold on tight to the revelation that you had on top of the mountain because once you are back in the thick of it all that supernaturally clear and broad vision is hidden by all the other hills around you.

Okay, seg-way back to the mountaintop experience that I just recently had. Well I was not really in the amount of stress that I was a year ago by any means. Things just were not clear. I couldn’t see, hear, or feel anything clearly. Everything that I had hoped for is/was in the midst’s of being swept away and I have been doing by best to grip onto my nonexistent future with all my might—making my life miserable. The numbers 222 have been haunting me for the past . . . month and a half? One of two scriptures that I believe that God is pointing me to with this scripture is Genesis 22:2 “He (God) said (to Abraham), "Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you." Oh yes! That is the most exciting word I’ve ever had from the Lord. Man I just can’t wait to go and sacrifice the very thing that hold most dear. See, Moses was promised that through Isaac would come a nation that would out number the stars!! Moses had to wait for many years, I mean decades, before his wife finally had Isaac, and she did it when she was a hundred. I mean talk about waiting. So here Abraham is after waiting a really long time to see the promise of a son come to pass only for God—who gave and promised him Isaac is ask Abraham to kill Isaac as a sacrifice. Ah, I mean common on God . . . that is a little bi-polar of you don’t you think? Maybe a little of a rash thought God . . . should have thought that one through a little more before that slipped out of your mouth.

Well Abraham being a man of faith far greater than I could even aspire to, doesn’t bat an eye, at least we don’t hear about it. He goes to kill and burn up his son, but at the last moment God jumps in and says, “Stop! Here is a ram. That was a good one huh Abraham? We are gonna look back on all this some day and laugh, really, haha ha aahaha aaaah . . .” Because Abraham was faithful in giving all of his hopes and dreams up God gave him all his hopes and dreams back and sealed it with a covenant. I’m not sure if that made sense and that is a really brief explanation on a lot of things that is happening beneath the surface in that passage but none the less . . . I think you understand the image well enough.

So I went up to this mountain confused and frustrated at God and frustrated that His word always comes to pass in my life and my really awesome amazing hopes and desire always come crashing to the ground. I’m just holding onto . . . well my desires and dreams and hopes and everything that I have ever envisioned for my life. I’m hanging on to my flesh and my ways while being oh so reluctant to acknowledge God’s ways. And I see the death in my heart and my flesh that has to take place and I don’t like it because . . . because I’m so afraid that I’m never going to get them back. I’m so afraid that I’ll end up being miserable with life. I’m so afraid that I will end up being broken and lonely beyond repair. I’m so afraid that God is just going to leave me in a puddle of tears at the side of the road. With this all in my heart I go way to the mountain. I arrive at around 11:30 pm and I lie down and look at the stars and I realize that God build and placed all these stars in place and he did so in a way that they don’t all go crashing into each other. I lay there in the middle of nowhere and I see that God is a master architect and he can weave my life in such a beautiful way that it doesn’t just fall all apart. I lay there with all of my fears and questions and frustrations and problems and angers and pain and brokenness . . . and all he said was “peace.” In the night I awoke at 2:22 am (without an alarm I just woke up) and I cried out to God and I said, “God I need your word! God I need your word. God I came for your word, I won’t leave here without it . . . God, I need your word.” And he said in his hushed voice that wraps around me like a warm blanked, “Peace, peace, peace, peace, peace . . .”

Peace. Peace in the middle of a fiery storm. Peace while everything that you hope for evaporates into a mist and is swept away by the wind. Peace. Peace. That was all he said was Peace.

I will have peace in dying to everything that I want because I trust that I will find life with Him. He is the Life. He is Life. I have no life apart from Him. If I die to myself I will find life. Dying is not dying at all. It is becoming alive. I will have peace as I place myself upon the altar and set myself a flame. Peace.

Failing at Love

2008-07-22T10:02:00.001-06:00

There is a passage of writing found in 1 Corinthians 13 that describes Love. This passage does not indicate to you how you will naturally act towards someone and then you know it really is love, but—as I quite painfully learn a few years ago, and am still learning today—this passage is a measuring rod to examine my life to see if I am a person who truly loves. I normally don’t find these verses to be too encouraging to me, because Boy do I fall far short of this measure. And it is this verse in perticular that is starting to question the quality of my Love. “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” I Corinthian 13:7. What do I really believe Love is? And if this is Love . . .do I live it?

What does it mean to bear all things? I want to Love. So what does it mean . . . the word “bear” is translated from the Greek work of “stegō”̄ which is defined by the Strong’s Concordance as “to roof over, that is, (figuratively) to cover with silence (endure patiently): - (for-) bear, suffer.” Bears . . . in my pehaps uncultivated modern mind when I hear the word bear I think to hold of carry. I think of it like carrying a backpack. But the Greeks where using this word so differently—it actually is quite amazing to me. In the greek this means to “cover with silence,” it means instead of carrying a weight on your back to cover over and shelter—and with silence none the less. Ah, me in me self-centered-puffed-up-American-culture thinks that those I know and love should know how their actions are impending upon my “rights and liberties as a human being.” The way I want life to revolve around me is birthed out of a loveless mindset, paradigm, and culture. Love has nothing to do with your own rights, desires, or needs. Love has to do with humilty, inconvience, sacrifice, surrender, and servanthood. Love is about going lower and lower and lower. Love is covering over, or hiding, with silence—not brooding over it with silence but covering over offence with humilty. I fail at love.

Love means to “believe all things.” This is a little more straight forward but still the greek shines some light. “Believe” comes from the word “pisteuō”, which mean “to have faith (in, upon, or with respect to, a person or thing), that is, credit; by implication to entrust (especially one’s spiritual well being to Christ): - believe (-r), commit (to trust), put in trust with.” For me it is easy to lose, or not trust another . . . I think that is the case for most people. But if I say that I Love . . . then why don’t I always believe? Why should I take the word of a person whoes character already appears to be untrust worthy . . . and believe it over the word from someone that I share Love? If I do not believe all things . . . what am I but a selfish selfseeking fool? If I don’t believe all things then I’m just living in a manner that is isolated so that I don’t have to make my heart vulerable. It takes more courage and strenght to believe—that to disbelieve. Again, I fail at love.

Love hopes all things. Here, hope comes from the word “elpizō” which means “to expect or confide: - (have, thing) hope (-d) (for), trust.” When we have faith, or belief, we are being sure of something that is in the present, even if we cannot see it, but when we have hope with are being sure and confident in something in the future even though it is not present. Hope is faith in that which is to come. So often I doubt. So often I don’t hope for the best. So often I expect the worst . . . when I claim that I am a person who loves. I fail at love.

Love endures all things. The word for endure comes from the greek word “hupomenō” meaning, “to stay under (behind), that is, remain; figuratively to undergo, that is, bear (trials), have fortitude, persevere: - abide, endure, (take) patient (-ly), suffer, tarry behind.” This definition nothing super revelatory. Enduring means to wait. It means to hold back and stay instead of running off. It means to go through the muck and mire and get in the middle of life instead of shrinking back being you don’t want to get a dirty by loving others and living life. I don’t know what else to say on this one . . . I fail at love.

But I don’t want to fail at love. At the end of my days I want people to say of me: “Above all things Lucas Skrobot loved. That is the only way to describe him . . . he loved.”

On "Love"

2008-05-26T11:43:00.002-06:00

Or maybe this is just one stepping out in relationships.

I don't generally "date around". And I would consider myself a pretty "committed" and "long term" kind of person. Since I really am not looking for a short term relationship I am extremely picky about who I will even consider asking out. Now I really don't ask girls out . . . at all. The last real relationship I was in was 3 years ago. It lasted 2 years and it was not the bests of times. It was one of the, good and close friends sorta situation that turned into a relationship. The last girl I kinda of dated I knew for a month and then we "dated" for a month and then as quickly as it crashed into a side of an erupting volcano. After I learned a good life lesson I met another girl who was from Papua New Guinea and was the "perfect" girl. Well I waited around for about 9 month before asking her if she wanted to go out, and well . . . she was in a relationship by that point and she is about to actually get married. All of that to say, I've become afraid of starting any relationship with a girl.

You see, I have some sort of image inside my mind of what it all should look like. I have an image in my head of what she should look like--and the irony is that I can't even imagine that image. It is as if I have created a featureless face that encapsulates the face of this girl. This face that doesn't exist in my head, doesn't even exist in the world. I've become afraid to consider liking any girl because I feel like if I did I would have to marry them. I'm afraid that I will "pick the wrong girl" so to speak. I don't really think believe in the "one". I do believe in that to some extent but I think it is a choice.

I have this expectation of a hollywood relationship. as if I will some how magically meet this wonderful beautiful woman. It would just happen, maybe we would see each other from across the room and we would both just "know" that we were meant to be together. We would walk towards each other, eyes locked for fear of losing all of our hopes and dream. and then, in the middle of a loud crowded room, everything else will blur and fade away. All the other conversations would dim. I would whisper "hey" with star struck eyes and she would blush a little, look down, and then back up and say "hi" in a crystal voice. We wouldn't be able to get enough of each other. It would be love at first sight. Over night our friendship would grow so deep that it would be as if we always knew each other since the beginning of time.

I would never have to stick my neck out. I would never have to risk some girl I hardly know rejecting me. But then again . . . the thing is not that I fear rejection, but I fear ending up trapped to someone that I don't love. Fear is reason that I think love looks like Hollywood. It is because I want to be able to fall in to love with no risk of hurt, pain, mistakes, or falling out of love.

But love is not something you fall into. Love is a choice. Love is not merely an emotion, or a chemical reaction. Love is a choice that you make every day. Love is an action. Love is laying down your live for a friend.

All of this to say, I'm going to stick my neck out. I'm going to put it on the line. If I never risk my heart I will never be given another's. If I never become vulnerable I will never find safety, not just in relationships but in life.

Weakness is the greatest strength. For His strength can only come in my weakness.

Thoughts on Graduation and Satisfaction.

2008-05-26T11:09:00.003-06:00

This past Friday I turned in my last and final paper for my undergraduate degree, which happened to be my 56 page Honors thesis, I thought I would feel a great sense of accomplishment. I didn't. I immediately thought--maybe I should go to grad school, I will surely feel a great sense of accomplishment after I get a masters! I quickly realized that I was wrong, quite wrong.

I recongized that I was looking for fulfillment in my achievements. I was looking for a sense of completion in life in an education and a degree. I was wrong, and instead of being proud of the schooling that I have completed I instantly wanted more as to try and fill a void in my life.

I makes me wonder . . . in what other areas of my life am I clinging onto the things of this world which pass away to satisfy the yearning of my heart which is eternal?

2008-05-21T19:06:00.002-06:00

The end is near.
Less than 48 hours and I will be 100% done with my degree.
This does not mean a whole lot.
Maybe I have mentioned this but I will continue to work as a gopher.
Maybe a raise?
That would be nice.

I learned a good deal of information during the course of my undergrad. I grew a lot.
And yet I still feel so unqualified for the next, 20? 30? 40? 50? 70 years. Which is fact a good thing.
If I felt qualified for the rest of my life then I must have been severely under educated and quite foolish.

Life is learning and growing and changing and becoming.
I don't want to microwave my life.
I prefer to spend my life waiting.
Food marinated and cooked in an oven smells better and taste better.
That kind of food is made with love and is full of fragrance.
I want to be a damn good meal when I died.

2008-05-19T21:38:00.002-06:00

Well, it is Monday May 19th, 2008. Today is my first weekday after receiving my B.A. in English Literature . . . well sorta. I still have to revise and turn in my honors thesis, but it is close enough. Right?

The upper radiator hose on my car cracked and started spewing today. Just wonderful. Things tend to be breaking around me. I stubbed my pinkie toe today after a nice hot shower and it split open. Just Grand.

I still have my job: data entry. Fun. But it is better than nothing yes?

Nothing really changes. I just no longer goto class, and I work more often.

My good, and probably best, friend graduated this weekend as well. She was going to school in South Carolina. She moves back to South Korea on Wednesday. I'm sad about that. I will no longer be able to call her when ever I want to talk about . . . well usually nothing. I will miss that a lot.

I don't understand this thing called life. The way life plays it self out is nonsensical. How to does people rise to the top, and why do others sink to the bottom. And which is better? Is there such a thing a greatness? I think there is, but I don' t think it looks like what man and culture presently deems it to be. This is hard for me, because I long to be great . . . but I measure it in the eyes of man and the things that I am doing. But that is not true greatness, for my life is vanishing before my eyes like a vapor.
Humility is greatness.
Love conquers all--it remains.

"I wish I had the courage to be an absolute nobody. " This is my prayer . . . and I fall short of this desire each and every minute of every day.

2008-05-15T22:03:00.002-06:00

Wonders if anyone has ever done a study on post-graduation-depression.
I think I have it.
It is the down time.

Hmm CS Lewis once wrote:
If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desire, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.

Maybe that is for me.
I have access to life, and joy. And yet I choose to . . . dwell in, revel, surround myself with, wrap myself in . . . self pity? sorrow, longing, depression, realism, brokenness of life because . . . it feels more real, I can feel the emotion, I can feel the pain, I can see is and it is tangible, it is easy, and it is something I'm unable to express instead of . . . reaching out for hope, faith, love, joy, gladness, life, I chose to not see with eyes of faith, I decide not to see what could be, I reject what has been given to me because I lack faith, I can put words to joy and gladness, hallmark does it every day and it is cheesy. But I chose not to feel it. I'm a fool. I would rather have depressive misery that ever lasting gladness?

What an complete moron I am!!!!

There is so much more . . . only we have the eyes to see what could be . . . what will be--instead of what is. Because what is is an illusion. It is a lie. I break my agreement with depression. I have agreed to exalt sorrow and pain. I have agree to call the darkness and hurt of the world a good thing. I have agreed to love depression. I break that agreement. I say no more will I stand in belief of your lie. I believe in a better word. Everlasting life. living water. Jesus has a better word for me. And He has the final word. So fuck you darkness!! =D I break my agreement with your laws and your ways. I come into the light and I agree with the kingdom of light for there is joy and gladness, healing and life there. I right now chose to believe in a better word.

2008-04-06T21:47:00.000-06:00

Beauty for ashes.

2008-04-01T23:35:00.002-06:00

I find that as I walk through life this holds to be true—when the tides begin to change and high tide begins to turn to low tide vision clears. Those rocks that were hanging around beneath the water begin to surface. The way things are that the life that you are living all of a sudden comes into focus. It is sobering.

A close friend of mine told me today what she is planning to do after she graduates in December—move. I’m happy for her, it is great, it is the right thing . . . but I find myself . . . I find myself realizing the truth of my life—I am a stranger in this land, a wanderer, everything is temporary nothing last. I find myself reverting back to how it was in PNG and how people always left all the time.

I good friend of mine, older sister of sorts, graduated and left. She was my best friend. I remember being at the airport saying goodbye to her and I was just weeping. I was inconsolable. And then in an instant my mind said “it is over” and I stopped crying and all emotion was gone. I couldn’t even make myself cry. I gave her one more hug goodbye and went home. She came back to Ukarumpa a few months later. I knew exactly how she would act. She didn’t come over to say hi just like I knew she wouldn’t. We no longer knew each other. We were strangers.

And here I am again . . . in a land full of temporal friends. My friend and co-worker/non profit partner who I see multiple times a week and talk to almost everyday is leaving soon. I know it is months away and nothing is final but it is still reality for me. I am still finding myself draw back. I’m already trying to find something to kill the pain with. I am still building my walls day after day after day.

I am a stranger in this land, a stranger in the world. It is not the path I chose—it is the path that chose me. Now for those of you who may have some sort of familiarity with the bible you may remember all the places where it is talking about how this is not our home and that we are strangers just passing through. Well I’m not talking about that (I am but I’m not). I’m not writing something to be spiritual or to sound uber religious or I’m trying to be a good Christian. I’m writing this because this is how I feel and it bloody sucks. I’ve heard people say, “oh well this isn’t our home anyways and blablabla I don’t know if they just say it because it is the Sunday school answer or because they are trying to make me feel better or because they actually feel it. Those who I’ve heard say it, well I don’t buy that they feel that way. But I do. I have no home. PNG is not my home—I hardly know anyone there. Denver is not my home. This culture is not my home. The “Christian Culture” is not my home.

As I realize the tide is changing the more I realize why I do some things that I do. For instance, I drink coffee because it is from PNG and drinking coffee reminds me of PNG. I’m not addicted to it, I just want to drink it because I miss the memory of that land and I want to hold onto it. I sit of the internet and my computer, procrastinating homework, because little to no friends and I just sit around hoping to talk to an old friend because all I connect to all my friends from PNG on the internet. So I wait around to talk to people that I don’t care to talk to anymore because I don’t know who they are because it has been so long.

I am just running. Constantly running from my destiny. I put up my walls because I know that if I don’t I will just have more pain, more disappointment. And yet I waste my time doing nothing because the only other thing to do is to sit quietly and face the broke mess of a shit hole that I am. I don’t want to sit and cry out to the only thing that will save me because I know the path and I don’t know if I want it. I look at the path and I see a long fight, a long fight against myself. I don’t want to deal with me. I don’t want to have to . . . . because I’m not sure if I believe in this thing called friendship and relationship anymore. I don’t know if I believe in getting married and having a family. I don’t know if I believe in the joy of friends. All I know is pain in that place.

2008-03-20T23:59:00.004-06:00

After talking to a few friends I may have realized somethings . . . The first thing I may have realized is that somewhere along the way I have forgotten where my tongue is. Weird. I sit down with people and, as Kathleen Kelly would say b-l-a-n-k. I don't know if it has to do with the time of day or what but it is like I have lost all memory of my life. It is all a closed box. You say "Potato" and I say . . . NOTHING! I sit stare blankly and think to myself, "come on you've gotta have SOMETHING to say, anything please!" But no, blank. It is really weird. I use to be able to go on and on but . . .

I wonder though . . . I go through phases of eating a TON and not eating hardly at all. Well right now I'm in the not eating hardly at all and a lot of what I'm eating probably isn't the world healthiest food (not that it is junk food), but I think I'm allergic to something. I'm like tired all the time. All the time. I need to see a doctor.

So I have a close friend who . . . well gives me a hard time every time I open my mouth about PNG. She does so in good fun. She doesn't mean anything by it--she is just laughing at how I repeat the same mini speech over and over and over again. And she is right it is funny, and we are close enough to where we make fun of each other a lot. But still . . .

When I first came back from PNG I was always saying "well in PNG . . ." "In PNG . . ." "The food in PNG . . ." "Back home in PNG . . ." Needless to say my friends didn't like it and I came off as a decent sized ass because of it, even though I was just feeling homesick, insecure, and just trying to validate a life that I felt (or that I felt others felt) was unvalid. How else do you fit in when you don't know all the memories and good ol' times they are talking about?

Now I don't open my mouth much about home. If you ask me where I'm from I'll say "I live in Denver." When before I would say "I grew up in Papua New Guinea". Now if you say "Nice bag" I'll say "Thank you" instead of "Thanks, it's actually a Bilum. It's from Papua New Guinea . . ." I no longer open my mouth to tell someone how absolutely perfect the weather is, or how it would rain and it would be the best thing in the world, or how they would burn mountains and it would rain ash, or how the ditches would flood, or how good Beef Crackers taste, or how every Christmas we would get Dr. Pepper and Mountain Dew in from America and we would all go crazy over it, or how I would walk up and down the dirt streets for hours, or how I would throw stones at my best friends window and she would come out and talk to me late at night, or how there were earthquakes that I'm petrified of, or how I road BMX bikes and the kicked my ass half the time, or how we would go gumiing on the river, or how we would hang out in the haus win, or how the fog sets in on the valley, or how you could hear the rain on the roofs all the way across center, or how our water was gravity fed and the water pump was right outside my window and I loved falling asleep to that sound . . .

I don't talk about those things any more. If you ask me my mind will freeze, go blank, and I won't know what to tell you. I'll probably just stutter around and quickly change the subject. Consequently I don't talk about anything any more. I guess I'm just out of words.

Today I Learned . . .

2008-03-13T22:03:00.003-06:00

You can't fight control with control, or hate with hate, or fire with fire (well sometimes you can fight with fire but we won't get into that) . . . it is just fuels the argument that you are trying to put out. Not only does it fuel their argument but then you end up catching their controlling germs and you are even worse off!

My advise is this, shut your mouth!! You will probably get into similar situations and as it is starting you will be thinking "uh oh, I should really keep my mouth shut" but then of course they say something so off course and that is so easy to correct that you get sucked in and you open your mouth and the person says ... "hmm yes, but blab blab blab" and when you say well I really don't like talking about these kinds of things because everyone can have their own interpretation and it is just a waste of time--"hmm oh yes of course, but I really think . . ."

AAUGH! These people just throw me off kilter so much--they scramble my thoughts and do not bring any sort of clarity! Their story confuses me . . . they are pointing to A while saying to K.

It helps to have a friend near by when you are confronted with such people--they watch your back.

2008-03-11T19:38:00.002-06:00

According to one source, "women are a complicated and men are simple . . . meaning that women are not as predictable or straightforward as men" (to paraphrase). But, I on the other hand am an exception: I'm complex.

Now what in the world does that mean? I'm okay with being complex. I am actually kind of glad I am. I like who I am, sure I may be a handful for myself at times but I like my complexities. But what I don't like is the connotations that come along with someone saying that I'm complex. Like what in the world does that mean--especially when it is coming from a near stranger.

I don't even know what that means . . .
I think, so sue me.

Hmm

2008-03-10T02:17:00.002-06:00

So I just reconnected with a REALLY old friend and old crush. I hardly knew her.
We were chatting and joking about how we were meant to be and how it is destiny that we are talking now and how we are just perfect for each other (even though she has a boyfriend). It was all really light hearted and sarcastic. It was good. Then we started talking about text messaging and phone calls which lead to human interaction (which all ties into one of my literature classes and films I've been watching). So then I said:
"but we are so so reliant on technology and we have things like myspace and facebook to connect people and bring people together and it does like with you and I. But does it really? Is sitting alone in my room on my computer really interaction? Is that really bringing me closer to people? Or is it just isolating me more?"

The conversation kind of ended shortly after that... I wonder. Do I open up to fast? Am I so abrasive to the reality that people live in that people close their eyes to the validity of my questions?

Or am I just exhausted and it is just late?

2008-02-17T23:13:00.006-07:00

Life is a mighty strange thing. We are beings who seek justice and practice injustice. We yearn and desire love, as we bitterly hate. We cry out for mercy, as we condemn. We are a people who are searching for life yet we choose death. We are searching for life, yet we kill.

What are we doing here? Have we no sense? We exalt our selves; we exalt other men. We put our hope in this that will vanish with fire. We put our hope in people who cannot tell the rain where to fall. We worship ourselves when we do not determine if we will live to see tomorrow. We cling so tightly to the façade of control while we are blown by the wind.

Is there not more than this? Why do we whore ourselves out for so little—enslaving ourselves to thing that slowly kill and suffocate us? Why do we whore ourselves out for so little? Why do we whore ourselves out for so little? Why do we whore ourselves out for so little? We are worth so much more. We are worth so much more. We sell ourselves to the lowest bidder when there is a Lover who has sold everything. There is a Lover that has sold everything to be with me—to buy me, and yet I pass my Lover for the lowest bid from someone who despises me.

I am a man for sale—each day I sell the minutes of my day . . . for some reason I so often choose death when I long for life. I choose the one who condemns over the one who gives mercy. I chose hate when I long for love. I lust after injustice while everything within me is weeping for justice to come and bring life to the land. I whore myself out to the things that bring me death as I desire life. Each day a woman calls from the highest place in the city and says, “Come and have life! I have paid a great price and I have set a beautiful table for you to come to eat with me. I greatly desire you for you are so beautiful to me. You are everything I long for! You are everything I fight for. You are everything. It is you that I dream about at night. It is you that I my heart thinks of each morning as I wake. I say, ‘Today? Will it be today that my lover comes to me for I have paid such a price to have to one I love. None other will do. I won’t be satisfied until I have you in my arms, until you are safe in my house. I will not rest until I have you because I want to bring you life. I want to bring you out of death. I want to wash your wounds. I want to sing over you. I want to weep with you. I want to be with you every moment of every day. There is nothing else I want. There is nothing I want from you . . .I just want to give you life. Will today be the day?’

2008-01-26T00:42:00.000-07:00

I'm such a screw up. At least I feel like it. I really didn't do anything wrong or that horrible today but I feel like I'm a 100% complete failure. I get lunch with some people and I feel so out of sync. My cousins are here with there kids and I feel like I'm messes up and making a fool of myself at every turn of the corner. They think I'm an alcoholic when I have a drink maybe once every 2-3 weeks. I probably said the word hell in front of their innocent children. I make a fool out of myself every time I talk because I can't express myself worth the sand in the Sahara desert. I leave my bar of soap out in the middle of the damn living room because I forgot it there in the midst of vacating my room for them while trying to find a place to sleep/live for a few nights. I say things like "brown nose" in front of their kids and the my mom has to give me a hard time about it with the whole "Do you know what that means." I step out of my comfort zone, putting myself in an awkward place only because I so strongly feel like it is something that I need to do and it seem to crumble like the World Trade Center on 9/11. I mean COMMON!!! I feel so stupid. So foolish. So out of place.

I get blamed for people missing their flight, I look like a fool when speaking publicly. I feel so worthless. I feel so incredibly screwed and shamed. I feel like a broken pot. A scratched record.

Someone bury me.

Two of my Favorite Quotes . . .

2007-12-25T13:02:00.000-07:00

"I'm sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody."
- J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey

J.D. Salinger . . . from Seymour: An Introduction: "If only you'd remember before ever you sit down to write that you've been a reader long before you were ever a writer. You simply fix that fact in your mind, then sit very still and ask yourself, as a reader, what piece of writing in all the world Buddy Glass would most want to read if he had his heart's choice. The next step is terrible, but so simple I can hardly believe it as I write it. You just sit down shamelessly and write the thing yourself. I won't even underline that. It's too important to be underlined. Oh, dare to do it, Buddy ! Trust your heart. You're a deserving craftsman. It would never betray you. Good night. I'm feeling very much overexcited now, and a little dramatic, but I think I'd give almost anything on earth to see you writing a something, an anything, a story, a poem, a tree, that was really and truly after your own heart. "

Merry-white-Christmas

10 unlisted reason in rant form of how I lame I am

2007-12-21T20:54:00.000-07:00

Well. I haven't written lately. I was busy with finals, and they I was busy recovering from finals . . . which meant actually working more and getting less sleep. Figures right. Today I went to work and they didn't have anything for me so I went Christmas shopping for myself. I hate shopping because I don't really have the money to spend on clothes, and I'm indecisive, and I'm kinda picky about what I wear. Shopping alone is all the worse because I can't even get opinions for someone. Luckily for me there was a cute girl working at Dillard's who came shopping with me for about 2 hours--helping me pick out clothes and giving me her honest opinion about what it looked like on me. It really made Christmas shopping for myself enjoyable. I don't remember ever having as much fun shopping as I did with her. Oh well. She has a boyfriend.

I came home and I had nothing to do, no one to call, and nothing to eat. Lucas is lame. So I went to Olive Garden, and had my sister serve me dinner! I told the GM that she was the best waiter I have ever had. He came back 5 minutes later saying "Oh. So your her brother huh!" haha aah yeah but hey it worked out well--he only charged me for my wine!!

I guess that today wasn't that bad . . . I had a great time shopping with a good looking girl. and I got a 20 dollar meal for about 6 bucks (but I did tip my lovely sister extremely well). The sad part is that I can only find people someone who is being paid to come shop with me and I had dinner alone. The glad part is I had someone to shop with me and it was a lot of fun, and my sister served me a cheap meal.

Is this the life I've been handed--or is this the life I choose to lead?

Naiveté

2007-12-07T19:30:00.000-07:00

I am young. I am naive. It is true. I know that I am. I want to change the world. I want to start a revolution. I want to see things shifted. Is my head is just full of far fetched, unrealistic, idealistic ideas? I know that there have been people who choice to take a stand and change the world. I know that there have been people who decided to look like fools, sound like fools, and were treated like fools for a vision, for something they truly believed in. And I am sure there have been even more people who, when they were young, wanted to change the world. But they grew up, the world got to them--something got to them--and they mellowed out. They got to a point at must have put their hands up and said, "I guess I was young kid with fanciful ideas . . . that didn't line up with how the world worked."

I know that in some respects I look at the world and say, "but no, this is how it should be--and it can be like this." I know that I have these wild dreams of change that . . . that even I look at and say "Lucas, you are young . . . you don't know anything yet. You are so green, so wet behind the ears. There are hundreds and thousands who grew up, looked back, and thought boy I thought I was something--I didn't know a damn thing. Lucas, imagine what people say behind your back--yeah he has passion . . . it's good. But he is young. He'll grow up and simmer down . . . he will one day see how things really are . . . when he is older. Lucas, who are you gonna be? Are you going to look back and say, boy I was young. Lucas you could always just shut your mouth and live for another decade or two, and then speak up when you actually know what this life is really about."

Yeah people I know. I see myself. But what about Ghandi? Martin Luther? Martin Luther King. jr.? Or John Milton? Wilberforce?

One day I may look back and say what I'm saying today--"Okay Lucas you didn't know how the world worked," or I could say, "Yeah I learned along the way but because of sticking to my silly ideas I changed history."

I think both are better than saying--"I wonder what could have been . . ."

Attachings (Back on topic)

2007-12-06T16:39:00.000-07:00

I realize this entry maybe be a little ways out there, as far as bringing it down to earth as something concrete, but I will try my best.

I, as you may not have guess, definitely believe in the spirit realm. My vantage point of this has been rooted in my upbringing--it happens when you lived in Haiti and Papua New Guinea. Haiti is a country which literally gave their country over to the devil and demons; I don't know the details off hand but they pretty much sat down as a country, sang songs, worshiped demons, and dedicated their land to them. It is not a wonder that their country is in shambles. Papua New Guinea is half of the island of New Guinea, which is the second largest island in the world. The population is about 6 million, and they speak over 800 different languages. Africa--the continent--has 800 million people who speak over 800 different languages. Papua New Guinea is still in the stone age. Literally. The reason for there being so many different languages in such a small space is because the country is so rugged. A accurate generalization of the mindsets--and reality to an extent--in PNG is if someone dies it is because someone in the waring tribe did witchcraft and practiced black magic against them or whatever. A majority of the time I'm sure it is true. I say all that to say that what I'm talking about isn't really all too out there.

Spirit--namely unclean or demonic spirits--can attach themselves to people. I'm not talking about spiritually possession, but oppression. I understand that difference between the two by possession being that the spirit is actually inside of you, while oppression is that the spirit is on top of you, clinging on to you, and pressing you down. Many times when people with this mindset see others who are sick, or just struggling with issues, what have you, they instantly think that it is due to something that is causing it in the spiritual realm. Many times that is the case. But, all to often we end up getting ourselves in bad situations or seasons in life because of choices we have made. It is really easy to turn and just put the blame else where, but it isn't always the case. This is a two way street because when we do really stupid things we open doors that allow for spiritual oppression. So often there is spiritual involvement taking place in that comes due to our choices. Then, there are times when people are just people and messed up and there isn't anything spiritual necessarily going on and being involved. Why? Because there doesn't need to be anything to further that persons anger, or alcoholisms, or manipulation, or self pity. Why send an battle ship to sink a sail boat that is missing 75% of it's hull? Some people are just running themselves into the ground. I understand that it is hard and it isn't easy to turn things around, but some are still choosing to live, and perpetuate their problems. There is a fine balance in this, but I don't know what it is.

With all of the above being said, I recently was introduced to this girl named Ellen. This is not her real name. I don't think that she will read this but I think it would be polite considering the topic matter. A mutual friend had us meet because we "have a lot in common." Great. Well it was true. We had both gone through some similar circumstances and seasons in life, and at the time this happened she was in the middle of a rough season that I had started passing through a few years ago. I was in that season directly because of the choices that I had made in the preceding decade. From the decision I made I had opened doors spiritually that allowed me to become spiritually oppressed without me really realizing it. I am being vague only because I don't have time to write the book and you don't have time to read it. Coming out of that season was rough, transition that brought me out of that really nasty place has recently come to an end. Now as I said before I was spiritually oppressed and my "deliverance" from that was pretty much a scene from any good movie. Shaking. Screaming. Thrashing. The Whole bit. Accept I just in my mind was like "What in the world is going on!?! Help me Jesus!" I had absolutely no control. Crazy I know. (Last time you read this blog huh?)

So Ellen and I . . . well I really didn't get along with her. I can get along with almost anyone. I know how to have a conversation and at worse the person may be a little annoying and I would just prefer to talk to someone else. But Ellen--she stressed me out. She would be talking about I don't even know what, and I would stop being able to processes her words. It would feel like an anxiety attack was coming on. I could feel myself just thinking, I need to get out of here, I need to get out of here, I need to get out of here. I would like freak out anytime she would start talking about something personal. I have never had anything like this happen to me before. I wish I could describe it better. . . Imagine a boa constrictor starting to coil around your feet. Then your legs. Your unable to walk. Your stomach. You feel is begin to squeeze and you don't know how to get out. Ribcage. breathing. Arms are still free as it comes up to your armpits. What to you do? That is exactly how she made me feel. I didn't quite know why. Our "friendship" ended when she called me and was talking about . . . who knows. Probably talking about why I couldn't handle her. I told her that we needed to end to just stop talking before I said something to make her feel worse (there had already been a lot of drama). She said "Oh you can make me feel worse?" And with my last gasp of air I said "I have to go" and hung up the phone.

Well--after some thought I have realized that she is/was under the same kind of oppressive spirit that I was under. What was attached to her was something that had attached itself to me for many years. So what was essentially happening in the spirit realm was that my spirit recognized the unclean spirit that was attached to her spirit. My spirit was able to sense the same demonic oppression that had oppressed it for so long--all it could do was scream "RUN LIKE HELL YOU FOOL!" See this demonic spirit was trying to operate it's powers over be since it knew I had been suffocated by it for so long.

Now, just running away from the situation and leaving her stranded in that place is not the right thing to do. In fact, if I had realized at the time what was happening I would have known that I just needed to take up my authority in Christ over that spirit. In fact I had much more authority in that situation then I though I had because I had already over come this kind of spirit! The reason that I was feeling such anxiety was also because this spirit recognized what had be on me and the authority that I have over him. Thus pushing me away so that he could keep what isn't his. Does that make sense?

Like I said--a little far out there, some speculation in my conclusion, nothing concrete really. But the practical application is three fold: 1) Be careful of your decisions, they can open doors into your life that should remain shut; 2) If there are doors open because of things you have done--stop doing the things and close the door; 3) Authority--this is a entirely other book, but long of it short--when we have authority in a situation exercise the authority, but there are different realms of authority, don't try to exercise authority in a sphere of influence that you don't have authority it. In other words you can march into the white house and tell Bush what to do but it will not bode well with you.

I hope that was helpful. And if you have any questions, comments, or would like any clarification, I will be happy to assist you.
Hmm . . . Light verses Darkness?

BLAZE!

2007-12-04T22:24:00.000-07:00

To be honest . . . I'm just so fired up that I don't know what to say, and I don't know what to do, and I even--to a point sick and effin tired of just TALKING about it! Man!!!

I just wanna let loose some how and shift this globe! It is like I wanna just turn into a raging were-wolf and explode throughout the crowded streets of the land and just . . . rip people head to foot so that they would catch this fire too and become alive! I just want to rip every person up so that they catch what I have, so that they can know this life!! So they get literally drop who they think they are and become who they have been created to be!!! FREEDOM!!! FIRE!!! REVOLUTION!!! I have to have a revolution! Nothing else will do!

That being said I'm gonna stop talking about it and I'm gonna go start doing what ever I can to make it happen.

And CIA or FBI or anyone else who might read this PLEASE call me up, take me in, whatever do what you do, because I wanna talk to you! I want to light a fire in you that will radically change you life! You know where to find me so make it happen.

In closing I thought a fiery sunset would do it--

(unrelated topic)

2007-12-03T21:19:00.000-07:00

Maybe arranged marriage IS the answer.

It would save me a whole hell lot of a trouble.

I can't say as much for the girl though.

Sad story.Need I say more? (I must have been feeling insecure that day eh?)

Maintaining Versus Building

2007-11-30T17:53:00.000-07:00

If I am not mistaken--and I don't believe I am--the Ancient Greeks has the cultural mindset of continually looking over your shoulder to the past so that you would be able to maintain who you are, and your family legacy, if you will; whereas in the Roman culture you had to continually look forward and build a name for yourself--you had to make who you were to become, not maintain.

In our culture we have two very similar mindsets. There is the whole "follow in your father's footsteps and become a doctor or a lawyer", and the "pull your self up by your bootstraps and achieve the American dream." I fall right in the middle I believe--that is I do both, except not in the context of living up to my fathers reputation or living the American dream. I have realized that more the most part I believe that I will naturally become who I am meant to become. I guess it is more of a "well my future is already fated" type of mindset. But lately I have realized that it is in my hands what is said of me when I die. I have to choice to become who I desire to become. This will only come through sacrifice and discipline. What unfortunate words--sacrifice and discipline. I don't think I like those much even thought that is what is required to succeed in life and become the person I want to be. And if you haven't guessed by now in reading this blog I'll clue you in--I more or less have no idea. Okay, well I have some idea, but I don't know what I want to be said of me when I die. No clue.

The only clue that I have is something that Fanny Glass said in "Franny" by J. D. Salinger, "I'm sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody"

The only problem is I'm not quite sure what that looks like.

I know that I have to work to maintain who I have become, and work to build who I am becoming. I know that requires discipline and sacrifice.

Hmm this was one big ramble. Sorry folks.

2007-11-25T14:41:00.000-07:00

Do you ever feel heavy . . . weighted? Not in a, I-wish-I-could-lose-a-few-kilos way but in the there-is-something-weighty-in-the-air-and-I-can't-speak sort of way.

It happens. Today I have that. I just didn't want to speak. I couldn't speak. I had no words. Words would have cheapened the air and the importance that was weighing upon my bones.

It is like Radon--the heaviest gas--it fall to the floor. It sticks the the floor. It is deadly. It has weight. Importance. Priority. I have breathed it in--and now it is the only thing I need. I have breathed my last breath. It is all I want to breath. I will die breathing radon because it has filled my lungs and there it stays. I feel the weight. I have breathed. I can not escape. I no longer have a choice. It has claimed my life. It has pulled me down as a slave. I have no choice but to carry this weighty air.

So this is my burden--my burden to death.

Post Secret?

2007-11-24T22:21:00.000-07:00

You all have heard of Post Secret yes? It is where you write a secret on a postcard and send it in anonymously and then they publish it for the world to see. That way you share your secret but no one knows that it is yours! (http://postsecret.blogspot.com/) Well here is mine--except that I'm not sending it in and you all know who I am.

Hmm . . . this is just who I am today.

Communication

2007-11-23T17:19:00.001-07:00

How much has technology hindered our ability to communicate? Technology has of course given people the utilities to contact almost anyone at any moment for anywhere to anywhere. It is quite amazing, but what has that done to us? What has that done to me?

It seems as though all of my communication is done through some kind of medium: Telephone, internet, email, postal system, Starbucks, etc. Now I realize it could just be me and the time in place in my life in which I am at but . . . I find myself falling into the belief that I need these things. I see myself wanting something--companionship, friendship, conversation--and I end up turning to these to satisfy an eternal longing that things have never been able to and will never be able to fulfill. Communicating through the third party of technology has become a mindset and almost an addiction. To put it quite bluntly--I'm yearning to encounter and talk with God face to face but I'm stuck behind a paradigm of needing something physical to grab onto him through. Yet I do talk to him through my day and--believe it or not--he talks back. Yet, I often don't find that satisfying for me. I wonder how much technology has colored my perception of communication. The ability of communication that I have gained through technology has not done much for me. I could talk on the phone, sit and have coffee, write never ending emails, read never ending emails, chat to the late hours of the night . . . I could do it all for days and when it is all said and done I'm just left wanting more. I'm yearning for the Eternal. My actions are completely foolish. Insanity. Day after day I turn to find this satisfaction through resources that are limited. So limited in fact that even as I'm in the middle of talking with people I'm not satisfied. I'm never satisfied.

Foolishness.

2007-11-21T21:59:00.000-07:00

What am I suppose to be seeing?
What does it look like.

It is as if I'm standing on railroad tracks. I'm looking down the line. It goes on forever into an empty landscape with nothing drawing nearing, with nothing in site. Is this not the course that has been mapped out? Is this not the way to travel? But . . . it goes. It doesn't go to you. To the left and the right of this track--right next to me, I can see trees, growth, and foliage. I stand upon the tracks as they sit upon the raised rocks. I fear to turn to the left or to the right, until I see the mountain to my left. The mountain I've be looking for, chasing after, yearning for. This track is not my way to the Mountain. It just circles the mountain. It is just a scenic view. I don't want that. I want to grapple with it. Climb it. Know it. I want to touch. Something has been lying to me, telling me not to go to the left or the right of this track, but the track is to the left and to the right of my path, the path to the mountain. I'm not going to listen to that voice. I'm not going to listen to what those people are saying. I don't need a train to get to where I'm going. I don't need a plane. I don't need to wait for a helicopter to whoosh me off to look at the mountain some more. I don't have to wait to grow up, or be older, or be wiser. I'm going now. I'm going now. I'm going now. No one can stop me. I mute the voices that give me the best of all of their blind advice. I'm going for so much more than they have ever even dared to dream of--I will not wait. I will not follow their broken way. I'm going to the mountain. I'm running, climb, forging rivers, scaling cliffs. I will not wait decades. I will not listen to you. My time is now. My time is now. Now--for there is no later in life. You will only and alway exist in "now". I have found my way--I refuse to follow yours.

Tired.

2007-11-18T23:34:00.000-07:00

I am tired.
My sleep schedule went out the window.
I have papers due soon.
Blast.

I am thankful for a break.

7-11, Chap-stick, and a Chap.

2007-11-12T22:27:00.000-07:00

I admit that this blog is slightly counter to the premise of this blog but . . . I can't be serious all the time. Sorry.

Today I walked into 7-11 to buy some chap-stick. The problem is the Denver is really dry so my lips are always dry. The second problem is that I always lose chap-stick. As I was into to 7-11 I see a nice warning in the far corner window about how some of the foods that 7-11 sells cause cancer [picture pending].

I walk in find some over priced chap-stick and then begin to wait in line. About 2.71 seconds into my wait in line I hear a, "Haw oode aw yu?" From a [I'm not sure what the correct PC word for African-American is these day] young man who looked about 24 or 27, who looked a little strung out on drugs. He wasn't sickly thin or anything--just a little slow.

I replied quite kindly, "excuse me?"
"Haw oode aw yu?"
"How old am I?"
"Noah, How aare you?"
"Oh I'm doing good thank you . . . how are you?"
"I'm blessed mahn I'm blessed--I hope your blessed too mahn"
"Oh good, thank you . . . so why are you blessed?"
"My father's a mason . . ."
"A mason . . . ?"
"Yeh, you know what ah mason is don't ya . . ."
"Yes I do"
"I know ya do, I know ya do"
"Yeah"
"I'm a freeman . . ."
"aah"
"You know what ah . . ."
"Yup"
"I know you do, I know you do . . . yeah see my fathers a mason"
"awesome"
"Yeah man I hope yer blessed man, be very blessed man"
"Thank you . . . you too"

I bought my stick of chap-stick which came to two-something with tax (rip off) and continued on my way back to work to the wonderful world of data entry . . . and buying air freshener and over priced candles for the business that happens in our bath rooms--not me.

Interesting.

Focus.

2007-11-09T11:19:00.000-07:00

Around 1 am, or maybe 3am, or 5am (yeah kinda a rough night sleep) a thought came to me.

We see the world through our eyes. Our eyes are windows. Windows are glass. We see the world through glass. Everything that we perceive goes through our filters, the way we view the world. In essence we view the world through glasses--mine are pretty thick.

We see the world through lenses--or glass. We walk around a long time with our thick glasses on trying to make our way through life. Then we see the glass. We take the glass off and everything looks really crazy and messed--but that is just because we do have perfect vision but because we so use to the lenses to see the world. At this point in time we think we have taken off our glasses and see clearly, but what we don't realize is that we have an infinite number of lenses on. Sooner or later we see more glass and the process repeats until death.

The thing is if we would to be able to take all the glass out from before our eyes at once we would be able to see everything quite clearly--yet it we wouldn't be able to recognize anything because we live life disorientate and to us the correct orientation would look really awful.

Therefore it is a process we go through--or should go through, yet we have the choice to not examine life. Each time we experience a paradigm shift we see through a slightly thinner lens, and each time we see through a slightly different lens it takes time to process the world through that lens. We then have a choice to choose whether or not we want to see more glass and recognize the lens we view life or keep on living with out renewing our minds.

Oh to have a constant mind that is ever-changing. What a living hell of continually dieing to what we perceive as life in order to have the continually joy of truly living life.

Lucas = shameful failure

2007-11-08T12:04:00.000-07:00

So I just ran into this kid from a few semesters ago . . . don't know him too well. We were talking about school, and then I mentioned getting lunch--taco bell--and probably going to die from cancer from eating taco bell. We laughed and I said hey why not, life is a journey right? So might as well get to the end of it and see what's there. Steve the said, "When you died of colon cancer and go to heaven you have cancer for eternity." huh? So I asked--"so you mean when we die of cancer in heaven . . . ?"

"No, when you die of cancer here and you go to heaven you still have cancer. If God is going to send you to heaven then why does he give you cancer? What is he just--"ha, that was a good one huh Bob almost stopped going to church there for a moment. I was just testing your patients. . . since I loved ya I gave you cancer!"

I froze--that totally came out of no where. Why does bad things happen to "good people" . . .

I think I might have mumbled something about how I didn't understand and I don't think we understand. It is a "fallen" world right? People die.

I just want to go and have a rock fall on me . . . or something.

I've been reading Psalms 136. A lot. Keeps on saying that God's "steadfast love endures forever." . . . give thanks to "him who led his people through the wilderness, for his steadfast love endures forever." That line stuck out to me. God leads people into the wilderness and hard times because he loves us. (?). I don't think I know what love is. I've been asking what love is. My perspective of loving people is a little different than Gods--obviously.

What a spineless wretch I am. No discipline.

I think I have already used this picture . . . but here I am spineless.

Anyone? Any thoughts? . . .

I thought I would share . . .

2007-11-07T23:08:00.000-07:00

Yes . . . trees. But other things too!!

I should seriously win something for this shot.
Energized Man

Black Boxes

Random writing painting . . .

Lined Paper Painting . . .
Starbucks sells PNG coffee.

Where is the line? Is there a line?

2007-11-06T19:03:00.000-07:00

I think there are different ways that you can love someone--and I'm not talking about sex here folks.

I have a certain situation in mind, and I'm just not sure how to love rightly in said circumstance. I'm not even sure how to set my problem into type. I'll give you a small concrete example of the larger more abstract aspect of my problem.

I have a friend--lets just call her Angel, because that happens to actually be her name. I love her--not "in love,"Big difference there. And because she is so stressed trying to get her wedding together she has taken up smoking again. Probably just a couple a day--no not a couple packs, just a few cigarettes. Her fiance doesn't know. Smoking isn't a really big deal to me--sure it isn't exactly healthy for you but . . . I use to smoke, and it was always a social thing for me. So yeah . . . I'm not the type to lecture her about how she really shouldn't be smoking because it is so unhealthy and it is just so horrible that she isn't telling her fiance this because, (1) it isn't a big deal, (2) I understand that she is super stressed trying to plan a wedding, and (3) well I don't need a third reason. So I would sit and have a cigarette with her after class and talk--like I said, it is a social thing.

Now this is a small glimpse of a larger issue. When does me loving her by understanding her and sitting and smoking stops being loving and becomes something other her. When does that become slowly killing her? Now I don't think that this is going to turn into a huge issue, and I know it is just a temporary thing. I'm just using this as an example of the larger conundrum. So--IF this was truly serious issue (take this smoking thing and multiply it by eternity) when do I take my stand and say--"okay, no more. This is reality and this is the truth and what you are doing has to stop other wise there are going to be big problems down the line . . ." possibly putting the friendship on the line out of love for her.

When does my silence out of love become cruelty and selfishness because of fear--fear of being just another one of those people who think they know everything . . . fear of losing a really great friend. Where is the line?

There is a saying--"Speak truth in love."
Easier said than done.

(I thought this would be an appropriate picture)
(feedback?)

Shiftings

2007-11-03T22:46:00.000-06:00

It is funny how perspectives change. About oh . . . a month and a half ago, I had what I will call an encounter with a lady. I say encounter because I did not really meet her in the introduced sorts of way. She just has a very . . . intimidating presence in a room. Man, it would be a really scary thing to receive a rebuke or any sort of corrective word from her. She stands about 5 foot 11, and she use to be a lawyer--but still young, I would say 40's. So hear I am, a little intimated by her authority thinking "man I just hopes she doesn't look at me and I hope I don't do anything wrong here because it would be scary as all hell to screw up. Well what do you know--lucas screws up (slightly I won't go in to the details because there would just be so much I would have to explain)--and she gives me a little instruction/correction and I shrunk under her authority--ah the pleasures of trying to navigate a new place when you don't know the rules.

As it would turn out I had a really incorrect perception of this woman. A few weeks later--after I literally pick my self up off the floor--she talks to me. She very kindly asks me my name, and then proceeds to read my mail. And she was so . . . hospitable about it all. Next thing I know she invites me to a conference, pays my way, and treats me like a guest (which essentially I was). It was just . . . really I don't know kind. I can't put it into word. She was so hospitable to me and served me when I should be serving her. What a leader.

So yes I still fear and respect her authority, but I now realize that she has an authority that is to be respected out of her grace, mercy, and love--not out of ruling with an iron fist.

This above is only a dusty blurred reflection through a person of the way that God is.

And . . .

2007-11-03T14:32:00.000-06:00

And sometimes when you see things you just have to speak them out--even if it makes no sense.

Sometimes . . .

2007-11-01T11:50:00.000-06:00

Sometimes to see and hear we have to be silent. Well . . . almost every time. But just because we see and hear doesn't mean we should say and do what we saw and heard.

In other words . . . silence, or stillness, is required in order to witness our surroundings and sealed lips are often needed after absorbing what has taken--or is taking--place.

Toast, Fine Food, & Coffee

2007-10-31T21:49:00.000-06:00

After an exhausting day there is nothing better to write about than Toast, Fine Food, & Coffee. Now I have never patronized the restaurant, but I'm assuming it is quite the place for first dates and marriage proposals . . . hmm, maybe not. But Toast is a place on my to do list.

Now I'm asking myself--as I'm sure you are asking yourselves--what they hell does this have to do with Seeing and Hearing and the Hero of hero's: Seymour Glass? Well as far as Seymour goes . . . I would like to think that this would be just the kind of place that Seymour would eat a late breakfast while smoking a cigarette and writing a letter to Buddy about writing. Or maybe it is Buddy sitting writing a story about Seymour writing a letter to Buddy about Buddy's writing as he is sitting in the shop smoking and writing. I could be wrong. As far as everything else? Well I think we can learn something here; at least I'm going to try to learn something.

First, I'm going to learn that it is completely possible to learn from mundane things in everyday life--like the sign I pass half-a-dozen times a week. Mundane things make up life. I want to live life. I don't want to just live for the exciting moments. I want to live each moment. So I must live the mundane things--because that is life. Life is all about learning. So to have life I must be learning from the mundane so that I can live. Or, to take it out of English--living life is learning from the lukewarm.

This point is the first and the last thing I want to learn. I'm learning this now so I can see what I can learn; then at the end I should be able to learn that this is in fact true. Now you already have points one and three--if you are taking notes.

The second lesson to learn falls back upon perspective. How do I view the world? I still haven't figured out if it is a good to focus on the glass, or to focus on what is past the glass. Should the windows be open and the doors be closed? Does seeing more glass mean that I'm seeing through things and seeing how they really are? Or does it mean I'm seeing through object and I'm missing reality. Do I focus on the pane of glass? Or do I focus on looking past the glass into the world beyond. Please, if you have an answer or an idea . . . answer me. I'm guessing it is both. The answer is always both--with exceptions of course.

Should not I wake in the morning and sit down and enjoy Toast, Fine Food--whatever happens to tops my toast--and Coffee? Shouldn't toast and coffee be considered fine food? When we (I) start making breakfast boring, and life dull? Why did we?

Toast: a dried piece of bread, or fine food?

So much for a short post . .

wanderings

2007-10-30T21:34:00.000-06:00

There is something about fruit that is really good--especially after a lengthy day with a mounting cold. It is quite fresh and refreshing--not may things in our every day lives refresh us as they should. The majority of our lives really should be refreshing because we have to make it through some how right? We take things for granted . . . well I do at least.

Today was in fact a refreshing day. I woke up late. Drove downtown instead of taking the train. Grabbed lunch and coffee for three hours with a friend; we really had a good time just visiting with each other. Then I went off to have coffee with another friend for another two-and-a-half hours. I got home physically tired, which the fruit fixed, yet mentally refreshed. I have realized I spent a lot of my life striving and trying to gain approval in the eyes of man, and the eyes of God. I break my back at times to win favor. I feel like I have to do all the right things and work my ass off in order for man to find value in me and for God to love me. What a bunch of rubbish. Not only will I never please man, but they just don't even mater--they will never value me for who I am if I'm bending over backwards to shine their shoes. They will only value my service I do for them, not me for who I am. Man will use my service toward their full advantage, and once I'm gone they will forget the time I invested.

And, as far as God goes . . . I don't think he wants me to hate life, nor does he want me to stop doing simple things I enjoy--such as writing, or reading random musings, or wasting time looking at leafs on a tree. I think He wants me to know him. Not in the I-can-recite-the-entire-damn-bible-backwards-and-forwards way but knowing like . . . like knowing a person. Knowing like intimacy. So much of what I do is to try to gain God's love for me, or something along those lines . . . I don't know. It is like I'm trying to measure up to the level of goodness that I or the "church" has set: in order for God to love me I have to do x, y, and z--other wise He isn't happy with me. It isn't like that. There is a huge dynamic that I am missing--interaction. I've heard the cliche many times about how it is a "relationship not a religion" I think in a way the saying is true--but I also think that a lot of people say that but still do religion. It is like saying, "hands are for holding objects (what have you), they aren't wings for flying" and then they proceed to flap as hard as they can trying to fly.

There is so much more. I'm really sick and tired of flapping my hands trying to fly. They say, "Oh it about grace etc. etc." and then they proceed to tell you how you need to do all these things to be a good Christian, and I'm sorry but there is something that I must have missed along the way. I'm going to chase after God and find him. I'm not after theology or doctrine because God is not theology; God is not doctrine. I want something real--and sure yeah He is real to me now, but I've hit this wall and I can't see what is on the other side, and I don't hear what is there, but I know something it there. I'm going to get over, past, around this wall anyway I can because I have to know.

I'm tired. I'm rambling. I'm going to bed. I'm trying to work things out here--trying to flush my thoughts out for myself. That's all. God should not be draining--He has to be refreshing. That may not look exactly like what I might think it should, but to be honest with myself and with God--if God isn't refreshing then I don't think I want much to do with Him, and I doubt He would want much do to with me. I know this isn't the case . . .

Not About Love (a short story I wrote a while ago)

2007-10-29T22:56:00.000-06:00

We went over that bridge out through the gate, to the other side of the fence—the other side of the river. Away from our homes and houses and friends and family…away from protection and safety—to where we felt safe. Where we felt free in the light. To a place where we could just break down and cry from the great relieve of a weight upon us, cry about that great weight. It haunted us. But we didn't cry.

Off a dirt road onto another, surrounded by fields of coffee we stopped and sat. Just us two. Behind a large rock, under the shade of the tree—we sat on our bikes and smoked. I think it was after that night. Where at dawn we saw a spirit land on a post at the place where it happened. Where her imprint still stuck to the—now dew soaked—grass from the night before. He was not with us, but we had to be with him… standing here all night in the cold, watching the fog come in, to give us cover for a little longer before the night completely left us; we kept watch for those men who we knew would not return. But what else could we do to be with them? So we watched anyway. The fog was lifted by the light and we were visible again—so we hid. But now—we sit on our bikes under a tree on a road, off of a road, a road lined with trees, and smoked with our backs facing a field of dark green bushes—set in lines waiting to be picked. We faced another field of countless rows. A field on our left separated by a road, and a road traveling to the right, into a forest in the distance. All around us stood mountains; mountains that felt what was inside of us while we stood in the daylight hiding; mountains rolled green with kunai; mountains that raged with fire lighting up the night sky like villages being razed, turning the mountain black, sending ash raining down upon our heads, taking the ________ in our hearts and giving it back to us saying, I know, I know, this ash I cry for you, I know. And we heard and understood.

It was just us two. We traveled in the light to a place where we could be. We went away from all that was secure so we could feel safe and unshackled. We sat underneath that blue sky in a breeze that was steady as a baby's heart. We sat encased by mountains. We sat by a rock. We sat on our bikes. We were—under a tree. By the base of the tree, the joint of it; at the point where the tree changes; at the point where the trunk meets the roots and sky meets the dirt, where it is neither one nor the other; it is where the ground drinks of air and the sky eats of dirt—the point of the tree where the roots and the trunk—are. Where they exist. The joint of the tree. Where there is nothing—no time, no space, no nothing—where two people can just be. And we were—just us two—being able to be, and we came out of hiding from the light. We smoked.

When the darkness fell and covered us we were able to unmask in the surrounding constructions of man. We were able to take a breath of air—a breath of life. We would meet in a forest, above her house, in the freedom of darkness. Letting the smoke raise from our mouths, echoing what our words were finally able to say. It is different there. Trust me, you wouldn't understand. You wouldn't understand. The mountains are different there. But we are not changed here. No… oh no… we carry that place inside of us and it can never leave us. It will never leave us. In the darkness, his arm was around my shoulder; I held on to the two fingers of his hand; we walked. He was my wantok, wanpela polo stret. Like I told you… you wouldn't understand. But my words penetrated the silence and I did not hear them—but he did, he understood. I know, he said. Without him, without them, I had nothing you see. So we smoked. And that's how we were. That is how we were able to be. How we were able to breath. Don't you see? I'll have nothing.

They flew across the steel bridge crossing the river coming out onto a dirt road, cranking as hard as they could—fleeing to free their selves. Finding a spot, whether a Sunday or Thursday it doesn't quite matter, they stop, sitting down in the shade by the essence of a tree—where the tree is—they smoke. But it is just the two of them, no more, un-coding the other's voice on the wind, knowing that at this moment they are. Just are. They set each other free, letting their voices ring and be heard for what it means, not says—for what is on the inside that is killing them. It is what they have just crossed over from.

"But no, these mountains here…" he said, looking up at the dinge-brown rocky mountain, "they are different you see. You wouldn't understand; they don't become me. They don't burn."

untitled and unknowing

2007-10-28T23:05:00.000-06:00

How do you find life in the midsts of it? How can you see and understand what life is while you are in the thick of being alive. Maybe that is what death is--understanding a season of living called life.

Today, in the shower, I realized that I am a strange. strange creature. I have a consciousness. I read. I write. I have conversations with people. I eat. I walk. I sleep. I have emotions, longings, desires, confusion. I have a lot of confusion. What am I? What is this thing we all go through called life.

Do I accept the only thing that there is to accept and that is just live it and die? Or do I strive to comprehend . . .

I'm not sure how much I like this any more: having sight and not seeing, ears and not hearing. Or maybe it is having thoughts and not knowing. I'm not so sure that I'm just ignorant to my surroundings. It could be that I'm not able to see, hear, and know because it is impossible--or it could be just that I'm not perceiving the world correctly--or maybe I don't accept what I see.

Now I'm just walking in worthless circles. I guess what I am getting at is that I want to live. I want to know what life is. I want to know what God is. And I really don't.

I'm not sure if I'm satisfied with life.

Picking a Perch

2007-10-26T09:49:00.001-06:00

So much of our world is based on false paradigms and colored perspectives. This being the case how do we see and hear clearly, and from what vantage point are we most likely to get the best perspective.

I guess I see this problem being similar to scientist trying to find the position and speed of an electron. They can know one or the other but never both. Well I think seeing and hearing is much the same. If we perch at the top of a radio tower we are going to to be able to see a heck-ova-lot. We will see things far and wide and even right below us, but not in great detail. We will be able to hear sounds that carry across the plains but again not clearly. Or we can be down on the ground right in the muck of it all and we can see people in detail and we can hear the ticking of wristwatches. But our sight would be limited and hearing flooded.

This is nothing revelatory. But my question is how do we go about life and how could we go about it better?

I often distance myself from myself and from the truth. I usually approach things from the birds eye view--I get the big picture and I see what is going on. I see reality and I see the present but I don't go down and actually live and dwell in it. Why? because it is scary as hell. Because opening my intimate-self up to others and taking down my facade is not fun. Does that make sense? Does it makes sense that I step out side of myself and my world and I just watch me go through life? Yeah sure I can see a lot of what is going on but how much detail and vibrancy of life am I missing?

I think that I can also just live in the present and not really see what road I'm headed down because I know it won't look too great if I look at the big picture and I won't like what I see. So I keep my head down and I just say that this is reality because I don't want to see the consequences of my actions because I'm comfortable with how I'm doing things in the present.

I need a balance of vantage points in all of the area's of my life. I need to look at the big picture and then go down and change the how I live in the reality I exist in, and I also need to get out of the reality I live in so that I can see the big picture so that I know the road I'm headed down. It isn't one or the other--it is a balance of both. And it is hard--and I don't like it.

I guess there is a pay off in the end, maybe, where we can have a little bit of both--when we can see far and live close. That would be nice.

The Simple Things

2007-10-18T17:37:00.000-06:00

Fact: I love trees.

feels like home

2007-10-17T13:53:00.000-06:00

So here I am in one of my favorite places in the world—the airport. Why? Well, I'm not completely sure, but maybe it is because it is the one thing that hasn’t really changed in my life and because so much of my life has revolved around airports. Airports have, in a sense, been the pivot that my life has rotated around. And, here I am again . . . at a place in my life where nothing makes sense, nothing is clear, and everything is chaos in my mind. Chaos. This next week is going to be quite fitting for my mind set. I’m going to Dallas for five days and I only just found a place to sleep tonight last night. I’m suppose to be going to a conference with Anna—but she isn’t getting in till Thursday and I don’t know how I’m going to be getting around or if I’m even going to be going to the conference at this point. It is going to be somewhat of an adventure. I guess I am saying that I’m going to Dallas and I have no clue what I’m doing or where I’m going, which does a good job at reflecting my interior state of mind—I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going. I don’t understand myself. I live in an airport.

It is like that movie Terminal with Tom Hanks—I’m stuck here, in my mind, with no ticket and nowhere to go. Airports are unique places. They are places where people converge to diverge, it is a place where people come together to split apart. But what happens when you are continually in that spot? Who belongs to you? And whom do you belong to? My life revolves within change. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know where I’m going.

Maybe I like airports so much because it feels like home, whatever home is. Maybe I like airports so much because it reflect on the outside what I feel on the inside. How many years have I been in this airport? And do I even want to leave? Do I even want to leave? If I left wouldn’t I be denying who I am? Can I even leave? Can I leave a place that isn’t even defined? How do you exit a revolving door if it’s all glass?

I don’t know what else to say. I’ve just been sitting here trying to fit words together, but I have none.

Disillusionment

2007-10-16T17:26:00.000-06:00

Story of my life. I don't think anything was really ever enough for me. I'm not sure if anything ever will be. I'll be blunt and honest: I no longer care about the right answer I really only care about the truth--not that I know it, or even know how to define "truth." But I will tell you this . . . I am so sick of these "things" that we "do". What things? I don't know everything. Life. This world appears so screwed at times. The bottom line is money. And then those who aren't run by money seem to be run by "getting outside the box" and "doing things the right way." When all they have really don't is created a different version of what they got out of. But they play all the same games.

My mom baby sits for one of my dad's coworkers and they have a cute little boy who is like 18 months old? I took a break from this blog and went outside for about 20 minutes and stomped on leaves, threw them in the air, and just played with this kid throwing a ball around--pretty much playing fetch with him. And something came to life in me that has been dead for a long time. There was something really . . . real about it, genuine about him.

All of my disillusionment comes from men and the systems of this world . . . and I know that it is not really who God is or necessarily what God is about, but I still get frustrated at Him and just ask him what the point is of this thing called life because I know that these ruts that I fall into are just ruts, and God is more real than these things we label Him to be and things that we do to "follow God" when it is very possible we are just serving man and his agenda. I just get so frustrated at how quickly I lose sight of my love for Him and I start focusing on these dumb things that I start "doing." It is like I start doing things out of this system of religious activities instead of out of the desire that I have to know Him. That irks me about myself.

Anyways . . . I guess I say that to say that I know that I'm just disillusion with who people sometimes make God out to be, and today I was playing with this child and I . . . I thought and felt--"yes, this is what I need to get back to, this joy that I have lost so easily." Playing with this baby/child was so uplifting and I thought--maybe this world isn't so bad after all. Maybe there is more to life than I see, and maybe it isn't really the things that I seek or think that it must be. Maybe that this life is meant to be about love (well I know it is), but maybe I've been looking out so far to find something more that I have missed the obvious things--relationships with people who love and care for you and helping others grow up or grow old.

My mind just keeps going back to what a old dead guy once said (in Ecclesiastes) "I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold all is vanity and striving after wind." He goes on to talk about how everything in life is pointless. . . he kinda sums it up with "The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man . . ." Or in other words Love God, and Love others. Or be righteous . . . I recently heard it said that righteousness means "right relationships". That made a lot of sense to me, I wouldn't mind having right relationships.
How did man(I) get to the point of striving for so much that ends in so little?

P.S. To 'lenore': lol good point--especially since I don't really tell anyone that I have this blog and nor do I really plan on it and nor do I put a link to it on my myspace or facebook. Maybe I just like the idea that someone might read what I write, and sometimes it is easier to cut out the detail so that I don't have to feel like I need to fill in the blanks. I'm a literature major what can I say . . . I have to write a lot so it is hard to break that mould. I'm glad you enjoyed my picture from St. Marks . . .

Aah--The problems of Pride.

2007-10-15T20:15:00.000-06:00

Well . . . not only the problem of pride--but also being 99.9% of the time blind to what is happening and deaf to what is going on around me. That why I entitled this blog seeing and hearing--I want to see and hear, but I don't. I want to see the glass I'm about to walk into instead of always calling the dream land on the other side a reality . . . Or, should it be the other way? Should I want to see past the glass so that I can see reality instead of focusing on what is right in front of me? I don't know, either way works.

So the story goes something like this. I'm in this group right? I really haven't quite figured out what we actually do but . . . I met with on lady who kinda heads it up just to talk and get to know her. Then a day or two later a different lady from the group asked to have coffee with me, or me and my friend. Well, my friend is out of town and we wouldn't be able to get together for at least 2 weeks so I said "well we can always do it before she gets back if you want." Aah there is the problem--pride. How so? Because I wanted to be the one building friendships and connection--probably because my friend Anna make me feel worthless and un-valuable a lot of the time even though I know she does value me, and my was of trying to feel important is to fight to be closer than she is with people who have a wide range of influence. So I was rushing the meeting out of pride.

As it turns out this second lady that I met with just went off about the group and this and that and I just tried to keep quite. I agreed on a lot of the points she was making but I should have just said "I did not come over here to listen to you talk poorly about everyone else just because people don't seem to be listening to you at the moment" and I should have just walked out and left. But no, instead I try to listen and not contribute and I try to defuse the situation. Well--as it turned out I went back to the first lady's house to just bring up some of concerns that I had--which where in the back of my mind but whatever. Well lady number 2 calls me up today with a list of things that she wanted me to tell lady number 1. I though about it--called her back and told her, in so many words "Hell no, I'm not going to be your messenger boy and I'm not getting in the middle of this bull shit!"

I still went and talked to lady number 1, and found out that she was seeing a lot of the same issues her self and that she was planning on doing what I was suggesting anyways.

I feel so duped. And foolish for getting involved in this drama. I hate drama.

Watch out for what happens over coffee--I'm tellin' ya it ain't all good.

The Gift of . . .

2007-10-13T07:40:00.000-06:00

Sleep. What a gifting. I pretty sure I just laid in bed for the past 15 hours, and was sound asleep for 12 of those 15--There was a 3 hour period that I woke up in the evening. I'll be honest it felt pretty nice--but now all I want to do it go right back to sleep. I'm not tired per-say--just like the idea of sleeping and forgetting.

I wonder how much of what I do is so that I can ignore the things that I have to do, or not have to look at the things that I don't understand, or so that I can dismiss the issues that seem hopeless. I wonder if I sleep so that I don't have to have certain conversations. Do I use sleep to avoid the world . . . to avoid me . . . to avoid God? Do I put up the things that need to get done and go to bed early so that I don't have to think about my friends who are slowly dying? So I don't have to think about where I am? And did I start, and continue, to write this blog so that I would have one more way to distract myself from reality instead facing the Truth?

Do I ignore the dark clouds over head even though I know that out of them will come rain and an abundance of life? Am I that foolish?

Spirit, Soul, Body

2007-10-12T06:00:00.000-06:00

I guess I just wonder how many issues we have due to problems in our spirits.

To clarify myself--we are made up of three parts Spirit, Soul, and Body. The Body is obviously our flesh the thing we can physically touch. The Soul is essentially our mind and more or less our emotions, our will our consciousness--when you are having a conversation with a person you are talking to the soul. We can change what we think and easily access our mind because it is part flesh. But our Spirit is something completely different. The spirit is of the spirit realm--not the flesh. Maybe today people would call it our hearts but it really isn't--it is so much more. I'm not sure but it would seems like our soul is what connects our spirits to our body--and our spirit actually affect our physical health. It affects our way of thinking.

Now our spirits--at least to my understanding--are incorruptable, but they can be wounded and broken and crippled and weak and dying. This can all happen because of the things people do to us, the experiences we have, the choices we make, and the things we open ourselves up to. When there is something wrong with our spirit we start to think about things in all the wrong ways. For example (I'll use myself since I'm kinda working through this as my spirit is being restored) I use to believe that every relationship would end in betrayal because of how deeply I have been betrayed--from that I lost belief in ever having a right relationship (friendship) with anyone. That has caused a lot of confusion in my mind and hurt I guess. But I also think that it is connected to my crappy health.

So my question is, how many of our physical and psychological problems come from problems within our spirits.

Crying Wolf

2007-10-07T18:13:00.000-06:00

Question: Do you ever do things that afterward you just feel stupid and fake? Do you ever open your mouth or raise your hand when you think something applies to you and then half way through you think you may have been wrong?

When that happens to me I feel like I'm one of "those people" who have everything wrong with them and are always needing something. I don't particularly like that feeling.

But at the same time those who are timid never receive.

Today I stepped out boldly for something that I wasn't 100 percent sure if it applied to me. Because I stepped out and stuck my neck out something happened--I really can't explain what or really know what it was, but it was something. It was a change. I know I received what I did because I acted. If only I knew what I received huh? This also happened earlier in the week--I wasn't sure if something applied to me or not but I decided to step out and ask to receive--I figure it can't hurt. The only think it might hurt would be my image which is only a perspective of man which doesn't matter. I stand with my choices of stepping out when I wasn't of where I stood.

I guess I think of it this way: I have a burning desire for propinquity--for a nearness and a closeness, A closeness of relation, or kin, a nearness in nature, or affinity--God. And I don't want to let my fear of being wrong to get in the way of something unimaginable that I might receive from Him. I don't want to let my second guessing to get in the way of a knowledge of a Real and Living God. It is foolish to hold myself back from something I so desperately desire when all I have to do is step.

But the question remains . . . When am I just crying wolf and not seeing the reality I am in essentially hindering myself from the freedom which I am looking by crying out for help?

What is this new dawn?

Some Perspective

2007-10-06T20:58:00.001-06:00

So the truth be told, I hate weddings.

Today I realized why. It is not because I don't want to get married or because I really want to get married, but it is because weddings stress everyone out and make me depressed. Why do they make me depressed? Because when at a wedding I see the Groom with his 8 grooms men, and friends and family, everyone is laughing and having a good time. The Best Man tell about how he has known the Groom since high school and they are just such good friends. All of this causes me to pause and think for a moment about how it might be when I get married. I can think of only 2 possible grooms men, not really a best man, and I certainly don't have anyone who I would like conduct the marriage. Hell, I don't even have a girl in mind that I would like to marry. It is all sad making.

In the midst of all this I look at who I am--not who they are--and I am happy. I know that I am the way I am for a reason, and I know what that reason is. The only problem is that at this very moment I don't see the purpose coming into living. That is also sad making. I know it is waiting and a fullness of time thing--but what do you do when the fullness of time has come but you can't see how it is possible to step into your purpose or even where you should step. What do you do when it is time to go forth and you just stand there wide eyed thinking "but aren't I so far from where you want me?" I love being who I am--but . . . I'm tired of faking fake friendship. I want something real.

Requirments

2007-10-05T10:41:00.000-06:00

To see and hear one must be willing to listen and look--wanting is not enough.

The Way Things Are

2007-10-03T05:40:00.000-06:00

In order to see and hear better you must become blind and deaf.
In order to know you must do away with one's understanding.
In order to speak true words of knowledge one mush be mute--
so that he may be able to see and hear.

Ironic

2007-09-26T12:53:00.000-06:00

For a blog entitled "seeing and hearing" it is ironic that I'm doing quite the opposite. Everything has been a murky fog lately--transition is always trying. This transition especially so. It is a major transition without the transition time (break from life) built into it. Exhausting.

The Beginning of All Things.

2007-09-20T08:49:00.000-06:00

Well, alright. Maybe this isn't the beginning of all things but it is the beginning of this thing. I have no clue if I'll actually write I this but I figured I would just add another waste of meaningful time in my life.

What is new with me? Well if you must know--and I'm sure you are just dying to--I changed my sleep schedule: bed time--ASAP, wake up time--04:00. Silly I know. But this way I'm up when no one else is and I have nothing to do BUT do work. So it works out well. The only problem is that some nights I don't have much of a choice but to get home late (as in 21:30 or 22:00). So that isn't very conducive to waking up at 4--so I'm having some grace with myself. Well that is 'bout all folks.
We will just see where this takes us . . . let's go on an adventure.