Hm. Ever experienced one of those moments where you seem to be thoughtful, but there's nothing on your mind? This, I fear, is one of those moments. I guess this has to be due to me having millions of things to think about these past couple of weeks. My brain just doesn't feel like concentrating on anything at the moment, so it just pretends. Weird.
Anyway, just thought I'd share a random thought.
Signing off,
Elise
Friday, January 29, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Part of today's second reading.
There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but the same God works all of them in all men.
(1 Corinthians: 4-6)
To be honest, I was happily astonished to find this written in the Bible. I believe this applies to all religions, really; not just the Jewish, Muslim, Christian and other monotheistic faiths out there. We are all one.
A fascinating thought. (And yes, with a hippie-ish tinge to it, I might add. ;-))
Signing off,
Elise
Saturday, January 16, 2010
A new year, a new decade, a new era -- and a new haircut.
This past decade has seen me grow a lot as a person. God has granted me so many experiences over the years, experiences that have made me change my perception of so many things. All kinds of aspects in life, really. There is one particular episode that stands out which really made me come face to face with the fleeting nature of life itself. It has definitely made me see things from another perspective and made me closer to God. I have also realized that as a Catholic I am not alone. I mean, really realized. And it's a good feeling. Singularity can be fulfilling in many respects -- it can make you grow as a human -- but man is also a sociable creature and most of us would go nuts if we were to be cut off from society indefinitely.
I have also experienced the fleeting nature of human relationships, be it friendships or more intimate relationships. This entails not only me experiencing this myself, but also observing the people around me and their individual trials and tribulations. That in itself is a great experience. I find myself agreeing somewhat with Mary Bennet here when she says (something like the following): "I find that the rewards of observation and reflection are much greater [than dancing in a ball]." Nonetheless, dancing is great fun as well as observing. All depending on my mood, that is.
I also remember realizing at one point that I am much like cats in my personality. Many times I have caught myself in the act of getting tired of doing something, even after just 10-15 minutes. Even when playing with kids I find I lack patience (although I love 'em -- the things they say and the way they think!). I may also get a sudden urge to blog, and then after a couple of minutes, suddenly that urge is gone and I can't be "bovvered" (as a very wise teenager used to say). But generally I find myself committed to most of the goals that I've set for myself. I dare say the most important things regarding my future, my life and the most important people in it are those parts that I commit to 100%. Of course there may be some slight hiccups here and there, but the willingness is, has been and always will be there. This alongside the tendency to contemplate.
And then there's the fun factor. Life is, as we all know, not a cakewalk, but just add a bit of spice and/or sugar, and you get a whole different experience of it all. It sort of lets you dance through it (something Pete Townshend once said when referring to music). But dancing through life hinders you from seeing your surroundings in their entirety, which we need to do increasingly more as we grow up. This is the time when we slowly begin to peer out of that bubble that used to protect us and start seeing that things are in fact not as they seem. In fact, we start seeing the complexity of truth and we start wondering what this implies to our own perception of the world. What is truth? Does it exist at all?
This realization in reaction to our bubble bursting makes us want to create our own lines of defense. A wall. Even though we are surrounded by people all the time, ultimately life has to be lived only by ourselves. So we build a wall to protect ourselves from the harsh environment. A wall influenced by our experience. A wall with a kind of filtrating system where we let only certain things and a certain amount of them to enter into our lives. As we gain more knowledge we decide whether or not to fill those holes in our wall. A fascinating process, I have to say -- although many times quite frustrating and annoying. Still, as I said earlier, life is not a cakewalk. It never was. But we have our guides and a hope and a conviction that in the end all will sort itself out.
Hm. I don't know if this makes sense. At least it makes sense to me. It might to some other people as well.
In other news, I want a white room such as this when I get my own place. And if I end up living in a mansion, I want another room filled with pianos, including a white one -- and another one with cow spots on it. Just a thought.
I have also experienced the fleeting nature of human relationships, be it friendships or more intimate relationships. This entails not only me experiencing this myself, but also observing the people around me and their individual trials and tribulations. That in itself is a great experience. I find myself agreeing somewhat with Mary Bennet here when she says (something like the following): "I find that the rewards of observation and reflection are much greater [than dancing in a ball]." Nonetheless, dancing is great fun as well as observing. All depending on my mood, that is.
I also remember realizing at one point that I am much like cats in my personality. Many times I have caught myself in the act of getting tired of doing something, even after just 10-15 minutes. Even when playing with kids I find I lack patience (although I love 'em -- the things they say and the way they think!). I may also get a sudden urge to blog, and then after a couple of minutes, suddenly that urge is gone and I can't be "bovvered" (as a very wise teenager used to say). But generally I find myself committed to most of the goals that I've set for myself. I dare say the most important things regarding my future, my life and the most important people in it are those parts that I commit to 100%. Of course there may be some slight hiccups here and there, but the willingness is, has been and always will be there. This alongside the tendency to contemplate.
And then there's the fun factor. Life is, as we all know, not a cakewalk, but just add a bit of spice and/or sugar, and you get a whole different experience of it all. It sort of lets you dance through it (something Pete Townshend once said when referring to music). But dancing through life hinders you from seeing your surroundings in their entirety, which we need to do increasingly more as we grow up. This is the time when we slowly begin to peer out of that bubble that used to protect us and start seeing that things are in fact not as they seem. In fact, we start seeing the complexity of truth and we start wondering what this implies to our own perception of the world. What is truth? Does it exist at all?
This realization in reaction to our bubble bursting makes us want to create our own lines of defense. A wall. Even though we are surrounded by people all the time, ultimately life has to be lived only by ourselves. So we build a wall to protect ourselves from the harsh environment. A wall influenced by our experience. A wall with a kind of filtrating system where we let only certain things and a certain amount of them to enter into our lives. As we gain more knowledge we decide whether or not to fill those holes in our wall. A fascinating process, I have to say -- although many times quite frustrating and annoying. Still, as I said earlier, life is not a cakewalk. It never was. But we have our guides and a hope and a conviction that in the end all will sort itself out.
Hm. I don't know if this makes sense. At least it makes sense to me. It might to some other people as well.
In other news, I want a white room such as this when I get my own place. And if I end up living in a mansion, I want another room filled with pianos, including a white one -- and another one with cow spots on it. Just a thought.
Signing off (hopeful),
Elise
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