Perception @ MindSay 
Judging
We all judge somehow. Some more than others. Or perhaps some are just more vocal than others about it.
We all gossip. some more than others. Or perhaps some are just less discrete about it.
The question is.. why? Why is it so much easier to look outside than within? Why is it so much easier to talk about others than ourselves?
It's well settled that we see everyone else more clearly than we see ourselves. Perhaps it is all about perception. The same face you see in the mirror is the face that you reveal to the world. Yet the underlying lines are something only you will see. Perhaps because you're the only one who knows exactly why they are there.
Perhaps its not so much perception then that colours life but knowledge and experience.
We all gossip. some more than others. Or perhaps some are just less discrete about it.
The question is.. why? Why is it so much easier to look outside than within? Why is it so much easier to talk about others than ourselves?
It's well settled that we see everyone else more clearly than we see ourselves. Perhaps it is all about perception. The same face you see in the mirror is the face that you reveal to the world. Yet the underlying lines are something only you will see. Perhaps because you're the only one who knows exactly why they are there.
Perhaps its not so much perception then that colours life but knowledge and experience.
(no subject)
Isn't it just amazing how time flies?
It feels like ages have passed since high school, yet only a few years have gone by. Even this year has gone by so fast itself. Wasn't it just yesterday that this year began? It feels that a lifetime ago I started at the university that I'm at, but it hasn't been quite a year yet. This summer feels like it just started yesterday, yet at the same time it's been here for years (that might be due to the relentless heat of summer).
Before I know it my senior year of college will begin and time will pick up speed, or slow dramatically with my anticipation. Either way this rite of passage grows less distant every day.
Don't really know if there was a point to this. Other than my nostalgia and being mesmerized by my own perception of time.
It feels like ages have passed since high school, yet only a few years have gone by. Even this year has gone by so fast itself. Wasn't it just yesterday that this year began? It feels that a lifetime ago I started at the university that I'm at, but it hasn't been quite a year yet. This summer feels like it just started yesterday, yet at the same time it's been here for years (that might be due to the relentless heat of summer).
Before I know it my senior year of college will begin and time will pick up speed, or slow dramatically with my anticipation. Either way this rite of passage grows less distant every day.
Don't really know if there was a point to this. Other than my nostalgia and being mesmerized by my own perception of time.
Beautiful World
There is so, so much that is beautiful in this world.
My work, my life, my dream, is about helping people. About taking something that's not so great, and healing it. Sometimes all I can do is listen to someone hurting, but contrary to the implied definition, even that's not a passive experience. Unless I'm having a selfish day, I'm always looking for something to give, something to do, some way to help.
Until the moment when I break out of the trees, and my words are stolen by a painted sky, over a forest so dark it's been reduced to two dimensions. The lake carries deep secrets of beauty under a glassy surface, a surface that permits no entry because disturbing it would be beyond criminal. There's a line of amber in the middle of the shadows, revealing that part of that flat black treeline is an island. Beauty and darkness blending into something beyond the definitions of each.
The morning I go out for a walk in the mist on the shore. The waves are crashing, running in and out as though searching for something in the gravel. The brightly wet rocks slide from under my weight, and the sky is impassively gray, too great to be aware of the tiny crustaceans that skitter and slide higher up the shore, demanding safety. The whole world seems to be waiting for something, and maybe it's just for me to leave, so that it can celebrate in its riotous joy. A promise of a terrific storm later. Can a storm have emotion? It seems to promise beauty and emotion, but in such a way to defy both terms.
The hushed open-air cathedral of the trees, with the long grass that invites all and tells nothing. High enough on the hills that the wind is your companion, and only a hawk soars over you. Dusty leaves enjoy their new settings, and the smell of the woods dances tantalizingly past your eyes. Lying down in that long soft grass, the earth accepting your weight, gazing up at the tall pale trees. There's a song here from before we knew notation, and so we'll never be able to take down the notes. Elusive and welcoming. Beautiful.
Only fifteen feet from the surface, and it's a totally different world. The floor is carved by a different master, the ceiling is in constant motion. A valley so deep that darkness seems to bleed out of it, reaching to pull you in and hide you forever, whispering the secrets that will make you forget the sun. Startled life that darts away from your form into better hiding. Sound you can't remember when you break the surface again. Beautiful. Beautiful.
There's nothing I can do, no words I can say. This was a place where I'm not going to be serving, where I'm not going to be helping or making anything better. The only thing I can possibly do here is view, drink, perceive. I'll be something of a holding receptacle for this moment.
That's all I can do - sit, listen with my eyes. Why? I won't have the words to tell anyone else about it later. I can't capture the sound, the taste of the air and convert it. I'm not a painter or a sculptor, to be able to convey this. Even the act of taking a picture would seem to interrupt something, to turn the focus back on the little person down here.
I'm not sure I know why. Maybe it's something I need to see to be all right. Maybe it's just because to see this and walk away without taking it in would be completely wrong. Maybe I'll be able to come back here and bring someone else with me. Maybe it's something that will teach me to love better, somehow. I don't know. I just know that this is beautiful, and I need to take it in.
My work, my life, my dream, is about helping people. About taking something that's not so great, and healing it. Sometimes all I can do is listen to someone hurting, but contrary to the implied definition, even that's not a passive experience. Unless I'm having a selfish day, I'm always looking for something to give, something to do, some way to help.
Until the moment when I break out of the trees, and my words are stolen by a painted sky, over a forest so dark it's been reduced to two dimensions. The lake carries deep secrets of beauty under a glassy surface, a surface that permits no entry because disturbing it would be beyond criminal. There's a line of amber in the middle of the shadows, revealing that part of that flat black treeline is an island. Beauty and darkness blending into something beyond the definitions of each.
The morning I go out for a walk in the mist on the shore. The waves are crashing, running in and out as though searching for something in the gravel. The brightly wet rocks slide from under my weight, and the sky is impassively gray, too great to be aware of the tiny crustaceans that skitter and slide higher up the shore, demanding safety. The whole world seems to be waiting for something, and maybe it's just for me to leave, so that it can celebrate in its riotous joy. A promise of a terrific storm later. Can a storm have emotion? It seems to promise beauty and emotion, but in such a way to defy both terms.
The hushed open-air cathedral of the trees, with the long grass that invites all and tells nothing. High enough on the hills that the wind is your companion, and only a hawk soars over you. Dusty leaves enjoy their new settings, and the smell of the woods dances tantalizingly past your eyes. Lying down in that long soft grass, the earth accepting your weight, gazing up at the tall pale trees. There's a song here from before we knew notation, and so we'll never be able to take down the notes. Elusive and welcoming. Beautiful.
Only fifteen feet from the surface, and it's a totally different world. The floor is carved by a different master, the ceiling is in constant motion. A valley so deep that darkness seems to bleed out of it, reaching to pull you in and hide you forever, whispering the secrets that will make you forget the sun. Startled life that darts away from your form into better hiding. Sound you can't remember when you break the surface again. Beautiful. Beautiful.
There's nothing I can do, no words I can say. This was a place where I'm not going to be serving, where I'm not going to be helping or making anything better. The only thing I can possibly do here is view, drink, perceive. I'll be something of a holding receptacle for this moment.
That's all I can do - sit, listen with my eyes. Why? I won't have the words to tell anyone else about it later. I can't capture the sound, the taste of the air and convert it. I'm not a painter or a sculptor, to be able to convey this. Even the act of taking a picture would seem to interrupt something, to turn the focus back on the little person down here.
I'm not sure I know why. Maybe it's something I need to see to be all right. Maybe it's just because to see this and walk away without taking it in would be completely wrong. Maybe I'll be able to come back here and bring someone else with me. Maybe it's something that will teach me to love better, somehow. I don't know. I just know that this is beautiful, and I need to take it in.
Parents are overly fond of formalities
My parents reconed we needed to "talk" again, and have to go to some other place to do it - I try to ask them why they can't just tell me now what's on their mind - why wait? - I'll still take it in just as seriously, but they say it gives it more "importance" - I say it makes no difference to me and I should've said that the only thing that's different about it (that's able to give it that "imporance" is the formality - so they think that I actually take notice of it more if it's formal, and for some reason they think it's "better" - try getting them to give you a striaght answer to why
It is inconvenient to be interupted in whatever I'm doing and be assigned an arbitary timeslot at an arbitary place - but they assume that I'm only doing this for the selfish reason of wanting to do my own thing (they always think i'm being selfish - but I dare not try to make them realise that thinking that having me jump whenever they command is selfish - it cuts both ways, but I know there'd be one helluva arguement because they wouldn't want to accept it.
They are masters at evading the point and using anything I say as cover, there wouldn;t be the fight if they actually listened - not just pretending they are with a pre-formed response of how crap I am but actually took me seriously - but they're so hard to fight, because I can't prove to them that they're not taking me seriously, but it's obvious that they couldn't maintain their position if they were listening. They always think I argue with them out of selfishness, and that even I am trying to get something out of them, it's hard to get them to trust me
I wish, if ever something came on their mind, they felt free to say it there and then (and I said that) - there's no point in waiting till later - and I have to talk to people at any oppertunity I get all the time at work - they say they can't talk while doing something else - but I know that's crap - they don't have to prepare and psyche themselves up into arguement mode just because there's some issue on their minds. They also think I avoid them because I don't ask their advice, but I can't imagine it actually helping me - I figure stuff out for myself, when something's on my mind an arguement is the last thing I need. More often though there's nothing to say - life is the same as before, with no real threat, and it doesn't upset me easily, so what can I say? - They complain about work everyday, I don't need to spill my guts at every inconvenience, I don't even try to remember bad things, I'd rather get on.
It is inconvenient to be interupted in whatever I'm doing and be assigned an arbitary timeslot at an arbitary place - but they assume that I'm only doing this for the selfish reason of wanting to do my own thing (they always think i'm being selfish - but I dare not try to make them realise that thinking that having me jump whenever they command is selfish - it cuts both ways, but I know there'd be one helluva arguement because they wouldn't want to accept it.
They are masters at evading the point and using anything I say as cover, there wouldn;t be the fight if they actually listened - not just pretending they are with a pre-formed response of how crap I am but actually took me seriously - but they're so hard to fight, because I can't prove to them that they're not taking me seriously, but it's obvious that they couldn't maintain their position if they were listening. They always think I argue with them out of selfishness, and that even I am trying to get something out of them, it's hard to get them to trust me
I wish, if ever something came on their mind, they felt free to say it there and then (and I said that) - there's no point in waiting till later - and I have to talk to people at any oppertunity I get all the time at work - they say they can't talk while doing something else - but I know that's crap - they don't have to prepare and psyche themselves up into arguement mode just because there's some issue on their minds. They also think I avoid them because I don't ask their advice, but I can't imagine it actually helping me - I figure stuff out for myself, when something's on my mind an arguement is the last thing I need. More often though there's nothing to say - life is the same as before, with no real threat, and it doesn't upset me easily, so what can I say? - They complain about work everyday, I don't need to spill my guts at every inconvenience, I don't even try to remember bad things, I'd rather get on.
Light has dawned
"The people who sat in darkness
have seen a great light,
And upon those who sat in the region
and shadow of death
Light has dawned."
Matthew 4:16
Why do so many of us experience deep dispair in our lives?
Why do we seem to struggle through crisis after crisis
without celebrating the fact that we already made it through crisis after crisis already?
Why do we make wrong choices,
that bring pain and loss into our lives ... over and over?
Why do we struggle and strive just to have as much as ... or more than our neighbor?
Are we choosing to live in darkness,
or receiving the Light?
Life is about choices;
About learning to make the right choices ~
Choices that lead to compassion, satisfaction, fulfillment.
~ B
What makes you really happy?
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Re: Thank You and Apologies. - Amen, my friend. :)
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