December 25, 2006

  • i feel like the real me is stuck inside and i can’t get it out. and the problem is, the outside me doesn’t even know the inside me very well. i can’t predict it. i can’t control it. i can’t protect myself when it acts stupid or dumb. i can’t control my outside self when others notice my inconsistencies.

    who i am is me. the outside me too. the spiritual me, the deep me, the thoughtful, quiet person–that is all me. and yet when i am shallow and loud i feel like i am betraying that part of me somehow. then i wonder which part was real. why does either have to be fake? what if my moments of indiscretion are really the moments i am really living? what if the rest is fake? those times where people say “you must have been insane” are those the times i actually let my guard down? or is the sensible, as well as the crazy person, all me.

    perhaps our mistakes reveal more of us than we think. perhaps they are not mistakes at all but when we see our true selves. but then again–what about our moments of greatness, of sacrificial giving…are those the moments of our true selves? and where do we go around judging ourselves and deciding who we are anyways? isn’t it the “blind self” the part of us that others can see and we can’t, rather big? and yet there is always a “hidden self” that we know about and others don’t–even when we do try to explain. the part of our heart that will always feel lonely, and many times, is a lovely loneliness that makes me feel sane. if there was no me that was only known to just me i fear i would melt into the crowd of people walking down the street and be lost completely.

    but all my philosophy does me no good in solving my feelings or the feelings of anyone else. reality says it is just one more distraction to put of discovering change one more day. but i don’t want distraction–i want to run into life like a truck going 60. at the moment.  

    Christmas always fills me with Saudades…the melancholy word that will never be rightly, fully translated into English and that is why i love it–why i can claim it for any indescribable emotion pulsing through me. i feel quiet. i feel the world swirl around me. i feel like kissing the world on the cheek and then forgetting about it forever. like all is right with everything and so we can now become floating drops in the sea of eternity. until the next moment.

    is it possible to have a Christmas without getting into an argument with someone? not that i argued much or my feelings were hurt much…but man…100% of the time SOMETHING has to happen on a holiday. bet money.

    presents are lovely. extra time where you CANNOT feel guilty about wasting it is lovelier still. and knowing what to do with yourself would be the loveliest of all. something about Christmas makes me feel lost. like i don’t know what to do with myself. one moment i want to do a million things, the next i am looking at the clock realizing the day is gone and i want nothing more than warm slippers.

    The best moment of the day was when my father wrote a check…for the kids in Paudalho, Brasil. it made me feel like there was a reason for existence. for living in rich old USA. for working and the whole materialistic system we stare down daily–to give. to be able to give. it truly is a gift. and you must be gifted to do it.

    i went to my favorite spot recently. where in the past i’d felt God so clearly. where two years ago i’d asked God if i was doing His will for me, and if being in the US for 6 months and Brasil for 6 months was good–best. and if it were my last year alive, if that would be the best way to use my time. i clearly felt Him say yes. i wanted that again. i asked the same question. and heard the creek, felt the wind, saw the stars…but no answer. i felt another desire sneak up on me. not to hear God. not to know His will for me. not to see my future clearly…but to just have Him.

    that is better than an answer.
    but why does my desire fly away so quickly? why is it so weak and flimsy. sometimes i am so disgusted with it’s shallowness that i hate it. sometimes i just don’t care.

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