Monday, March 16, 2009
I am aware that one of my biggest flaws is that I give up. And quite easily at that. Flaw is a bit of a loaded word, it implies that this travesty has been thrust upon me, the helpless victim. I am almost definately sure that I brought this on myself. I am a big thinker and an even bigger dreamer, I'm the idealist, and ideally I need a realist next to me at all times to keep my feet on the ground. This is tricky because I feel that God lets me dream and breathe and throw out preposterous plans, but I also believe he holds me to the practice and working out of a sustainable life for me and mostly for those around me. I do this alot with what God gives, I take what I can use to suit my personality and draw conclusive Godly character traits out of them - because after all aren't we made in the image of God?
I am learning balance. I am learning that with every bit of give there is a little bit of take. No exceptions. Dont mislead my thought process here, I do believe in miracles and God's gifted grace - but that too came at a cost, the greatest cost you could actually wage on a dream. Your very life and breath.
I recently heard this wonderful analogy. That all of our lives are all stories. And we tell people our stories, we live and dance and scream and cry and run and fall and achieve and tell people our stories through everything but, what we have rehearsed or a well written eulogy at the end of our story. And the clincher for me was in this bloke's opinion, the greatest stories are those that have the greatest element of risk inherent in them. I tend to agree. So then the greatest risk being? Putting one's life on the line for another. This is no new story but one rooted in the Bible. And this isn't some subversive attempt to try and convert you so much as it is my alignment with what has been dubbed the greatest story ever told.
But i am still getting there. You see, i want that to be my life. But I'm not there yet. Most of my plans involve me marrying a gorgeous brunette girl and living off the coast of a Greek island all the while having inherited my father's fortune and spending my days fixing up yachts, and when not fixing up the yachts, then getting fixed up on my yacht with said gorgeous brunette girl - if you see what I did there.
The problem with that little scenario is that in a world of over 6 billion people, I have made my life expressly about one other person, and perhaps about helping out some rich people continue to live out their sordid nautical existence's. Now, I still would love to work in a dry dock one day - but I need something more - something bigger, something that will cost me a little more.
I had a little chat with my housemate today. He told me off again because most of the time I'm talking about girls. Girls are alright apparently but not worth talking about for 90% of the time - at least not in the romantic sense. And he's basically getting tired of my whining. I like that, i like it because it means i can get out of my head. i live inside the inside of my mind, but now i can, to quote the glorious techno-pop excellency of FURTHERMORE, 'i can do two things at a time, step out of line - step outside the inside of my mind.'
It's been a couple months since the last time I sat down to write and every time I turn around and start again I get a little better and a little tougher. Soon I will have the resolve not to give up at all and just endure.
Thats where my head has been lately, my body has been there all along except it got caught up watching the live FALL OUT BOY DVD and having my 22nd birthday and going to an excellent wedding of acquaintances and moving houses and going to birthday parties and writing senior year papers of subjects I'm still not even sure i understand.
I have a new impetus now. i will endeavor (as i have before) to write a little more often. But that impetus also falls under new motive. I used to write with a specific person or group of people in mind - now not so much. Okay maybe i might reflect on an event involving specific humans, but largely i want to write for the sake of reflection, so I can look back in a couple months and years time and see just how far I've come - or not at all. Because it will be absolutely and utterly ridiculous if in a couple years, or even months for that matter - if I am still whining about which girl did what to who and how-come it was her who didn't know who did what with who.