Day 10: The Vibrancy

It's almost the Year-Anniversary of this poem. I thought that, seeing as winter is getting the boot soon, this little jaunt would be appropriate.


Color

Grey or Gray, it's a sallow day
during the fearsome roar of march
on top of reddened clay there is no green or play
no vibrancy, this land is parched

The tops of trees rattle, bare, in the breeze
with only the dead leaves to shade
but, up, a green shoot squeezed, into the light it eased
and color will follow this small blade.

It all Explodes and the gray erodes
and the song of the seasons changes
the warm wind blows and the soft rain flows
and on these hils, heavens' color graces

So don't cry, child, for life is now mild
though forever, this cannot be
Through springtime's smile and through winter wild
Color ebbs and flows like the sea.

Day 9: The Kryptonite

Not sure if this is a regular occurrence to everyone, but there are days that I simply wake up feeling invincible. It's like I could wake up with a knife buried in my heart and simply pull it out, toss it in the "Wash" portion of my sink, brush my teeth and get on with my day like nothing happened. I drive to work, daring every truck or vehicle with a ramming bar to blitz a red light and T-bone me so that I can walk out of the blazing wreck, adjust my aviators, and sprint the 5 miles to work. (I'd also inexplicably change into a 3 piece suit during the crash.)

This got me to thinking. (A dangerous pastime, I know.) What if I lived in a constant state of feeling invincible? What would that look like? What would it look like if everyone lived like they were invincible? And then I realized something.

We already are invincible.

Think about it logically with me. How many times do we die? Hebrews 9 gives us the obvious answer :²⁷ Just as people are destined to die once, and after that to face judgment, ²⁸ so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many; and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him.

So.... We only die once. Which gives us two other logical deductions. We are only born once, and we only live once. So here is a thought, If God has a definite plan for our lives that makes the best use of us and accomplishes his perfect plan, why are we so scared? And what are we scared of? As Christians, we are already guaranteed a life with Christ after death, so death isn't something we should be scared of as it only releases us into the presence and community of God. And if death isn't to be feared, then what on earth is there to frighten us?

I don't claim to have the answer, but my best guess is that we fear being uncomfortable. We want to have a secure and predictable life. One that doesn't cause too much stress and allows for a sheltered existence, free from all intrusions and inconveniences. I know that there are several ways that comfort can be manifested. Personally, I take no comfort in interacting with anyone that I don't already know. My social range of comfort is extremely limited, to the extreme where I have gone through 4 years of college in fairly small classrooms (less than 100, usually) and I know probably two people's names. I HATE initiating a social exchange, and pleasantries such as "How are you doing? How's your day?" are strained when coming from my throat.

Some people may empathize with me, or maybe they take comfort in the security of their income. They see their paycheck as a barrier between them and the unpleasant world that would befall them if their buying power couldn't get them the most ergonomic style of living possible. Others may find comfort in a physical aspect, avoiding corporal pain or hardships. Whatever our bubble of comfort is, we have to understand that we cannot be effective tools for Christ's hand if we never poke our head out of whatever foxhole we've dug.

This is where the part about us being invincible becomes incredibly potent. It may not be literal hollow points flying at you and harmlessly ricocheting off with sweet sound effects, but Christ knows exactly how you are best used and when you can finally achieve your rest. So think of it this way, until you finish whatever calling God has for you, you can't be stopped. Sure you can be hampered, waylaid, distracted or even outright attacked. But if God is using you as a tool for his master plan, you're going to be able to go all die-hard until your part of the plan is finished. And when that happens, you'll be allowed the greatest comfort imaginable, which is resting in the presence of God.

I like to draw on the wisdom of the movie "Big Fish". A young Edward Bloom muses about the pros and cons of knowing your own death.
 " I was thinking about death and all. About seeing how you're gonna die. I mean, on one hand, if dying was all you thought about, it could kind of screw you up. But it could kind of help you, couldn't it? Because you'd know that everything else you can survive."

And we have much more than surviving to look forward to. So put some figurative shells in both barrels of your shotgun (or literal, If needs be) Step out boldly and with confidence that, while you may not be able to do anything you set your hands to, If you put your hands on God's project, no amount of knives, bullets, mad cow disease, cancer, swine flu, rusty pieces of metal that some idiot keeps leaving on the middle of the sidewalk, or anything will be able to keep you from accomplishing your part in it. But it's up to you, that's the beauty of free will. And if we let it, comfort can be our kryptonite.

"Today isn't certain. Tomorrow is never guaranteed. Live every day with God's passion for man's salvation, and be deathly afraid of living timidly.

Day 8: The Masked Words

It seems that, in the absence of having to forage for food and collecting raindrops in broken leaves, the modern world has had to create new problems in order to fulfill the necessity of conflict in life. At the same time, we as modern humans have had to confront the most recessed and uncharted caverns of the human soul, psyche, and sentience. I'm not sure if the people who occasionally read this page will resonate with this small snapshot I took of myself a few months back, but to be bluntly honest, I haven't really thought of anything original to write about recently, and I also need to take a shower.
So here it is, a little piece I wrote a while back that may give words to those like me who have a pretty dang good life, and still find a way to be frustrated with it.

Automaton:

Somewhere inside me, tears are dammed up.

Holding against a concrete wall of Apathy,

False Bravado,

Fear of weakness.

Even as the words appear on the field of white, I know

That I have pierced a cyst of emotion in the chasm of my being.

Behind the wall of cynicism,

Nonchalance,

Carefree childishness.

There lies a broken man in a deep, deep lake of tears and blood.

Blood that I have yet to shed, and tears that may never see daylight.

I am so mediocre, so blessed, so cursed.

I will never know what true suffering is, and that thought itself gives me pain.

Why, God, Why does nothing cause feeling?

I plead with you for something other than mild

A change for better or worse, I embrace either equally.

This stagnant pool gives me no release, no catharsis.

I cannot cry because I have not reason.

And so I just may burst at the seams.

With tears which will never know cause,

Pain that will never follow blood,

Fear that will never find source,

Sadness that will never be traced.

My God, this Stoicism is my curse.

Welp, that was fun. Shower time.

Day 7: The Re-boot

Computers are the backbone of our society today. It's fairly close to fact. And if that's true, then my spinal cord has been severed for the past week or so. I went to turn on my trusty compy one day only to find that it had figuratively lost it's marbles, scattered them all over cyberspace, and was lying to me about "thinking about booting".

The result was an utterly freeing experience. It was not that I had no responsibilities, it was that I had no means to resolve those responsibilities within my immediate wingspan at all times. General apathy settled in (as pertaining to doing anything productive) and I had a miniature childhood all over again.
Paypal my bills? Start writing that paper? Respond to that facebook message from a friend who I never see anyways? I'd have to drive to school and use their computers, so the answer is negative. Freedom.

But like all good rides, this roller coaster rounded the last curve and the pressure-brakes of reuniting with my computer engaged, sending my teeth into the greasy restraining bars of reality and repercussions. But that's not what I wanted to say, I had a different idea forming in my head during my hiatus from technology. And it has to do with rain.

Rainy days. The general appraisal of them is mixed. Some find joy in them, and others find themselves wrapped in every blanket in their possession, eyes melted into hazy mirrors reflecting the rain running down their window, and a pathetic expression of futile loathing stapled to their eyebrows and chin. I am not going to delve into the personality types that lend themselves to either of these archetypes. Rather, I would simply like to make a small list of things that one can do to enjoy a rainy day to the fullest.


1: Feeling depressed with no explainable reasoning.

I'm not sure how many people I speak for on this subject, but I have a pretty dang good life. (As in, "Dang. Life, It's good.") And people like me don't get the opportunity to have a good reason to mope. We can try to make up excuses like "I licked a 9volt battery" or that there's no TV shows with Bear Grylls on at this exact moment. Being sad can have a profound cathartic effect that allows for a fuller range of emotion and gives a person a sense of holistic existence. A rainy day is the perfect time to slowly pound your head into a door frame. Quick, do it before the sun comes out.


2: Pretending like you're an artist.

Even if you have no artistic aptitude at all, the day that the sky begins to shed tears is going to be the day that you attempt to transform into Van Gogh, Mozart, or Gary Larson. You'll pick up a brush/pen/hunk of off-brown clay and paint/write/smoosh a masterpiece/pulitzer prize/smooshed and oily hunk of off-brown clay like it was nobody's business. When the sun comes back out, it's probably a good idea to throw away/white-out/scrape your floor tiles with a chisel in one hand and shop vac in the other.


3: Listening to all that soft music that you bought during a rainy day and never listen to.

Seriously, you spent like 40 dollars on this junk and you've only listened to it on the Itunes preview. Get your money's worth while the day is still as blue-gray as the music.


4: Feeling like Rambo.

The rain starts hitting your roof and a wild glint hits gasoline fumes in your iris. Your breathing quickens and your jaw muscles become rigid and start trying to find the best angle for a camera shot. Shirt comes ripping off like a panther ripping into a pile of Christmas presents smothered in gravy and you are immediately sprinting down the street, gripping whatever bow-like object your hands could grab (most likely a nasty tree branch with poison oak on it, which you'll consciously ignore in a state of mannish intensity) and imagining that you actually have chest muscles. All men are born with this instinct pre-programmed into our psyches, but it can be suppressed through repeated imbibing of caramel lattes and the putting of Toms shoes on the feet. Women probably don't have this, and it's best that way. Women, please stick to point number 1.

There are many other ways to exploit the emotional shift that occurs during a rainy day. But nothing is as incredible as the change that can take place when a rainy day turns into a lightning storm. But we'll talk about that later.