The Beauty We Behold

Why is it that in the course of our lives we find little joy in our everyday surroundings? Whatever our lot, whether it be nurse, construction worker, or even the boss of a company; we grow tired and long to take a break from what we term "mundane." To put on a uniform of whatever sort or fall into a class of whatever flavor is a chore that's loathed and detested. We long to be freed from the slavery of work, or chores, or just beholding the same thing. For some reason, what we behold on a daily basis is a boring task that must be attended to with a quick and careless effort. If we had it our way, we'd win the lottery and drink champagne for the rest of our lives. But I find this to be folly at it's heart. To take this dream of living the good life from a realistic point of view, it would stand to reason that drinking champagne everyday and living the good life forevermore would become a mundane chore as well, not changing a thing with our outlook on life. I propose that it's not the scenery that's wrong, but our outlook on what we're beholding. We all are bombarded with what a good life is supposed to be, and it never aligns with how we're currently living. So we try to tweak ourselves to allineate our views with what we're told should be so. But we never quite hit the mark and thus find ourselves reeling from that old familiar feeling of failure. Our notions rule us. We play out scenarios in our heads where we're successful and famous and beautiful. Then we look in the mirror and check our wallets and sit alone in our apartments crying or drinking ourselves to stupidity. To mask our shortcomings, we sign up for another credit card and make more cyber friends on Facebook. But it never quite fills the gaping hole that eats up everything in our lives. And so we pretend that we need a vacation. We work so very hard and now it's time to take a break and live the good life. But even on vacations we can't find contentment. The hotel lost our reservations. We forgot to pack our toothbrush. And by the time we return to our mundane joke of a life, we're more worn out than when we left. And thus this vicious cycle continues with us never living anything close to a good life because we don't believe that we already have one. The people that we work with and all their foibles and flops go by unnoticed because we're too busy looking in the mirror to pull that last nose hair out. The beautiful architecture passes by us while we check our shoes for polish. And every other gift that the good Lord bestows upon us day by day goes by unwrapped while we're staring at a magazine of some model we don't know who gets paid to look like he's enjoying complete nirvana in his new pair of jeans. If we were to open our eyes and look up from our problems, we would see what beauty everyday is given for our enjoyment. All we've to do is unwrap the gift and give thanks to the Giver.

Aspiration & Deception

I've recently left the job I wanted to do my entire life. I've done a lot of thinking about why I got into it and why it was so important to me... I'm glad I'm gone. You see, it didn't start off in pursuit of vanity, but in the end that was all I could derive from it. And if thats all a person can derive from something, it's a dead thing that needs to be discarded. Solomon wrote that a man has many plans, but the Lord directs his steps. And truly, in my desperate attempt to console myself with vainglory I made plans that were fool hearty. I cast away truth and sound advice in search of something that doesn't exist. Now I'm older and still a fool. But a humbled fool am I. My lot at this point of my life is to put my hand back to the plow and slowly toil for something that will bring me nothing, but others so much. It's not a search for who I am anymore, but simply a sacrifice for those searching for themselves in hope of bringing them to the realization that there is nothing worthy within. We all must look without to bring the peace and fulfillment that we've been deceived into believing was within. There is nothing here for us. All that we toil for is utterly useless and vain glorying. If you believe this saying, then die to yourself and let the seed fall from your useless stalk to the dirt where it may be watered and grow to be a hearty plant. Not your plant, but another's.

Never forget who you are!

When I was a kid, I was (and still am in some respects) a huge fan of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I remember watching the second movie, The Secret of the Ooze for the first time. At one point in the movie while the turtles are visiting April O' Neil, Raphael starts to mimic the evil Shredder and leans out the window in jest. Immediately Master Splinter chastens him and yells, "Never forget who you are!"

I find that at times in my life when I'm just relaxing, or have nothing in particular to do that my mind wanders and I find myself getting lost in thoughts that aren't my own, or at least shouldn't be. As these thoughts progress I lean towards thinking ill of somebody else, stressing out about things that I cannot control, or other unsavory matters. When I come to, I'm disgusted with myself and wonder why it was that I gravitated towards such slime. Perhaps it's because of the fact that I'm very impressionable or that I tend to overanalyze things. But I do know this to be a fact: If I don't keep my own mind, somebody or something else will. We all have personal battles, and we all hope to win them. But the battle must be fought and not ignored, because the weakest moment of any battle is when one isn't paying attention to it.

Beyond Our Limits

I was having a conversation with a friend of mine the other day about how each person on the face of this earth is in some sort of prison. Most don't even have a clue that they're in a prison, or where the boundaries of it lie. As we expounded in conversation on this simple idea, it became apparent to me that most people spend their lives trying to make their prison walls more enclosed until they haven't the room to even lie down and sleep. This vast majority try very hard to nail down what they term security, but all the while worrying about the wolf that will eventually devour them, their families, and their possessions. And as that seed of worry develops in their souls, they begin to build walls within the walls of their prison, making it harder and harder to see the light of day, or break free from their own set boundaries. Prejudices fester in them as they see those who live lives of risk and danger, or who are just different from them. In the state they put themselves in, they find it impossible to turn their necks and see others for who they truly are. Instead, they settle for somebody else's opinion of what such and such is, never actually understanding the truth of it all. And as this develops in many a soul, the prejudices of the caged and shackled becomes extrapolated beyond measure making it damned near impossible to even trust a hope that redemption exists for them.

There are others, however, that do not fear pain or death. And although the prison walls still exist in their lives, they are so far apart that one must squint just to focus upon them. They are quite aware of where those walls are, and they trust in them for support and safety. But not so much as to bind them. These people's prisons are filled with all sort of treasure and magic. There are many dangerous pitfalls, and other things that would harm them. But as stated before, they are very aware of them. This group of people enjoy their lives, and would that others as well. Trying with all their might to unbind that which has been bound. And although it may seem superfluous at times, they possess one of the most admirable traits a human can: Hope. They understand that at one point, all have been bound in some way or another, and to despise those who are would be to bind themselves all the more. And as hope buds in their hearts, so does love take hold and develop making them understand the "Why" of it all.

The last thing I'd like to mention about the "Free Prisoners" is that they know exactly where the door of their prison is, and they hold the keys. They understand however that at present they must reside in a prison to understand and encourage them that are hobbled, and to love them that have never experienced such joy, making it possible for more love to abide in more hearts.

Spontaneous Singing

The way the world is going these days, it can be hard to for us to glean joy from life. The paradox of having everything we ever wanted is that we become lackadaisical and without passion in pursuing the tastes and fragrances that could be experienced. I believe that we develop a false sense of pride that produces an apprehension to putting ourselves in situations that are uncomfortable. This, in turn, limits our development as human beings to the point that we forget that life isn't made up of the things we have, but the things we do and the impact we make on the people around us (which also has a reciprocal effect on our own lives).

Throughout most of human history, people used to unwind from a hard day of staying alive and providing for their families by getting together and singing. Something about spontaneous singing helped these people to relax and forget their worries. I would imagine that these people had just as many fears and reservations (if not more) as we do today, but I also believe that since they already were used to being in uncomfortable positions on a day by day basis, it just wasn't as big a deal to them as we make it out today to be. I very rarely find anyone willing to just sing, and I think it's a tragedy to say the least. Even in my own self, I find I'm almost unwilling to sing. I guess I just want to retain what I believe to be civility. But I know in my heart that it's a sham.

Enter Karaoke. About 6 years ago, I was over at my friend's house and they all started to karaoke. I thought it was amazing, but was just as scared to try all the same. As the night progressed and I got a couple of beers in me, I gave it a shot. The experience was almost religious. I got into the song for 20 seconds and didn't have the gumption to sing the rest. For some reason, I just couldn't do it. It was too much of an experience for me and I just couldn't take it anymore. Through the years, I've grown accustomed to karaoke, and I've even won a family championship. I know that I don't have the voice of an angel, but I also know that singing (no matter what your voice sounds like) does something amazing to one's soul. I just hope that others will catch onto the serenity that lies within singing. There's a certain magic to it.

Sherlock Holmes

If you've ever read any of the Sherlock Holmes novels, I'm sure you recall Watson always complaining about Holmes needing to have something to preoccupy his mind. Watson relates that if Holmes isn't pursuing some new lead on a fantastical case, his mind becomes so bored that the only cure is the needle (some drug). No matter what he could do to further himself, he finds mundane tasks a bore and decides instead to drown his sorrows in the wonders of drugs.

Now I'd like to, first of all, state that my mental capacities are no match for Sherlock Holmes. However, I would like to say that I find myself in Holmes' situation on certain occasions. I have a lot of simple, sometimes boring things to do as far as practicing my trombone and fixing the house (not to mention studying for my upcoming ASE tests). So I get bored simply hashing away at the same ol' things day after day, and I want some form of new exciting adventure. Obviously I can't and don't want to do drugs, but there are other things and situations I've been in that are just plain unsavory. I find that people are the most interesting things on this earth, and in my quest for new, it sometimes puts me in quite the pickle. As far as my reading goes in the series of Sherlock Holmes novels, he never quite gets over his vice. I hope to. I suppose I just find it a hard pill to swallow what Solomon said, "There's nothing new under the sun."

As I Sit & Smoke my Pipe...

Every day humanity awakens to another decision. A decision to give or take. Most have made it up in their minds that they enjoy accumulating, and so even though the opportunity presents itself on a repeated basis, they never even give it a chance. The cares of present circumstances is so enticing that they miss the very thing that life is made of: Death. Jesus said Himself that unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies it remains alone, but if it dies, it yields much fruit. What I believe He meant from this parable is that the only life worth living is one of sacrifice to the point of death for others.

It's quite a paradox to find that the people that have the most find themselves wanting more than those who have nothing. My Grandpa told me a story of a very rich man who was stricken with disease to the point of not being able to eat anymore. As his servant pushed his wheelchair down the sidewalk, he noticed a homeless man enjoying a hamburger in the gutter. His response to the sight was that he would give everything he owned for one bite of that homeless man's meal.

As I sit here and smoke my pipe pondering this bit of wisdom left to me by my forebear, I know in my heart that I've taken more than I deserve, and so has the rest of humanity. The reason I say this is because one can never give too much, but even one bite of pleasure is more than any of us deserve. Obviously this is a very disagreeable statement, but one that, if embraced, can give life to so much good.