Patience

Tags

god, labor, patience, time, waiting, work, Writing

Today is one of those November breaths that seems to recede into the chest of autumn and then wait. The air warms for a little while and then as that air is breathed, the cold returns. Days like this make me thoughtful and I can’t help but sit down in my chair and clear my head. I breath as the air outside does, slowly, and let my brain wander. I listen.

Sometimes I hear things, sometimes I don’t. But that’s not what is important. Just taking time out to listen and pray is what the soul needs. I need to be able to sort through my thoughts and order my life differently.

Right now, things are crazy, but in a truly meaningful and wonderful way. I am stressed, sometimes frustrated, but I am hopeful in ways that I cannot fully explain. I have a vision and I am working toward that vision.

The thing that I have been realizing more and more, is that I simply need to be patient. I just have to wait and work, and keep my goal in sight. It’s terrifying at first, but one day at a time, one stroke of the chisel at that dream, and suddenly, things aren’t quite as scary.

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Direction

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career, catholic, hope, journey, joy, life, love, peace, religion

My path carries me on through turbulent seas. Peach sunlight washes over me and I smile as I watch the last of the leaves fade off and decay as the face of winter begins to reveal himself. But this is expected and maybe that is why I smile. I know what is going to happen and how they are going to pass and I find comfort.

But like a blind man trying to find himself in a forest cast into the darkness of night, I wander my way through my life, trying so very desperately to find direction. I know that there is an end, and my hands stretch forth in a way that only increases my desire for it!

And maybe this is why I stretch for it. For the hope that I will one day be fulfilled beyond a comprehension that I possess, to find a love that will satisfy my desire, and that I will in that satisfaction share to the rest of the world. For is that not the goal of love; that once we have it, we can’t help but blossom like a rose and share the beauty that we possess?

My fingers move like the pianist playing a song that has long been familiar to him as I walk through my routine, all in the hopes that I will find this direction toward this love. I have hope. And that is enough.

 

Speaking, Even In Letters, Is Terrifying

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afraid, blog, don't be, encouragement, soul, spirituality, words, Writing

The fear that so many people struggle with, I think, is of being heard. No one wants to expose their hearts to the world to be judged and be open to the possibility of being ridiculed.

When the hard eyes of humanity is focused on one individual, the soul trembles in trepidation. The words are difficult to form, but they are released from the cage of the throat and out the gates of the lips none-the-less. The voice, if not carried correctly, will be ignored and shrugged. If carried on like a breath of wind, it will be renowned and glorified. More often than not, however, the voice is ignored and the soul is left alone to its shame.

Then is born the fear to speak at all. Even if the voice is only heard by individuals who take time to look at the words that are scribbled down on a page.

Don’t be afraid. Those who don’t care don’t matter, and those who care, matter. Words can not bite their owner, only those who carry malice in their hearts.

It Has Now Been A Full Year

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2013, acquaintances, blogs, friends, musing, new year, people, update

I just received a little notification from WordPress telling me that I have had this blog for exactly a year. An exciting prospect, but it is also a little surprising considering that it has felt much longer. Going back and looking at some of my posts from the previous year, I have come to realize that I have changed a lot. When this blog started I was still writing the first draft of my book, finishing High School, quitting a job that I hated and getting hired at one that I absolutely love, graduating High School, making new friends, starting my second draft, starting college, and now that I am coming round for a new year, I am going into my second semester of College and all in the span of one year. It’s incredible how much has happened within that year, and I can’t wait for the next one.

Now, I am not wanting this to become one of those cliched posts where I try to say something insightful or meaningful -be that my intent or not- but I still can’t help but feel dumbfounded. I have been slowly making friends (or acquaintances if you wish to lower yourself to technicalities) here on WordPress through my blog and through the blogs of others and the whole process has been very gratifying. Seeing other people with the same kind of mentality that I myself hold is very exciting and encouraging. I love writing, as many of you know, and my dream of becoming an author has not died yet. So, to meet other writers and dreamers, albeit in a digital way, has been so very incredible in fueling my dream. I just want to thank all of you for the wonderful year that you have brought me.

To another one then!

Word Quantity or Word Quality?

Tags

culture, dead dreamer, funny phrases, ink, literature, meaningful words, paper, patience, pen, pencil, quality, time, time and patience, word counts, words, Writing

It’s something that I’ve been noticing among a lot of writers. Not so much in books as on blogging websites and forums when they discuss their “writing”. (Which we never see). Many of them seem more concerned about getting a ton of words on the page than they do about making the words count toward a wonderfully told story.

“Just get the first draft down!” They seem to say. Their pen quivers in their hands as they scribble down the next sentence which contains the same words and funny phrases that they used a couple pages ago. “It’ll be a kick!” They aspire, but rarely do they seem to accomplish.

Such is the path of a dead dreamer.

So many writers dream. I respect their dreams, their wishes, but it’s a lack of drive and passion that keeps them from reaching their goals. Sacrifice is an element that I’ve been discovering and some of that sacrifice means time and patience. Taking lots of time to write down the perfect phrase, and having the patience to find the perfect word. The right sentence can mean the difference between making a reader cry out in anguish for a character, or them setting the book down because they found it too poorly drawn.

I do not mean to say that I am a perfect writer, but I have been trying to eradicate those untimely words and phrases from my writing. To keep myself from putting something on the paper that will be “good enough” until I revise it months later. It’s hard, it requires thought and more time that I am really comfortable with, but I have been starting to be happier with my writing because of it. I do not restrict myself to word counts. If I get 2000 words down in a day, and that was all I was trying to do, then fine, that goal was accomplished. But if I get 1000 passionate and meaningful words down, then that is far, far better than any word count will ever be.

Our culture revolves around pushing things out so quickly that we have lost the reality of quality. Do not become the next cliche, make every word count so that when you have a finished product, it won’t be “good enough” but will instead be something to remember. Quantity is not quality, and quantity will not by cherished like like quality will. Glass is pretty, but it is the diamond that stands the test of time.

If You Had Some Advice For A New Writer, What Would It Be?

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advice, advise, dedication, literature, message, messages, rainy day, typewriter, words, Writing

If I were the one giving advice, I would be telling new writers to keep going, no matter what. However, I would pause and think that that sort of thinking would then seem petty when shined in the real light of life. Because no one ever really stops doing anything, unless they are dead. So, I would tell them to keep reaching higher; that is what will make the difference.

I would tell them to take their pen, typewriter, computer, or if they’re into chiseling their messages into rocks, to write, and keep writing until they are comfortable with how their words sound or until they are sure that they have properly trained them.

Because words are not something to simply be captured and locked away for a rainy day. They are living and breathing creatures that need to be nurtured into submission. They never really do exactly what you want, but they do enough for you that they resemble something of what you are after. I would tell the writer to not think of their pen as a whipping stick, nor even a leash, but more of a stroking hand. Give the words their time, and they respond more quickly to whatever it is you want. They obey, to an extent, and try to please the writer’s will as quickly as possible.

All it takes is that time, that love, and dedication. Not every word that a writer will put down will be beautiful. But there must be a starting place. One moment where the writer is able to look back on, and see how far that they have come. And if they stick with it, keep training their words into messages, then they will see those results.

Words are not mere markings, they are a part of the writer’s soul, and a soul is not something that can be tethered down.

Words are alive

The Absurdity of the Younger Generation

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answers, any, don't, have, just, opinion, random, society, some, that I, thinking, to

This post is little more than a rant, but I feel that it is something that has to be said. I, as part of generation Y and very much like my peers, am very opinionated and full of myself. I realize this, and while I think that it is something that is very integral to being a younger human being on this world, I believe that there is something else to it. While I do have a very high opinion of myself sometimes, I do find that I sometimes harbor a certain contempt for myself. And I think this has something to do with my expectations and attitude regarding a few things: How I should be treated, how I think of other people, and what I think of the world and how unfair it is.

Now, I know none of this is new to many people. Most people on this website have a fair number of years on me, being 19, and I doubt that anyone would be surprised to find that I am no different than the average teen. However, I think that I do carry a certain attitude with me regarding how I should be treated. Every human should be treated a certain way, but sometimes I find myself thinking that I should be treated with more respect because of the fact that I am young. Or, sometimes simply because I feel like I know more than others around me. I find this kind of attitude abhorrent in other people, and I think of how entitled they seem to think they are. Still, I find that this attitude is within myself as well. It’s appalling when I think back in retrospect, yet I still adopt that entitled attitude.

Maybe it’s part of being younger, of living in a world where people cater to the younger generation and say that we should have more of a chance than our elders all in the name of us being young. Sometimes I appreciate the boost in confidence, but there is still the danger, and ever present reality of egos being shot through the roof. Often, this ego leads me to looking down on others. This “fair chance” that I am being given seems to give me the mentality that I am entitled to everything that I have. And when someone treads upon that entitlement, my pride is hurt in more ways than one.

And because of this hurt pride, I find that my mind shifts to how unfair the world and everyone in it is. The reality is the exact opposite even though the feelings are still there. I sometimes find that my ego has become so large that I have lost sense of reality in a way. This leads to contempt from elders, because I then treat them with a certain kind of contempt. It’s a vicious circle. That’s why I title this post the way that I did. I find that this mentality is not just with me, but also many, many other people my age. I see it, and also hear it from my seniors when they talk of the younger generation. Why are we so contemptuous and believe that we know better, when we know that our elders have the upper hand on us as far as experience goes? Is it something that has been there all along? It is a question that many of us beg the answer to, elders especially. What can we do to change that kind of mentality in the younger generation? I know that I am working on my own attitude, though the answer still sometimes hangs just out of reach.

I Am Very Happy

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ahead, are, days, good, happy, have, just, keep, photography, picture, random thinking, swimming, to, you

It’s a kind of feeling that I can’t really seem to explain. Old cliches come to mind, but they don’t do what I am feeling justice. I am so blessed with a wonderful family, solid friends, and an education that just keeps growing. I have my Religion which has been making me happier and happier every single day, and my love for it keeps growing. I am lacking nothing as I have a job, money, food, and everything else that I could ever need. Sometimes, I feel like I don’t deserve it all. There is a nagging that says in my ear, “you shouldn’t have this”. And sometimes I feel like that nagging is right. But I know that, ultimately, it isn’t right. I know that I am where I am, because I have been blessed with so much. Then, when I am ready, I will help others more than I have been already with the resources that I have been given.

I know that I have been posting a lot of this stuff lately, but it’s all true, and I can’t help but continue in my expression of it. I hope that some people will realize that things aren’t all that bad. I mean, things are bad, but times will get better like they always do. Keep on swimming, as Dory says. Better days are ahead. How much further are they? We can never know, but we can know that they are there.

I think that I’ll make a real post tomorrow. It’s been long over-due.

The light is always ahead.

Nothing Special But Tea And Thoughts

Tags

acts of kindness, frustrations, give, love, musings, never, ramblings, tea, thoughts, tired, up

I’m just writing as I think. Relaxing, in a way. Releasing a sort of “building up” inside of me. I should really be falling asleep, as I am beginning to feel woozy from the long day, but I don’t think that I will.

I will finish this toast that is next to me, drink my tea, and think. Sit and ponder, and wonder where my life is taking me. So many things are wrong with the world, and I want them to go away. But maybe there have already been so many things wrong with it, that we can’t even begin to comprehend it all.

People kill people, rape, loot, cheat, and steal. We all seem to be pathetically evil. Villains of our own. It’s easy, so very easy, to take a negative stance on the human race. Why are we here? What purpose other than to exist is there? If I were to jump off of a building, why should people care? I know that if there really was no point to life, then my death would mean nothing.

But I know that there is more to things than this. We all have a purpose, each to one another. And people are good, when asked and shown how to be. Despite the bad, there will always be that good inside of us, screaming to escape, and when it does, it affects others. It makes them smile and laugh, wanting to see what else is in store for them.

For now though, my tea and toast is what my attention desires most before I lay myself down for bed. We do have a purpose: it’s to love. Selfless acts to one another, always to further each other. I think that it’s time we all realized that. Nothing given is nothing gained.

Goodnight everyone.
Until tomorrow.

Have a seat, for the path is long. We can not do it alone. You have to realize this.

Sitting Contentedly

Tags

contented, difficult, family, food, happy, iPod, my, not, on, playing, too, Written

The sun is slowly lowering its head toward the ground, letting its dark blanket descend over the city. Mom is feeding the youngest sibling of our family while the crickets timidly begin their symphony of short chirrups. A faint breeze is coming through the open window in our large dining room. A car honks in the distance and I smile. Some of my younger siblings are playing out in the yard: sword fighting with sticks.
It’s little moments like this that make things worth it. I’m stuffed, with the last bits of supper still on my tongue, and I’m surrounded by my family. They are all so happy and I am happy.
I wonder, how many other people ever just sit in their family’s presence and think of just how lucky they are?