Pictures

Frozen moment in time. Smiles, fake and genuine. One story told, a dozen others hidden. What lurks behind that momentary happiness? A time when someone was more than they are now. It's impossible to predict where their paths will end. You only wish that you could return to the time when everything was simpler. Known. The moment in that picture. A moment seen through objective lens, captured by an unfeeling camera. You wish you were as happy as that picture made you look. A frozen moment of joy that in unfortunate reality may not have even been genuine in its capture. What use is nostalgia? What use is the longing for a time that now only exists on a 4x7 piece of paper, an evocation of tears? I look at my wall of pictures and I think, these are the people who made me. I owe them for who I am, and who I want to be. I can't fail them. Yet, they are already so different from the people they were in those pictures. I am so different. My dreams aren't, but my life is. That's what happens to so  many people: life. How do I keep life from robbing me too? How do I remain the smiling face in that picture? What happens if I never become the successful person they saw in the me in that picture? What happens if I become less than what I was then? Will they still love me like they did when we took that picture together? Will they still be here? Will I still be here? Or, will I be stuck in a longing for the past?

Inside, Lookin' Out

You ever get the feelin', you're inside, lookin' out? Like, you can see all the good in others, but you can't see it in yourself? You start believing phrases that have been told to you, but only when you're applying it to someone else. For example, I have had many people along my way that have expressed a faith in my future and in me, that they know I'm gonna be fine, great even. They see "talent" and "success." And, though I am always floored with gratitude for such praise, I find I lack this type of faith within myself. How do they know? "I just do," they'll say, and I reply with a skeptical raise of the brow. When they say that, I both understand and do not understand. I understand their "assurance" for I have felt that way for many of the amazing people I have met. I have felt faith in the talents of others, pictured their success and happiness. But, I find it remarkable that I could stir such belief in others. I have done nothing remarkable, only lived my days as I was told. I have been blinded by far brighter stars than I am.


Sometimes, I think God has given us two pairs of eyes, one to see the world, to see out, and one to see inside, within ourselves and others.  One pair you never need learn how to use, the other takes takes constant practice. And, faith, faith is being able to open your inside eyes without ever blinking, what they see is true, and gut feelings, any type of belief, is the knowledge they see/record.


What I think is most difficult, is to see within oneself, but this is for what the second pair of eyes is designed. I can see the potential in others, and now I must learn to see the potential within myself. That is what I want to work on, knowing myself. I like to think I know myself pretty well, but now I'm starting to wonder if I am starting to create illusions for my inward eyes, a most dangerous escapade. I'm staring to worry that I may be trying to force myself to have feelings that aren't there, liking someone I don't because I think I need to like someone, convincing myself I'm an upbeat person when I'm actually not, or maybe, even convincing myself I'm depressed when I'm actually happy. And, maybe, just maybe, this feeling of inside looking out is a warning that I'm using my inward eyes incorrectly. But, I think using my worldly eyes incorrectly will result in a feeling of outside, looking in. Maybe, the trick is to be able to know all views, the outside looking in, the inside looking out, and  blindness, doing rather than viewing. There must be a balance somewhere, and I think I will find it in silence, meditation, and prayer, most simply: peace. I will find the balance where I find peace. So, I ask myself, where do I find peace? In the arts, in being creative, whether it be singing, acting, or directing. Even writing has become a bit therapeutic for me; I feel like this blog is where I can be on the inside looking out, my videos and directing are when I'm outside looking in, and acting and singing is when I'm doing.


There's a quote by Horace Walpole that really resonated with me recently, and it sums up how I would like to see the world and myself:
     "This world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those who feel."
While I lean heavily towards the latter, I like to think I can view as the former. But, in this quote there is to me an inescapable truth: the world is something to everyone. And, judging by the fact that everyone has some capacity, whether limited or wide, to see from both points of view, it is most likely a tragicomedy. 

Lost with No Direction

Lately, I haven't felt any urge to express myself. I'm not sure what, but I think that is supposed to tell me something.

What I have felt is a need to do something with my life. I came to college knowing that I wanted to do theatre. I was going to act no matter what, even if I became a literal starving artist. I was gonna stop putting my love for theatre in the backseat, stop treating it like an extracurricular activity.

But now? Now, it's even more of a luxury than it ever was before. It's so far in the backseat, I'm not sure I see or even love it anymore. Do I still want to act? Am I only asking this question because I haven't acted in so long? Now I also think I might want to direct and do film instead of acting in theatre. But, I also keeping hearing it all the voices that told me I should continue singing or writing, that these were my talents. So, maybe a double major in theatre and film with a minor in English? But, then I leave out singing, and, I must admit, I miss singing. I would be lying if I said I didn't. I miss all of these things, all of my creative outlets, the things that kept me sane. I haven't acted in a year and a half, only ever directed one video, and stopped singing almost three years ago. Even if I studied these things, I wouldn't have the time to practice them, which is what I truly wish to do and what I thought college would give me. But, to keep up academically, I'd have to push enjoyment and practice to the wayside.

My conclusion? I just don't know anymore. And, that is the fact I feel most ashamed to admit. I don't know. Growing up, I had been haughty enough to think that I would know what do with my life once it was fully mine, but I don't. I am just as lost as those around me, something I never wanted to be. It doesn't comfort me to be similar to others in this regard. I like knowing things when it comes to my life and it's outcome.
I'm not asking to know the future, I just want to move towards it. I want to make it happen rather than let it happen to me. I want direction.

Yet, through all of this, the only thing I have done for my future is talk about  it. I have this wonderful gift of life, and the only thing I've thought to do with it is put it on the shelf. I am in the midst of pondering away my youth, of  spending my days wondering and wandering instead of doing and traveling with direction.
I watch these people who inspire me, admire they're determination to do what they love, and think "I wish I could do that." Why can't I? It's simple right? You just stop sitting around and do something. You have to start somewhere. Right? Because I'm scared. I'm scared of the possibilty of not having any money off which to live, of not having a home. I'm scared. What is fear but motivation? This fear should motivate to work harder for a bright future, yet I've somehow made it work in the reverse. It motivates me to do nothing I want to do, but what I have to do. I can't imagine a 9 to 5, yet that's what fear tells me I should persue.

I wish...

I just wish...

What? I don't even know that anymore. Even my thoughts feel without direction, as you can probably tell from this long-winded, fear-filled post. Main idea? Don't think so. If there is, it's the title.

Whew. I feel a little lighter now. Hope you don't feel heavier for reading so much. ;)

Anyway, thanks for stickin' with me if you made it this far, and, of course, advice is welcome.

Home Again

So, I thought I had left you behind, and I was sorry, but when I returned, I realized it was I who had been left. We grow in different directions, yet you all do it together while I must do it alone. It was odd coming back, like watching someone else care for something that once was mine, that once I loved. It was growing, changing one good way after another, and I had missed it. I had missed those changes. It was becoming better yet farther from me. I had selfishly expected it to return to me, but instead had to face the truth that though I may belong to it, it does not belong to me. It may refuse to accept me in its arms agin, if it so wish. It doesn't need me to be what it is, but it is an inseparable part of me.

To what I had wanted to return was a memory of days gone by, a mirage of your former self. I had foolishly assumed that nothing had changed, but in such a short time apart, we had become strangers. What should have been a comfortable slip into familiarity had become an awkward dance of reacquaintance. But, proving it's inevitability, our relationship became clear again.

It is the feel of my favorite worn pair of sneakers. The familiarity of late night drives to clear the mind, empty back roads. It is the comfort of my favorite food and my favorite place. It is the knowledge of when, where, and who I am. It's is my get-a-way, my haven. It was all these things I had forgotten, that I had taken for granted. It is home and I had missed you.

Wounds from Your Perfection

Ow. Ow. OW! I don't wanna sound like I'm complaining or anything, but you're stepping all over my heart, and I'd really like it if you stopped. You're so oblivious to the fact that everything you say, everything you do, adds another crack to my taped together heart. But, I'm not oblivious. I feel every pang as strongly as the first. So please, stop being so perfect and wonderful. I can't compete. Sometimes, I feel like you are the sun and I am the moon, a pale reflection of your brightness. But, even though it hurts, I don't want you to change. I love your warmth, but I wish you would think the moon is beautiful in her paleness, her coldness, her isolation. I wish you could see that she is in love with the sun, though she can only gaze from afar.

Forgiveness

So let's talk forgivenesss. Someone very important to me is struggling with this right now, and I wish there was someting more I could do for them besides sympathize. I wish I could give them the peace that I have. Instead, I would like to tell them what I learned when I was struggling with forgiveness. And, with any luck, maybe it will help or maybe it's something they've already heard before.

But, what I have learned about this so far, as I'm sure I still have much to learn, is that forgiveness truly is an act that sets the giver free. I know that sounds like what they all say, but it is so true. When you finally decide to give it and truly give it, you are free. You lift away all the negative feelings you had about the matter. You get to let go, knowing you've done all you can and that your forgiveness may help the person forgive themselves. You are only hurting yourself by holding a grudge.

Also, I've found that when the transgression is great enough, foregiveness is something you have to work at. It's not something that can be given instantaneously when the emotional cut is deep. It takes a lot of work and time to put yourself in a position to forgive. It's not easy to give because emotions make it so hard to let go of the anger and hurt you feel. Even when you get to the place where you can forgive, it doesn't erase the wrongdoing. You'll always remember it, and so there will come times when you find yourself resenting the person again, times when you have to work for the freedom of forgiveness. Resentment is an ugly beast not easily slain, you will have to fight again and again.

Lastly, I don't think forgiveness absolves the crime. Actions have consequences and some have punishments. Just because someone is forgiven doesn't mean they didn't committ the crime. They are responsible Just because you give someone forgiveness doesn't mean you should continue to subject yourself to suffering at their hands. To me, forgiveness is something done for the future of a relationship. It's recognizing that person's wrongdoing and loving them in spite of it. Maybe your relationship, whatever it may be, breaks because of that wrongdoing, but forgiveness is being ok with that. Loving someone though you had to let them go, keeping hatred for them out of your body. Forgiveness is difficult, but it is worth it.

Here are some who said it better than I:

To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover the prisoner was you.—Unknown

Anger makes you smaller, while forgiveness forces you to grow beyond what you were. --Cherie Carter-Scott

Forgiveness means that you've decided not to let it keep festering inside even if it only comes up once in awhile. --Doc Childre and Howard Martin

Forgiveness is giving up the possibility of a better past. --Unknown

You will know that forgiveness has begun when you recall those who hurt you and feel the power to wish them well. --Lewis B. Smedes

Let's Stop This

I'm not sure, but this dance feels a little dangerous. The atmosphere seems a little volatile. When you're around it feels like emotions could flare any second, our tenuous peace instantly shattered. When you're around, everyone tiptoes,  but it's still not quiet enough for you. It's so weird. Sometimes, I think I get you; I understand you, but in an instant you prove me wrong. Things I thought would appease you actually grind your gears. What is this game we are playing? I don't like it. Tell me the rules, so I have a chance of winning. Oh, you don't know either? Huh. It's like the only rule is: everybody must lose. Why? Why can't you let things go? How can you not follow your own advice? I'm tired of spinning cirlces on this twisted dance floor, always having to apolgize for stepping on your toes. Sorry, I guess my feet just keep growing. I guess your toes will never be safe. Sure, you can stomp off the dance floor, but you are the one losing a dance partner, not me.