Monday, December 13, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Twinkle... part 3
Click here for part 1, and here for part 2.
She sat on the sofa, in her jammys. Her thick square plastic framed glasses on the edge of her nose. She was reading a book. One of those fat fantastical novels that she loves. I knew she was concentrating hard because she was nibbling on her lower lip and had on a hint of a smirk. The power had gone out again, so she sat by a tall candle whose flame flickered near her face. The tiny light seemed to lay itself so gently on her skin making her cheeks glow with contentment, and cast the most delicate shadow on her nose and lips. It was as if the candle was painting reflective lines of thought on her face. And as it did so, her simple, calm chi filled the room with a cozy warmth. Wisdom and understanding danced with her youth. She was aware of everything around her, and everything seemed to gravitate towards her, just like that fluttering candle-light.
And as I stood in the shadows of the doorway, hoping that the power would stay out for just another moment, I wondered hard on what I had ever done to deserve this much happiness.
She sat on the sofa, in her jammys. Her thick square plastic framed glasses on the edge of her nose. She was reading a book. One of those fat fantastical novels that she loves. I knew she was concentrating hard because she was nibbling on her lower lip and had on a hint of a smirk. The power had gone out again, so she sat by a tall candle whose flame flickered near her face. The tiny light seemed to lay itself so gently on her skin making her cheeks glow with contentment, and cast the most delicate shadow on her nose and lips. It was as if the candle was painting reflective lines of thought on her face. And as it did so, her simple, calm chi filled the room with a cozy warmth. Wisdom and understanding danced with her youth. She was aware of everything around her, and everything seemed to gravitate towards her, just like that fluttering candle-light.
And as I stood in the shadows of the doorway, hoping that the power would stay out for just another moment, I wondered hard on what I had ever done to deserve this much happiness.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Does it ever feel like...
Does it ever feel like you are sitting in the bleachers, watching your own life play by play? Like you can see the place that this path of yours is leading you to, but you never seem to be getting any closer? Does it ever feel like you wish you were living a legendary, epic existence, but it never feels like that in this moment? Like you wish you had explored so many more places, and seen so many more things, and done so much more mischief. That you feel like you need to burst out of this skin and let out your crazy chi. Like you need to find out what you are actually capable of.
Does it ever feel like you need to be alone? Like you need a breath of silence and calm, so that you can hear yourself again. So that you can become conscious of your presence again. Like you need to take a deep breath and start this over. A clean, fresh start. Does it ever feel like you want to tell those thousand other voices to shut up so that you can listen to your own? Like you need to stop becoming the consequence of someone else's life, and start becoming your own anthology? Like you need to be selfish, just this once? Because just this once, is all you have...
Does it ever feel like you need to be alone? Like you need a breath of silence and calm, so that you can hear yourself again. So that you can become conscious of your presence again. Like you need to take a deep breath and start this over. A clean, fresh start. Does it ever feel like you want to tell those thousand other voices to shut up so that you can listen to your own? Like you need to stop becoming the consequence of someone else's life, and start becoming your own anthology? Like you need to be selfish, just this once? Because just this once, is all you have...
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Write write write!!!!!
The summer is over alas and we must all return to the fairytale time that is fall. Too presumptuous to call this cold weather winter, we brave on with our hearts shivering into the day, listening to moody songs and thinking about better days.
Yesterday was a significant deja-vu scene for me, sitting at the end of the bench at one of my intramural basketball games. I've been here before, at the end of this same bench, watching this same team, trying to find it in my heart to support them. I'm not used to being at the end of the bench. I was always the one to be picked first. I always thought of it as a given. I was the leader, the captain, the one that people wanted to watch play.
Now there's someone else. There has always been someone else for the last 2 years. Someone else that was picked over me. Someone else to take my place. There's this emotion. One of the most complex emotions I have ever had. It starts with the sharp ping of depression, knowing that you are dispensable. Knowing that if you were gone tomorrow, this scene would be the same. Knowing that you didn't matter. And then it's followed by the even sharper jab of jealousy. Anger, rage at that new kid in town. I hate the way he plays. The way he takes that unnecessary extra step. The way he makes that loose pass, it makes me furious. The way that in spite of his flaws, people still prefer him.
I've never said the right things. Never done things the right way. And I know that working the system has always been my greatest shortcoming. I could never please people like this new kid can. But it's moments like these that begs me to question, what is it that I'm trying to achieve? Why is it that every choice that I make sends me into a spiral of disgust. Why is it that the things that I say, never reflect the person that I am. Why is it so hard for people to see the real me through this wall of reality. And then I return, in reflection, to that same question that rings again and again at ROTD. When did all of this become about me?
There are many ways to get to your goals. Most of the time it is through the strong support of the people around you, and through the high of recognition and acknowledgment. Being in the limelight and proving everyday that you belong there. Seems to make sense....
The toughest path, however, is when you can achieve a height of satisfaction through the accomplishments of others. Even though they might not even know that you are there, standing right behind them, pushing them to be better, stronger, faster. Even if it isn't you that's out there dropping 20 points a night, that new kid is dropping 25 because you whispered to him to not make that loose pass, or to take that extra step. Knowing that you don't need appreciation from anyone if you know that you've done your job. Knowing that you don't need to be dispensable if you decide to make yourself useful. It's a rocky path that requires you to step out of yourself, and to open your eyes to the depth of your world.
In the years and years that I've played team sports, the latter has never occurred to me. And as I think about it, I can slowly feel the jealousy drain from me. Instead, I now see opportunity.
That's a good thing.
p.s. Sorry, its been a while.
Yesterday was a significant deja-vu scene for me, sitting at the end of the bench at one of my intramural basketball games. I've been here before, at the end of this same bench, watching this same team, trying to find it in my heart to support them. I'm not used to being at the end of the bench. I was always the one to be picked first. I always thought of it as a given. I was the leader, the captain, the one that people wanted to watch play.
Now there's someone else. There has always been someone else for the last 2 years. Someone else that was picked over me. Someone else to take my place. There's this emotion. One of the most complex emotions I have ever had. It starts with the sharp ping of depression, knowing that you are dispensable. Knowing that if you were gone tomorrow, this scene would be the same. Knowing that you didn't matter. And then it's followed by the even sharper jab of jealousy. Anger, rage at that new kid in town. I hate the way he plays. The way he takes that unnecessary extra step. The way he makes that loose pass, it makes me furious. The way that in spite of his flaws, people still prefer him.
I've never said the right things. Never done things the right way. And I know that working the system has always been my greatest shortcoming. I could never please people like this new kid can. But it's moments like these that begs me to question, what is it that I'm trying to achieve? Why is it that every choice that I make sends me into a spiral of disgust. Why is it that the things that I say, never reflect the person that I am. Why is it so hard for people to see the real me through this wall of reality. And then I return, in reflection, to that same question that rings again and again at ROTD. When did all of this become about me?
There are many ways to get to your goals. Most of the time it is through the strong support of the people around you, and through the high of recognition and acknowledgment. Being in the limelight and proving everyday that you belong there. Seems to make sense....
The toughest path, however, is when you can achieve a height of satisfaction through the accomplishments of others. Even though they might not even know that you are there, standing right behind them, pushing them to be better, stronger, faster. Even if it isn't you that's out there dropping 20 points a night, that new kid is dropping 25 because you whispered to him to not make that loose pass, or to take that extra step. Knowing that you don't need appreciation from anyone if you know that you've done your job. Knowing that you don't need to be dispensable if you decide to make yourself useful. It's a rocky path that requires you to step out of yourself, and to open your eyes to the depth of your world.
In the years and years that I've played team sports, the latter has never occurred to me. And as I think about it, I can slowly feel the jealousy drain from me. Instead, I now see opportunity.
That's a good thing.
p.s. Sorry, its been a while.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
In the mood....
It seems that I am in the mood...
Sometimes I really really hate movies. Mostly because they all end with everything 'working out'. It never seems like that in real life. My Summer of Love is proof. It's not that I am unhappy. I guess I'm just looking for familiarity. Movies are unfamiliar to reality. Good movies push those empathetic buttons. People should make more good movies.
A good movie is like a good friend. An even better friend is a good song. I remember as a seven year old, spending hours sitting in front of my dad's Technics amplifier, with his expensive Sony headphones plugged in, listening to Dr. Hook. It was my junior sanctum. Just sitting and listening to that CD over and over and over again. You know how if you listen to a CD enough times, you know what song comes after the one that's just finished. I sat with the little booklet that comes in the case, reading the lyrics and singing along in my head. It's amazing how lyrics of a song can stick in your head clearer than your most important memories. I guess good songs make memories too, just like good friends.
I love to complain about this era of music, and the dying radio that succumbs to big names, big money and big masses. I wonder if seven year old kids still get the chance to find their sanctum in this iPod age. Maybe it's a different kind of sanctum, however progressively unromantic it tends to become. I think that's why we love to hold on to the past. The past is always more romantic compared to this present. Like a transformation of soft, comforting silk into a tough plastic.
A little bit of color never hurt. An unreasonable whim, or a surprisingly soft spot for a love song. A secret love to write poems under candle light, or a song that you cant resist closing your eyes, getting on a table, and making orgasmic faces and vulgar gestures to.
So today's exercise girls and boys. Drown in cliche. Become that day dreaming fool that people make movies on. Walk around in naivety, and find romance.
Sometimes I really really hate movies. Mostly because they all end with everything 'working out'. It never seems like that in real life. My Summer of Love is proof. It's not that I am unhappy. I guess I'm just looking for familiarity. Movies are unfamiliar to reality. Good movies push those empathetic buttons. People should make more good movies.
A good movie is like a good friend. An even better friend is a good song. I remember as a seven year old, spending hours sitting in front of my dad's Technics amplifier, with his expensive Sony headphones plugged in, listening to Dr. Hook. It was my junior sanctum. Just sitting and listening to that CD over and over and over again. You know how if you listen to a CD enough times, you know what song comes after the one that's just finished. I sat with the little booklet that comes in the case, reading the lyrics and singing along in my head. It's amazing how lyrics of a song can stick in your head clearer than your most important memories. I guess good songs make memories too, just like good friends.
I love to complain about this era of music, and the dying radio that succumbs to big names, big money and big masses. I wonder if seven year old kids still get the chance to find their sanctum in this iPod age. Maybe it's a different kind of sanctum, however progressively unromantic it tends to become. I think that's why we love to hold on to the past. The past is always more romantic compared to this present. Like a transformation of soft, comforting silk into a tough plastic.
A little bit of color never hurt. An unreasonable whim, or a surprisingly soft spot for a love song. A secret love to write poems under candle light, or a song that you cant resist closing your eyes, getting on a table, and making orgasmic faces and vulgar gestures to.
So today's exercise girls and boys. Drown in cliche. Become that day dreaming fool that people make movies on. Walk around in naivety, and find romance.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
