Monday, December 26, 2011

The Week Before the New

I don't understand a few things. I mean, I don't understand many things. I don't quite understand what I'm doing in life anymore. I guess it's a little scary. I think it's a little scary. I mean... it is scary. But everytime I feel this way, I am quick to invalidate that emotion by reminding myself of what has been and what I can trust. History and God.

There's been a pattern in my life of peaks and valleys. Things that have happened that seem to be a mix of fortunate and unfortunate circumstances. I'm realizing many things about this year and I'm in the moments of recalling all of the past year. I want to prepare who I am now and re-introduce myself for who I was. Not to become who I was, but be aquainted with the man I no longer want to be.

It's almost 2012. Another year is passing and yet, it feels like nothing. I've been so excited to be out of this span of time, this past year that changed me. I was so excited to exist out of this elapsed space. Earlier this year I felt as though if this year were to end, I would be done and over with everything. I guess that's just not quite true. The metaphysical heart isn't a piece of meat that just has an expiration date. I'm beggining to have an idea that this thing I call a "heart," is my collective understanding for the mournings of my soul. And the mournings of my soul don't ever feel quenched. The mournings of my soul never have an expiration date.

The time has passed though. The moments have awakened and slept. It's almost a new year, I feel a bit unsettled with what will come. I guess it's reasonable to be a little anxious about the future. Not knowing if I will do the right things, at the right time. Just being able to feel God's tug on my heart. I don't know if I'll respond to it, nor if I'll be able to comprehend or recognize it. I don't know if my understanding of my heart will be aligned to God's knowledge of it. I don't know where I'll be in the coming months; I don't know if I'll still be here, thinking the same things or even experiencing life in similar, familiar ways.

Maybe I'm over-thinking things. Maybe the future will be just fine. Maybe I will just be the man I need to be at the right moments.

Maybe I'm just feeling too much for this apparent heart. I guess it's a better time than any to come back to myself, to know that history shows me that things do change. That I won't be the same person I was. That things that happen within the time I live is life changing. That there will be many opportunities to make decisions, wrong ones and right ones. That I can hope that God guides me, and shows me His will in the uncertainty. I'll have peace tonight.

Friday, December 23, 2011

A Season, All Over Again

This is the Christmas weekend. It's meaning has changed for myself and many other people over time. Many blame the consumeristic aspect of this culture. I beg to reason the selfishness that we all have. In-between all the noise of the season, I feel blessed. There's nothing really about the decorations, the flavors of food (albeit, they are quite delicious), or the lights that enthrall me. It's the implications of the season. The wanting to be with family, loved ones. I'm excited. I get to spend time with my family... my nieces and nephew. My father and mother-- my siblings and in-laws.

I'm guilty, at least I feel that way. My family is a big part of who I am. Although, I never feel as though faults of my father and mother overshadow the many decisions I make in my life. As I've made many mistakes before. I'm away from my family. I've also been quite busy with my own life. Living apart from them has made it more difficult to be mindful of them. I feel as though I've neglected them. I guess, I'm just much more aware now of that there's going to have to be better intentionality on my part in order to have a relationship with them.

I remember my relationships with them. I remember the times when my brother and I would have conversations that seemed that would never end. I remember the times he and I would play games, where it be chess, or some game on some gaming console. I remember the times with both of my sisters, feeling like a little kid, the little brother that they always protedted. I remember the arguments that each of us had and how that made somewhat grow closer to each other. I remembered being punished and loved alongside them by our parents. I remember my parents, as I was growing up. My father who was always playing around. My mother who was always up to something... something good. I've found many different parts of me emulating and imitating the things we've done and somewhat the people we've been.

So, I'm looking forward to this weekend. I'm looking forward to being with them. Speaking with them, finding out about how things have changed.

I'm writing this in such a flurry. As always... just hit "publish."

Sunday, December 18, 2011

This is the End.

I've been watching a lot of movies lately and it's often quite occured to me that there's some sort of resolve that happens at the end of a movie. A closure that the audience gets, when they've understood and seen all the reprocussions of the characters, all the complexity is reduced to a situation; the culmination of everything they are and all the choices they've made.

I think I've expected a good end of things. A possible beginning to a new understanding of life. I can put it in this way... When I finish a good bowl of pho that just hits the right spot. The end is a bitter sweet, delicious strand of rice noodles. Or the last drop of a savory broth. I expect the end to be this conclusion to such an amazing situation that served the bowl of noodles and I so well.

I've learned just recently that such eventualities, such inevitabilities are sometimes far and few. My relationship with these day to day objects are so different from people. I've been in a few relationships that ended. There's always a part of silence, and a time to contemplate the change. The end that i feel has been happening for a year. It's not the constant searing pain I once was so familiar with. I've grown accustomed to it and the depression that comes with such a feeling. Like a needle grazing skin. The scathing feeling. It scratches skin, making each line so tender, and there are moments of lime and water, of air and salt.

The end of what I wore so heavily is torn. This "end" is a coat that doesn't keep me from the cold. It's the shirt that I could never wash. The pants I could never fill and the shoes that never protected my feet. There's not much I could bare anymore.

I'm tired. These aren't the clothes I want to wear. This isn't the end that my God wants for me, nor my friends nor my family. Today is an anniversary of an end. I remember every part. The following is the eventuality: I remove the coat off my back, I'm in the comfort of the cold. This shirt wreaks with the smell of the death of my heart, I rip it off the flesh it's become accustomed to. The pants are chaffing of excess material, I let them go, they fall right off. I step away and these shoes are painful. They crack open. My toes are a soft set of little piglets excited to see the light. I run in my nakedness, all that once was has ended.