accepted

Today is my two year anniversary with WordPress. Two years of writing. Two years of dramatic personal change. Two years of being proud of what I’ve written most days, and two years of half-finished writings stored on my phone and in my computer. A lot can be learned from writing. I especially enjoy writing about my experiences in the world, and when I sat down to write today I thought I would explore my fascination with the human heart. But as I write, I keep thinking about all of the less-than-satisfactory words I have put together over the past two years. The stories that didn’t make it outside of my file folder, or outside of my journal, or outside of my mind. The beautiful, but broken, stories that I felt would not be accepted or celebrated. I realized midway through my journey of writing that I never want to write for an audience. I never want to write to appease a crowd or get “likes” (although I do enjoy getting feedback from my posts). I would always write from my heart. I would always write words that were motivated by genuine intention. For this reason, sometimes many weeks go by before I write. Edgar Allan Poe once wrote about in “The Philosophy of Composition” that all stories are premeditated with the end in mind, that no stories occur out of divine inspiration. I disagree though. I am convinced that some of the most beautiful works of literature were inspired purely by the capacity to write and the want to do it. Not all writings were designed to deliver a purpose. Not all words were methodically placed together to convey a message, at least one that was anticipated beforehand. This makes me feel as if one of the purest forms of art has been reduced to pushing an agenda. And I just can’t believe it. I truly think some words, at least my own, are inspired by an intent to write. Not an intent to satisfy the reader.

But I think of those flawed, puzzling pieces of my writings that remain unread by those other than my own eyes. I think of the times I have started writing and ended prematurely. I think of the times I imagine writing something that would be moving, exciting, celebrated. And then I stop, and insecurity floods in. I am not a writer. Many times, I hide what I write.

I think human behavior can relate to the way I view my own stories and compositions. The good pieces are always published. They are always on display for others to read. Everyone has access to what I view as my more polished writings. But the faulty ones, the less perfect ones, they are hidden for my own eyes to see.

Humans are flawed.

We are all flawed. Yet we try, so diligently, to create a flawless image in the eyes of others. We are all guilty of this. Myself most definitely included. We paint pictures on social media of lives that are full of happiness and success. We post images of our friends, our husbands, our beautiful homes and cute outfits. We attend church and sing songs that portray a life that is without pain, without suffering. We chat with our friends about all of the good things that are happening in our lives.

But all human lives are flawed.

And I truly think that if we showed more of who we really were, more of who we are everyday, day in and day out, that we would be a freer human race. Humans weren’t created to experience pure joy. We shouldn’t be expected to maintain an image that shows this standard either. We are made of disappointments and successes. We are made of triumphs and defeats. The little intricacies that make our lives are what comprise who we are. I am half-written, sloppily-tied-together ideas left in a journal. I am phone notes full of thoughts that I started writing about. My life is spattered with disappointments, heartbreaks, and very real sadness. I don’t always win, I don’t always succeed. My brightest days are complemented with my days of uncertainty. No one holds immunity to life. No one writes perfect pieces all the time.

I love that human life is flawed. I think one of the greatest things about Christianity is that the ruler of the universe, the maker of the world, sent his own son into the world to experience the human dynamic. I believe a big thing we can realize is that God in the flesh didn’t hide his suffering. He cried out. He felt betrayal. He knew pain, and he expressed it. What makes us any more human where we feel scared to show others that we suffer?

Would I be a worse scientist if I didn’t tell people the many, many times I failed to understand? Would I be a worse Christian if I hid from people the own doubts I have about my faith? Would I be a worse writer if I didn’t tell people of my incomplete and unworthy writings? Surely the answer to all of these is yes. But I truly don’t know. I feel being real and genuine would allow us to explore even deeper into the things we love. Knowing we have failed, and will fail, offers a liberation from a standard of perfection that is unattainable. I know my desire is unlikely. I just yearn for a world where we could all see the value in being more real, more authentic. We shouldn’t feel ashamed of the less perfect aspects of our lives. We should treasure the diverse pieces that ultimately fit together to make the imperfect, unique, and valuable us.

But my writings remain hidden and my flaws remain covered. And one day when someone is bold enough to unashamedly show their less perfect lives, my words will be set free and hopefully we will be too.

 

theories

I want to talk about the theory of relativity.

and compassion. I want to talk about compassion.

The theory of general relativity is honestly one of the most fascinating concepts to me. Over the summer, I read Einstein’s Cosmos by Michio Kaku while I was at the beach. I remember feeling overwhelmed and very, very small as I sat on the beach and glared into the evasive ocean and seemingly limitless aqua blue sky. I remember feelings of awe, and of curiosity of what lies out there. I remember feelings of gratitude and incomprehensible intrigue. I wanted to ask questions. One day, I cannot wait to have my most inquisitive questions answered by the great Creator of all things. I grew an even greater appreciation for Whom I believe made these magical, quintessential concepts. I wish I had the knowledge capacity to explain what the theory of relativity is, but I do not, and I would be lessening the value of the theory if I tried to explain it. I do know, however, that this theory concerns two heavenly objects in reference to each other or each in reference to a certain inertial frame. A subdued example of this is being in a train and looking out the sides. To you, the train is traveling at a fast speed and the trees and grass and sky are all artistically blending together. But if there was a train speeding parallel to you, traveling the same exact speed and you look out the window and see yourself in the other train, you will not be moving at all in that frame of reference. So, although you are moving and the train is moving, according to that inertial frame (where you see yourself) you are still. The term theory of relativity typically questions the earth in reference to other cosmological bodies. Relativity states that time can bend, and warp, and change. Time, on earth, is said to be constant. We have atomic clocks that inherently tell us the precise time. But in space, time changes. Time is warped. Depending on what reference point you are, time may be “normal” to you. It is relative.

I feel that this same concept of relativity can be applied to other areas of our lives. We have to remember that we are not celestial bodies in various frames of reference. We are humans with emotions. We are experiences. We are memories. We must maintain an open heart and be understanding of situations that require our relative frames of minds. Too many times I feel that we as a human race, collectively and individually, make decisions and judgements without being subjective. Every person we meet has an issue, a problem, a disappointment that we know nothing about. Every person we meet is having difficult thoughts that are discouraging. We all have them. Relativity tells us to greet these humans, sensitive and raw people that feel just as we do, with compassionate hearts and open ears relative to their situation. Do not judge. I am a true believer that within every earthly body, that proclaims a religion or not, remains a piece of good. For me, this innately “good” is implanted by a graceful God. For others, this may be a derivative of perceived consciousness. Whatever your greater self may be, look for that in other people. Seek the good. One of my favorite quotes comes from Randy Pausch, “earnest is better than hip.” When I first read this section of his book, I discounted the information in it and thought that quote was dated. But then I really dissected what this means. Being an earnest person, a person with integrity, is cooler and more rewarding than someone who does things and treats people a certain way to fit in. Be relative with people. View them from a personal, compassionate frame of reference. Treat others as if they are walking on the egg shells of life. Love people. Love them generously.


some great quotes from Randy Pausch (because The Last Lecture is one of my favorite books) and because I plan on writing about these beautiful concepts soon:

  • “Go and do for others what they have done for you.”
  • “No, the park is open until 8pm.”
  • “If I work hard enough, there will be things I can do tomorrow that I can’t do today.”
  • “We cannot change the cards we are dealt, only how we choose to play.”
  • “Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted. And experience is the most valuable thing you can have.”
  • “Focus on people, not things.”
  • “Find the best in everybody. Just keep waiting no matter how long it takes. No one is all evil. Everybody has a good side, just keep waiting, it will come out.”