Sunday, October 31, 2010

The Nightmare of Ourselves

Its Halloween, and do you know what I just did? I watched the shining for the first time in my life. Bad idea. Although now I understand why people like to walk around wagging their pointer finger saying "redrum" in a creepy voice, regardless, I was scared shitless. Let me rephrase... I AM scared shitless. And now I can't sleep.

Why is it that people love Halloween so much? I have always wondered why it was that this holiday holds a certain intrigue for most people, one that I cannot say I have ever shared. Sure its fun to pretend, to dress up as something you're not that you have always wished to be, and pretend that you don't really want to be an Avatar, or a stripper cop, but that its Halloween and so its okay that you are.

But the real reason in my mind is the concept of fear. It's a thrill for people to scare themselves so badly that they can't leave the covers, but why?

Its because fear is physical. Its not a feeling you just have in your gut, or an emotion that makes you cry. You feel it in your very soul, it rips at your insides and pounds at your heart. People seek fear because, maybe, they just want to feel alive. If just for that one moment, you can actually feel your heart beating, its almost like you know that you're still there, that you still matter. That you can still feel something and your heart is racing and your hands are sweaty and all of a sudden you're aware of your breathing.

There are few emotions that can give you this feeling. Maybe its because we're always searching for answers about life, that we forget sometimes to live in the moment, and it is only then that we truly live. We look at our schedules and follow our clocks so often, that when something creeps up from behind to scare us, it jolts us awake, reminding us that we're not robots.

I think maybe thats why I seek fear. Why I have been waiting for something to show me that I'm not a walking statue. Sometimes I think I lose myself along the way, I forget the importance of love and compassion, and just a sense of where I belong. Sometimes I go so long without that physical feeling of emotion, the one that tears at your heart with a searing pain that cannot be described, that I wonder for a moment if I will ever be able to feel it again. That maybe, these thoughts in my head are merely automatic, devoid of emotion, and bordering on the mechanical. But then something comes along to jolt me awake, hit my heart, and make me feel it.

Its the physical emotion that keeps people guessing, keeps people searching. And when you have the fortunate moment where you discover it, hold onto it a little while, listen to your heartbeat, and remember for a second who you are and try to live up to that. Maybe Halloween isn't such a bad holiday. We all need a little scare now and then.

Anyways, Happy Halloween.

Friday, October 15, 2010

And the world ends.

Today, we ran out of decaf coffee.

Normally decaffienated is not the most popular kind of coffee, and why it even exists stumps me to this day. the point of coffee is to keep you awake, so why would you take out the very ingredient that makes that possible?

But rules about coffee aside, having run out the same day a guest at my work just happened to be wantin' some decaf, I was in for major attitude control.

Its the same thing every day over and over. I'm sorry I can't do anything about the fact that there is no restroom closer to your auditorium. I know the prices are high, but I can't change them. I understand you just bought that starbucks mocha latte frapp something or other, but we have a strict no outside food and drink policy.

Today, I was the girl who ran out of decaf coffee.

Every time one of these issues arises, I get someone else griping about the unfairness of it all and wondering why the world does not revolve around them. And today, when I said, I am so sorry we don't have anymore decaf I got the same look. A restrained anger and want to lash out, because someone was going to pay. And the thing that we always seem to forget, is that those people that usually do are the ones around us, who whether we believe it or not, have nothing to do with why we didn't get our way.

We have become so spoiled and consumed with ourselves that we feel a constant need to complain about everything that isn't a part of our "plan". We forget so often that sometimes, things...just...happen. And most of the time we have no control over those things. And neither does anyone else.

Whenever I encounter someone who seems to believe that if they yell and complain enough it will somehow make them justified, I have to stop myself from instinctively wishing bad karma on them. And every time I don't get what I want, I have to take a minute to breathe and refrain myself from complaining to the person behind the counter, who is only attempting to do their job.

My manager once said, that everyone should work in a customer service job, because the world would be such a nicer place. This is true, but sad. Why do people have to experience unkindness, before they can learn to be kind? It is a paradox that makes no sense yet is an aspect of the human nature that we can never escape from. Its a lesson we all need to learn, some more than others, but a universal lesson all the same. How we choose to live, with kindness or without is entirely up to us.

The world would be a nicer place if we could all just get along. But if that were the case, what would be the point of being able to smile at someone and say, "Have a good day", and know that even though they are walking away without any decaf coffee, they will take your words to heart, and maybe just maybe... it will make them smile.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Florence, Italy
Throw me into the chaos of something new...

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Picking up the pieces

Everyday we pick up the pieces of our mistakes.

Today, I was picking up broken glass. Literally.

Because I got into another car accident. Luckily both parties are not harmed and there is not major damage to my already scratched up car, and surprisingly I was not at fault this time. I don't want to get into details, but it was a bad day.

Another phone call home, the same words again, the same tears and the same answers. It seems like every mistake that puts me back a step is the same one I am always making over and over, and I can't shake it. Its like my gaurdian angel doesn't even want to sit in a car with me, so he's not even there when I'm driving. And with every mistake, my life falls apart again.

So much so, that I've become accustomed to picking up those pieces, whether their metaphorical, or literal pieces of glass.

But today I learned something. It was the in the concern of my friends, who worried about me, hugged me, made me smile, or listened to me talk. It was in the concern of my parents, and the way they jumped up ready to fix this new problem without a second thought, or a word of anger or frustration. It was in the "Don't worry too much about it" and the "Are you okay?" s from everyone I love. It was in the cop who watched me cry and said, "tell your parents that they call it an accident for a reason..."

In all of this I saw that I didn't have to pick up the broken glass by myself. That there will always be people around who, when life shatters, stop what their doing to help you reassemble yourself. Why we do this we will never know. Only God knows why it is that our capacity to love is much greater than we could ever imagine. We as human beings are flawed, imperfect, and blemished... But we as humans beings can love with compassion, strength, beauty, and perfection. It is this agape that makes us turn around when we hear glass shatter. It makes us forget what we were thinking about if only for a moment, to pick up a piece and hand it back to someone who dropped it.

I am forever grateful to everyone who picks up my pieces, and they don't have to be told that I fall apart often. I think that's why they're always looking out for the next sign of an accident, whether its in a car, or somewhere else, keeping an eye on me in case they have to catch me. I hope they know the love they have shown me does not go unnoticed, but it is instead locked away deep in my heart, waiting to help if anyone else needs help picking up their broken glass.