Hatred pacified

I tried to wrest the weapons from the hands of my enemies

and found they multiplied.

Suddenly my own arms were full of the guns of hatred and the knives of ignorance that I wanted to destroy.

Cutting, shooting, and betraying the love that I had intended to protect.

I tried to stand up for something.

But I should have been kneeling.

Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.

Your hatred, your anger, and your fear were met only by my own.

From whence comes peace.

I am a reflection.

The enemy is me.  The protester is me.  The protector is me.

How can we speak up when our voices drip with poison?

But how can we stay silent.


Lilies of the Field

I knew a Jewish carpenter who once turned five loaves and two fish into a meal for ten to twenty thousand.

I wish he had taught me how.

Sometimes less is more.

But other times, more matters too.

We are…

Now.  We are now.  Now are we.

The world exists in moments.  Deeper than any canyon or ocean.  Deeper than the sky.  Containing eternity yet not contained in a single second.

There is no past and there is no future.

There is only the now that contains both.

The present.  This. Moment.

And you, my friend, you are alive.

No Title

I know the non-FDA labels of organic and no preservatives don’t really mean anything.  And frankly buying products in the “organic” section of a big box grocery store really just doesn’t matter, buuuuuuuuuttttttttttt these salt and pepper organic pretzels are incredible.

I’m taking a guess when the only answer is Yes.

Its getting well into midterms.  I’m still struggling with this semester.  I thought I would really love all my classes.  But I’m finding I just can’t get interested in them.  I don’t know if it is just because graduation is only a few months away and I am mentally checked out or because the classes themselves are outside my typical interests/passions/strengths?  I really love a lot of my professors, but I just can’t get excited about the classes themselves.  I’m settling for passing this semester and that is not something I’m used to.

I really love a lot of things about this semester.  But school just isn’t one of them.  I’m just trying to get by and it feels weird.  I feel almost guilty that my joys this semester don’t revolve around school.  I’m not feeling the satisfaction of a well-deserved A on a test.  Or that moment when you put the final footnote on a well-written essay.  I’m enjoying the sunshine on an unseasonably warm day.  The goosebumps I get when I hear a beautiful new song.  The laughter of friends gathered together trying new things or reliving old favourite moments.  The peace of quiet breathing.  The impulsiveness of new tattoos and late night coffee.  Cans and cans of Diet Coke. I’m not being responsible the way I’m used to being responsible.

And I hope thats okay.  Cs get degrees.  I’m almost done.  I’m ready for something new.

A blocked path also offers guidance.  Mason Cooley

True love says…

I get goosebumps every time I hear this song.  Only Good by The Giving Tree Band.

Life is so crazy right now.  Nothing makes sense.  Not in a bad way.  In fact, things have been going really well lately.  But in a crazy, I have no idea whats coming in my future, and frankly, I have no idea whats going on right now.  Life is just rolling over me.  Like the ocean.  Its powerful, and that could be frightening, but it could be beautiful too.

(I’ve been obsessed with beauty lately.  I think I’ve said the word beauty too many times in my last few posts.  But I don’t care.  It is beautiful.  Life is beautiful.  If I’m stuck on that theme, so be it.)

I don’t know where today will take me.  I don’t know where tomorrow will take me.  I don’t know if I’ll get into a grad program.  I don’t know if I’ll be looking for a job in May.  I don’t know if I’ll be in Florida or Illinois or California or still in Ames.  I have no idea whats ahead.  And normally that would terrify me.

But not today. Not right now.

Today I remember to do good.  To love.  And to care.  And today, I dwell in happiness.