Phew.
So now that Evolution is out of my system, onto brighter things.
Today I came home and for the first time I had the feeling that College might have lost its new, exotic sheen that it wore whence I first became friends with it. The commitments are becoming greater, the relationships with my teachers are becoming more jagged, my desire to sleep is becoming heavier. It feels very much like marriage.
Well, I guess that's not really a fair statement. I've never been married, so of course I wouldn't know what's like marriage and what's not. I suppose that at this stage of my life I simply perceive marriage as a bunch of homework and tedious commitments that make me sleepy.
And that is why I am repulsive when it comes to romances.
I was talking to a friend a couple days ago. I had invited him to church and he said that he would like to come. He also said many other things. He said that he felt like a mission project, and that I was the faithful missionary making sure I invited everyone I knew to church, because that's just what Christians do. This made me sad. It sounded like a very dry way of living... inviting people to church because you felt religiously obligated to do so. Or talking about Jesus because that's simply what we're commanded to do, and it's our cold and lonely destiny to be the obedient saints ministering to the wretches.
How lifeless. How ugly.
I told him that he wasn't a mission project, and that he was simply my friend.
The thing that I've found out about myself recently, and perhaps about humankind in general, is that we share with our friends that which we love. If I find a funny LOL Cats video on youtube, I share it with Ben Dunn. If I find a quirkily written New York Times clip, I share it with my mom. If I find a beautiful song by Yann Tiersen or someone else, I share it with Christy. I share the things that I care about to people that I care about. That's just kind of how we work.
I think that this can go with Jesus or with Church. You like Jesus.. you think he's a cool guy, perhaps the best thing that's ever happened to you. Don't you think it would be emotionally logical to talk about him with people that you care about? I don't know... just a wild guess.
And as for church, well... I love church. Yes, I sound regrettably churchy when I say I love church. But honestly, I do. I love old hymns and church pews. I love pastors who think about what they say. I like thinking and pondering about the strange concepts that surround God. And I think everyone who I care about should join me. That's the only reason I feel like inviting people to church. Not because it's my lofty obligation.
And don't get me wrong. Yes, church is nice sometimes. But when we get down to the nitty gritty, it's not your key into Heaven, wherever or whatever that is.
And on a third and completely unrelated note, the leaves are starting to fall. They gather up by the stairs leading up the hill to Cherry Hall. I like to make sure I step on them to get a good crunch before continuing on my way. It's satisfying... but only for a little while :)
Tuesday, September 28
Sunday, September 26
I'm Sorry.
I feel bad about my latest blog. What was supposed to be a blog about how evolution is a plausible explanation for this life, given the fact that baby's fetuses (and many other fetuses for that matter) look so strange and animal-like, similar to each other in several respects during their earliest stages of development, and given the fact that micro-evolution occurs daily in our world, suddenly turned into a sloppy feel-good Christiany three point message that concludes with "keep your eyes closed with your hands over your ears and sing hymns to yourself and don't think." I have been confronted with this blog by two people already, both of whom's opinions I hold in very high regard. One said that I have generalized evolutionists into being lonely people, and this is a fallacy. And they were right. That was a fallacy and I was wrong. The other shared me a link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9M_ZF8r5e7w&feature=player_embedded of a scholar who is opposed to the idea of the God of the Old Testament, but not opposed to the idea of Intelligent Design. She said that perhaps I shouldn't be too hasty in ruling out such ideas as evolution and, in short, to not be a stupid feel-good Christian.
I give my apologies to both of these people and thank them both for showing me my faults.
Yet in my defense, I do think that I have misrepresented myself quite foolishly.
This whole summer I have been mulling through every idea that has ever been presented to me about life through the perspective of Christianity. I have looked at it with a critical eye and have been disgusted about the un-thinking state that some Christians are in--- the state that I am guilty of being in. I've thought about how we all just parrot cute little sayings to each other, convincing ourselves that those sayings are true and that you're a Christian if you say them. Statements like, "The purpose of life is to glorify God!" or "May God bless you" or the whole concept about God saving us by Grace through Faith. First of all, what does it mean to glorify something? Does God need our glory? And what if God doesn't bless us? Who are we to tell God to bless people, anyway? And where exactly does Grace stop and Faith come into play? I could go off onto all sorts of tangents, but I won't. All of those questions may seem very basic, but once you delve in a little further, you'll see what I mean when I say that a lot of us don't know what we're talking about when we say what we say.
I became so fed up with these little things that kept building up that I walked away from Christianity all together this summer. I was sick of trying to convince myself that there was a God and that He loves me. I would try so many different techniques-- sometimes blogging about God's love... sometimes writing songs about it...talking about it. But in my heart I had no idea what I was talking about or if it was real. I guess yesterday's blog was just another attempt to convince myself that everything I had ever been taught is true and I don't have to worry about being let down by truths anymore.
Some Christians call this "falling away," whatever that means. I call it thinking for myself for once.
At the beginning of the summer, I had asked my Pre-Calculus teacher what he would do if I emailed him and said I was an agnostic. He said that he would be very sad. I said that I would too, but I couldn't keep living without thinking. I told him I had to come to terms with some of these questions-- the basic questions of Christianity of which I won't go into detail. He said that this is the best news he had ever heard, and he told me that he wanted me to think and consider every different world view and find out what's true. I said thank you and that I would. But then he said something that I have taken to heart. "I do want you to consider everything else out there that offers truth. But first, I want you to start with the character of Jesus Christ of Nazareth. Study him and decide for yourself if this man was who he says He was-- the Son of God, the King of the Jews, the Savior." He didn't say all of this, but he meant it. I said thank you, and that I would do that.
And I have. I've thrown away everything I had ever presumed to be true about God and Jesus and Islam and Evolution and everything else and have started from scratch, searching for truth everywhere.
I'm sure I've confused all of you so far.
I'm just a man who craves a God. And I'm a man who craves love. And it makes me very sad to think that perhaps neither exist. That is what I meant by saying that Evolutionists seem sad. I chose my words poorly. I didn't mean that every evolutionist is sad. But the idea of believing that a God who loves does not exist makes me sad. I should've expressed that clearer. I'm sorry, Erin.
I think I am just very weak. I can't cope with the possibilities of some things being true. If the existence of a God is proven to be false, I do believe that a suicide would be in order, not to be melodramatic. Either that, or I would turn into an absolute rapist or something terrible. There would be nothing holding me together anymore. God is my sanity-- the reason I stay sane. With him out of the picture, there would be no reason to live.
If you are an atheist and you read this and you laugh at me, that's okay. You can laugh. You are stronger than me. You're good at being alone. But I need a God. And considering the pathetic state of mistake-making that I am in, I need some sort of intervening savior to make this relationship with God work out, which is why I need someone like the character of Christ.
I'm in a New Testament class for Religious Studies and we're studying the gospels at the moment. I've never studied the gospels like this. We're studying the emotions behind the book-- why the book was written. What drove these writers to write this gospel.
Mark wrote his gospel to preserve the memory of his best friend Peter, who passed away in Rome during the Christian persecution of A.D. 70. Peter had lost his life for the cause of Jesus' gospel. It was all Peter had, and he couldn't believe anything else. Mark wrote this gospel to remember. To remember Peter and why he is dead.
This is all minor speculation. But most Academic people agree that Mark and Peter were friends when Mark wrote his book.
I'm glad the book of the Bible was more than some Holy Script that this God had plopped onto human kind. No. It was an emotional collection of letters and documents and stories that evolved into one big book.
I have studied the character of Jesus Christ and have fallen in love with Him. I don't know all there is to know yet, but I do know that He was legitimate. At least part of me knows. The other part only hopes that He is who he says he is. I want Him to be, because I'm very scared of the consequences if He's not.
You probably believe me to be a very great baby for not wanting to be left alone without a God to keep Him warm.
That's all I have to say.
I owe my sincerest apologies to anyone who I have offended.
I give my apologies to both of these people and thank them both for showing me my faults.
Yet in my defense, I do think that I have misrepresented myself quite foolishly.
This whole summer I have been mulling through every idea that has ever been presented to me about life through the perspective of Christianity. I have looked at it with a critical eye and have been disgusted about the un-thinking state that some Christians are in--- the state that I am guilty of being in. I've thought about how we all just parrot cute little sayings to each other, convincing ourselves that those sayings are true and that you're a Christian if you say them. Statements like, "The purpose of life is to glorify God!" or "May God bless you" or the whole concept about God saving us by Grace through Faith. First of all, what does it mean to glorify something? Does God need our glory? And what if God doesn't bless us? Who are we to tell God to bless people, anyway? And where exactly does Grace stop and Faith come into play? I could go off onto all sorts of tangents, but I won't. All of those questions may seem very basic, but once you delve in a little further, you'll see what I mean when I say that a lot of us don't know what we're talking about when we say what we say.
I became so fed up with these little things that kept building up that I walked away from Christianity all together this summer. I was sick of trying to convince myself that there was a God and that He loves me. I would try so many different techniques-- sometimes blogging about God's love... sometimes writing songs about it...talking about it. But in my heart I had no idea what I was talking about or if it was real. I guess yesterday's blog was just another attempt to convince myself that everything I had ever been taught is true and I don't have to worry about being let down by truths anymore.
Some Christians call this "falling away," whatever that means. I call it thinking for myself for once.
At the beginning of the summer, I had asked my Pre-Calculus teacher what he would do if I emailed him and said I was an agnostic. He said that he would be very sad. I said that I would too, but I couldn't keep living without thinking. I told him I had to come to terms with some of these questions-- the basic questions of Christianity of which I won't go into detail. He said that this is the best news he had ever heard, and he told me that he wanted me to think and consider every different world view and find out what's true. I said thank you and that I would. But then he said something that I have taken to heart. "I do want you to consider everything else out there that offers truth. But first, I want you to start with the character of Jesus Christ of Nazareth. Study him and decide for yourself if this man was who he says He was-- the Son of God, the King of the Jews, the Savior." He didn't say all of this, but he meant it. I said thank you, and that I would do that.
And I have. I've thrown away everything I had ever presumed to be true about God and Jesus and Islam and Evolution and everything else and have started from scratch, searching for truth everywhere.
I'm sure I've confused all of you so far.
I'm just a man who craves a God. And I'm a man who craves love. And it makes me very sad to think that perhaps neither exist. That is what I meant by saying that Evolutionists seem sad. I chose my words poorly. I didn't mean that every evolutionist is sad. But the idea of believing that a God who loves does not exist makes me sad. I should've expressed that clearer. I'm sorry, Erin.
I think I am just very weak. I can't cope with the possibilities of some things being true. If the existence of a God is proven to be false, I do believe that a suicide would be in order, not to be melodramatic. Either that, or I would turn into an absolute rapist or something terrible. There would be nothing holding me together anymore. God is my sanity-- the reason I stay sane. With him out of the picture, there would be no reason to live.
If you are an atheist and you read this and you laugh at me, that's okay. You can laugh. You are stronger than me. You're good at being alone. But I need a God. And considering the pathetic state of mistake-making that I am in, I need some sort of intervening savior to make this relationship with God work out, which is why I need someone like the character of Christ.
I'm in a New Testament class for Religious Studies and we're studying the gospels at the moment. I've never studied the gospels like this. We're studying the emotions behind the book-- why the book was written. What drove these writers to write this gospel.
Mark wrote his gospel to preserve the memory of his best friend Peter, who passed away in Rome during the Christian persecution of A.D. 70. Peter had lost his life for the cause of Jesus' gospel. It was all Peter had, and he couldn't believe anything else. Mark wrote this gospel to remember. To remember Peter and why he is dead.
This is all minor speculation. But most Academic people agree that Mark and Peter were friends when Mark wrote his book.
I'm glad the book of the Bible was more than some Holy Script that this God had plopped onto human kind. No. It was an emotional collection of letters and documents and stories that evolved into one big book.
I have studied the character of Jesus Christ and have fallen in love with Him. I don't know all there is to know yet, but I do know that He was legitimate. At least part of me knows. The other part only hopes that He is who he says he is. I want Him to be, because I'm very scared of the consequences if He's not.
You probably believe me to be a very great baby for not wanting to be left alone without a God to keep Him warm.
That's all I have to say.
I owe my sincerest apologies to anyone who I have offended.
Saturday, September 25
If I Had A Tail
Sometimes, I wonder why I don't believe in evolution.
In Psychology class, we're studying Developmental Psychology, which is the study of human behavior during different periods of their lives (i.e., how a todler would behave in relation to how an old geizer would). It's quite interesting stuff, except that my professor decided to morph this class into a sex-ed class. I'm not sure why... or how... Perhaps it's been her life goal to teach how sex works to a class of awkwardly quiet freshmen. Who am I to judge...
Anyway, once we got past the awkward stuff, she started showing us pictures of the developmental stages of the fetus in the womb, and I must say I was completely astounded at how alieny and unhuman we look when we first begin to be people. During the very first stages we actually have a tail that looks like the tentacle of an octopus. I felt like I was looking at the image of a very small martian or otherwordly being. But no. That was me. That was everyone. We all start out having tails, and then we develop eyes and a heart, and then a brain, and then fingers and fingernails, and then somewhere along the line we loose the tail and develop a buttox and genetalia instead. It's all very interesting. Very weird, sciency, and evolution-y.
I'm glad I believe in a God. People say that believing in a God is like believing in an imaginary friend, like you're schitzophrenic or something. But, honestly, no matter how pathetic and unlogical it sounds, I'd rather be considered a clinically insane schitzophrenic who talks to someone who's not there, than place a blind hope in the concept of chance and random selection (which usually ends in chaos) as the meaning to this life. Evolutionists seem like such lonely people, with their cold, hard naturalistic approach to everything, unwilling to accept that maybe there is some sort of personal force out there that might love them.
Perhaps I'm just using God as a warm blanket. I hope I'm not. I hope God can be something more than an artificial invention to make lonely people feel less alone. I'm sure He's more than that. All I'm saying is that I'm greatful, I guess, that there IS a God, and that He DOES make us feel less alone, we who believe.
I'm also glad that we lost the tail somewhere along the developmental process. We would look rather ridiculous with dinosaur tails sprouting from our hind ends.
In Psychology class, we're studying Developmental Psychology, which is the study of human behavior during different periods of their lives (i.e., how a todler would behave in relation to how an old geizer would). It's quite interesting stuff, except that my professor decided to morph this class into a sex-ed class. I'm not sure why... or how... Perhaps it's been her life goal to teach how sex works to a class of awkwardly quiet freshmen. Who am I to judge...
Anyway, once we got past the awkward stuff, she started showing us pictures of the developmental stages of the fetus in the womb, and I must say I was completely astounded at how alieny and unhuman we look when we first begin to be people. During the very first stages we actually have a tail that looks like the tentacle of an octopus. I felt like I was looking at the image of a very small martian or otherwordly being. But no. That was me. That was everyone. We all start out having tails, and then we develop eyes and a heart, and then a brain, and then fingers and fingernails, and then somewhere along the line we loose the tail and develop a buttox and genetalia instead. It's all very interesting. Very weird, sciency, and evolution-y.
I'm glad I believe in a God. People say that believing in a God is like believing in an imaginary friend, like you're schitzophrenic or something. But, honestly, no matter how pathetic and unlogical it sounds, I'd rather be considered a clinically insane schitzophrenic who talks to someone who's not there, than place a blind hope in the concept of chance and random selection (which usually ends in chaos) as the meaning to this life. Evolutionists seem like such lonely people, with their cold, hard naturalistic approach to everything, unwilling to accept that maybe there is some sort of personal force out there that might love them.
Perhaps I'm just using God as a warm blanket. I hope I'm not. I hope God can be something more than an artificial invention to make lonely people feel less alone. I'm sure He's more than that. All I'm saying is that I'm greatful, I guess, that there IS a God, and that He DOES make us feel less alone, we who believe.
I'm also glad that we lost the tail somewhere along the developmental process. We would look rather ridiculous with dinosaur tails sprouting from our hind ends.
Wednesday, September 22
Satisfaction?
There are moments in your life when you feel very tired. Not just a physical tired when all you crave is a dark room and a bed. Not even an emotional tired, really, when you feel drained of being happy for people and you crave just a dark room and a movie. It's another tired-- one that sort of festers inside your chest, but you couldn't really point where. It makes you feel dirty inside, like you haven't had a bath all your life and you're not really sure how to bathe anyway. It's the sort of tired where even the beauty of nature and of music and literature and art can't satisfy. You're not in the mood for beauty because you feel bored with it. You crave something new, I guess. Something you haven't seen or heard or smelled or felt before, but you don't know where to look for it. And this overwhelms you, this desire for something ethereal. And it just makes you feel incomplete and, well, tired.
I guess what I'm getting at here is that I've lived my whole life with the desire to be consumed by something. No, my goal in life is not to be fed to lions. Why do you always take me so literally?
I just think that I wait out every day in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, I could come across something so beautiful and so absolutely good that I will be consumed with an awe and love, perhaps, for it. And I will never hunger for anything beautiful or good again, because I have found all I will ever need. I will be made complete by this something, because I won't crave anything else. Does this make sense?
Take a sunset for example. Everyone likes sunsets. Especially the ones over the ocean on the West coast in San Diego or somewhere like that.
What if, one evening, I see a sunset that is so pure and vivid and incredibly powerful and colorful that I am absolutely consumed with awe and wonder and absolute appreciation for its beauty. I am so consumed with this beauty that I could go the rest of my life with its image imprinted in my head, never having to see another sunset ever again, because I am satisfied. Completely satisfied.
I would be a very different person, wouldn't I? I would be the only one on the planet who is completely satisfied, never searching for anything outside of himself, like a sunset or a waterfall, to make him complete.
I think this is why the Double Rainbow guy is so popular. He is the rare individual who stumbles upon the indescribable beauty of this earth expressed in a double complete rainbow across the sky. And for a segment of about five minutes which is caught on video camera, he is completely taken aback with awe and immense appreciation for this beauty, to the point of laughter and tears and screaming. And for those five minutes, he seems to be the only person on the face of the earth who is actually satisfied, as if he will never hunger for anything else ever again. And the public wants this. We want to be satisfied with something, be it a rainbow or a sunset or a girlfriend or wife or food or money or nostalgia or the little things in life like umbrellas. We want to find something that satisfied, but we can never do it. We always are craving more. And this makes us tired.
I doubt whether the double rainbow guy will be satisfied for long. He seemed immensely satisfied, for those five minutes. But I'm sure that hairy, tubby hippy will some day get the urge to perhaps see another rainbow, or to see a pretty girl, or a sunset, or something beautiful. Even he, the double rainbow guy, is not complete.
And this is what makes me tired. I crave something, but can never have it. I want to be satisfied, but I never am.
And I believe this is an incurable disease that I will live with until I die.
But afterwards?
:)
I guess what I'm getting at here is that I've lived my whole life with the desire to be consumed by something. No, my goal in life is not to be fed to lions. Why do you always take me so literally?
I just think that I wait out every day in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, I could come across something so beautiful and so absolutely good that I will be consumed with an awe and love, perhaps, for it. And I will never hunger for anything beautiful or good again, because I have found all I will ever need. I will be made complete by this something, because I won't crave anything else. Does this make sense?
Take a sunset for example. Everyone likes sunsets. Especially the ones over the ocean on the West coast in San Diego or somewhere like that.
What if, one evening, I see a sunset that is so pure and vivid and incredibly powerful and colorful that I am absolutely consumed with awe and wonder and absolute appreciation for its beauty. I am so consumed with this beauty that I could go the rest of my life with its image imprinted in my head, never having to see another sunset ever again, because I am satisfied. Completely satisfied.
I would be a very different person, wouldn't I? I would be the only one on the planet who is completely satisfied, never searching for anything outside of himself, like a sunset or a waterfall, to make him complete.
I think this is why the Double Rainbow guy is so popular. He is the rare individual who stumbles upon the indescribable beauty of this earth expressed in a double complete rainbow across the sky. And for a segment of about five minutes which is caught on video camera, he is completely taken aback with awe and immense appreciation for this beauty, to the point of laughter and tears and screaming. And for those five minutes, he seems to be the only person on the face of the earth who is actually satisfied, as if he will never hunger for anything else ever again. And the public wants this. We want to be satisfied with something, be it a rainbow or a sunset or a girlfriend or wife or food or money or nostalgia or the little things in life like umbrellas. We want to find something that satisfied, but we can never do it. We always are craving more. And this makes us tired.
I doubt whether the double rainbow guy will be satisfied for long. He seemed immensely satisfied, for those five minutes. But I'm sure that hairy, tubby hippy will some day get the urge to perhaps see another rainbow, or to see a pretty girl, or a sunset, or something beautiful. Even he, the double rainbow guy, is not complete.
And this is what makes me tired. I crave something, but can never have it. I want to be satisfied, but I never am.
And I believe this is an incurable disease that I will live with until I die.
But afterwards?
:)
Sunday, September 12
The way things Ought to Be
This weekend, I went with some friends to a lake somewhere in Kentucky. I honestly don't know where it is, even though I drove there. But I can tell you that it was one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. A grassy slope, continuing almost forever downward, falling into a great green lake that expands left and right and forwards until it meets the opposite bank, lined with trees on the verge of changing into its fall colors. All of this, under an overcast sky with the sun barely shining through, casting small slivers of light onto the water and grass.
And now I will stop trying to be like William Wordsworth and get on with this here blog thing.
As I sat on the top of that hill, staring at the water far below, with a light breeze on my face, collecting grass stains on my bottom, I couldn't help but start thinking about my life and all the quirks and funny business that is inside it. Beautiful places like this tend to do this to people... make them think.
I started to think about the things in this life that I love. Family... friends... mexican food... etc. and then I began wondering what exactly this love thing was, and where it came from. Was love just a strange invention made by some greek Philosopher back when everyone wore blankets for clothes? Is it just a tradition to say "I love you" to people who make you feel special inside? or is it just a game we all play, tossing the word Love around like a ball to whomever and whatever we please, regardless of how meaningful or trivial the object that our love-ball is tossed towards?
I wish I could answer all those questions. I can only hope that Love is more than a ball or a tradition or an invention. I hope that love is more of a lifestyle, perhaps of selflessness or something noble like that.
I don't think Love is something you can find in the dictionary. I'm sure that if you looked in one, you would find the noun or the verb followed by a few phrases describing with other words what that word means. But that is simply useless, and not to mention boring.
I think that Love is something that you have to find outside of the dictionary-- a very very undefinable word. It's something that one must be patient to experience. It's not some theoretical equation that we would find in a math book.
But I also think that love is a choice, not just some inanimate butterfly that we hope will land on our hearts. Love, whatever it is, is a decision--a choice-- an action. You know what I mean...
Anyway... yeah. Love.
So despite my very poor attempt at defining Love, i then pondered at what things in this life I do love.
In this life, there are two categories for reality: the way things are, and the way things should be.
As far as loving things, I think that this principal applies.
I think the things that I love and the things that I ought to love are two different categories.
I love my family and I love music. I love God, I guess you would say, even though I don't exactly know that much about Him. And, regrettably, I love myself more than any of those.
If I were to make a list of the things I love in descending order, it would be:
1. Myself
2. My family
3. Music
and coming in a close 4th is, embarrassingly enough, God.
As far as music goes, I have just recently realized how useless it would be to Love it. If one thinks about it rationally, Music can never love you back. In fact, it can never be conscious of your love for it. Music itself is not a living thing. It is a pencil and paper. it is a canvas and paint. It is a create-able, moldable, recyclable, intangible substance that can never feel the emotion and gravity of Love.
So why would I love this more than God? Why would I love anything more than God? The personable One who created me with my quirky DNA, who knows me better than my family, or even myself. Why would I love anything more than God?
I don't know... because I'm selfish. Because I am a very Visual being and can only love the person that's right in front of me and not some invisible God.
And as for what I ought to love...
I honestly do think that loving God should be the most important thing. I don't know what that looks like, or what it even means to love God, or who this God really is that i'm loving. But I do know, in my heart somewhere, that this is a very important thing to do.
After that should probably come my family. And then everyone else in the world? I'm not quite sure how that works.
I can't wait to go back to that lake.
And now I will stop trying to be like William Wordsworth and get on with this here blog thing.
As I sat on the top of that hill, staring at the water far below, with a light breeze on my face, collecting grass stains on my bottom, I couldn't help but start thinking about my life and all the quirks and funny business that is inside it. Beautiful places like this tend to do this to people... make them think.
I started to think about the things in this life that I love. Family... friends... mexican food... etc. and then I began wondering what exactly this love thing was, and where it came from. Was love just a strange invention made by some greek Philosopher back when everyone wore blankets for clothes? Is it just a tradition to say "I love you" to people who make you feel special inside? or is it just a game we all play, tossing the word Love around like a ball to whomever and whatever we please, regardless of how meaningful or trivial the object that our love-ball is tossed towards?
I wish I could answer all those questions. I can only hope that Love is more than a ball or a tradition or an invention. I hope that love is more of a lifestyle, perhaps of selflessness or something noble like that.
I don't think Love is something you can find in the dictionary. I'm sure that if you looked in one, you would find the noun or the verb followed by a few phrases describing with other words what that word means. But that is simply useless, and not to mention boring.
I think that Love is something that you have to find outside of the dictionary-- a very very undefinable word. It's something that one must be patient to experience. It's not some theoretical equation that we would find in a math book.
But I also think that love is a choice, not just some inanimate butterfly that we hope will land on our hearts. Love, whatever it is, is a decision--a choice-- an action. You know what I mean...
Anyway... yeah. Love.
So despite my very poor attempt at defining Love, i then pondered at what things in this life I do love.
In this life, there are two categories for reality: the way things are, and the way things should be.
As far as loving things, I think that this principal applies.
I think the things that I love and the things that I ought to love are two different categories.
I love my family and I love music. I love God, I guess you would say, even though I don't exactly know that much about Him. And, regrettably, I love myself more than any of those.
If I were to make a list of the things I love in descending order, it would be:
1. Myself
2. My family
3. Music
and coming in a close 4th is, embarrassingly enough, God.
As far as music goes, I have just recently realized how useless it would be to Love it. If one thinks about it rationally, Music can never love you back. In fact, it can never be conscious of your love for it. Music itself is not a living thing. It is a pencil and paper. it is a canvas and paint. It is a create-able, moldable, recyclable, intangible substance that can never feel the emotion and gravity of Love.
So why would I love this more than God? Why would I love anything more than God? The personable One who created me with my quirky DNA, who knows me better than my family, or even myself. Why would I love anything more than God?
I don't know... because I'm selfish. Because I am a very Visual being and can only love the person that's right in front of me and not some invisible God.
And as for what I ought to love...
I honestly do think that loving God should be the most important thing. I don't know what that looks like, or what it even means to love God, or who this God really is that i'm loving. But I do know, in my heart somewhere, that this is a very important thing to do.
After that should probably come my family. And then everyone else in the world? I'm not quite sure how that works.
I can't wait to go back to that lake.
Friday, September 10
The Dilemma
The name of this whole blog is "So How's College Life?" and so far I have failed to say anything about life or college or how exactly it is. I'm quite embarrassed by my lack of commitment to anything, whether it be blogs or music or homework or dirty dishes or romances or friendships. I think this is the real dilemma of the human condition-- not quite a heart that is malicious and hateful and evil (though those do exist all over the world), but the passive heart who is too comfortable with his head in a pillow to get up and do anything great; the heart that has the potential to write plays and symphonies and poems and books and paint and design and interact with other human beings and laugh and be wise and full of love. That heart is too busy twiddling its thumbs on facebook and youtube and wimp videos to measure up to its own potential. This is mankind's dilemma-- this is the tragedy of the human heart.
And the greatest tragedy of it all is that we (at least I) are completely comfortable with the grass we have, realizing that it might be greener on the other side, but are too passive to reach for it.
All this to say, I'm sorry for my identity as the luke-warm, passive what's-his-face. I hope you're smiling, or at least content on the inside. I will tell you more later about my new life as a student.
Goodbye.
Isaac
And the greatest tragedy of it all is that we (at least I) are completely comfortable with the grass we have, realizing that it might be greener on the other side, but are too passive to reach for it.
All this to say, I'm sorry for my identity as the luke-warm, passive what's-his-face. I hope you're smiling, or at least content on the inside. I will tell you more later about my new life as a student.
Goodbye.
Isaac
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