Things That Are
I cannot tell you how many times I clog my own brain with distractions and noises and tasks and diversions and more. I wanted to write a story, but I'm all clogged up in the business. Thus, I am here trying to drain el brain.
Plus, I haven't been reading much lately. I finished the novel I was reading, and I haven't snagged a new one yet. I kinda forgot about libraries. They totally exist, and they're totally full of books. What should I read though?
I recently saw Hamilton, the musical about Alexander Hamilton. It was definitely embellished, but it still made me want to know more history. Recalling high school, I don't even know how to express how dull history classes were. I know how to spell K-Y-R-G-Y-Z-stan, which is part of TUK and TAP (Turkmenistan/Uzbekistan/Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan/Afghanistan/Pakistan). I also know that Senegal and Gambia are near each other.
Since Hamilton, I now know that Hamilton had some rivalries — notably one with Thomas Jefferson. Hamilton wrote endlessly and put some energy into early drafts of a constitution. I now know that King George was reigning when America split.
Since it was a musical, I only caught bits and pieces — especially because I am unfamiliar with the history, but that's my point: I now want to know more!
I will never stop quoting Einstein: "It is a miracle that curiosity survives formal education."
Some day, when I stop constipating myself emotionally, I'm going to read so many bloody books — about history even. After Hamilton, I had this faint desire to read a biography about each of our presidents — or each up until a certain point. I might read the first 20 or so. As I take a glance across the list, I might read the first 15 or so.
Current events are bonkers, man: positively bonkers. I'm not even going there. That's why I make comics.
DUDE, I'm sitting in Starbucks. They regulate their temperatures like buffoons, but there's something strangely nice about feeling toasty in jeans and a t-shirt while sipping iced tea. I'd be equally cozy if I were sipping hot tea while sitting in a sweater and scarf, but I like the things.
DUDE! Last night, it struck me vividly how much I distract myself inside my brain. More specifically, I like to fret. I like to fret a lot. I regret the past. I fear the future.
There are such things as plans and planning ahead, but plans are different than fears. Fears accomplish nothing, prepare nothing, help nothing. For a moment, I forced myself to be in the moment, and I started thanking God for everything. It felt trite, but it wasn't trite. I really am thankful for my healthy teeth. I really am thankful for fun shower curtains. I'm thankful for warm water. I'm thankful for my hands that can craft and type. I'm thankful for tea. I'm thankful for neighbors and friends. I'm thankful for food. I'm thankful for sunlight! I'm thankful for shoes. I'm thankful for my car that still runs. I'm thankful for a bed in which to sleep. I'm thankful for cool breezes that breathe by occasionally. I'm thankful for the kind people who work at Starbucks. I'm thankful for quiet music. I'm thankful for my computer.
It goes on, but last night was a crazy contrast. I had been stressing about everything I could find, and I forced myself into the now, and everything was thankfulness. I should do it more often!
In general, however, I often spaz myself out of the present and find nonexistent things to fear. Thus, I distract myself. I distract myself doubly because I'm not even fearing things that are or will be — but only things that could be but probably won't be. A few real fears pepper themselves into my brain, but it's the fake ones that are CRAZY. They don't exist; they have no traction, no place to be put, so they spin out of control until I disengage that craziness or until I freak out and make dumb choices!
I had another weird realization: God is outside of time, but I am inside time. I am only in my present moment, so the only place I can meet God is in the present moment. I can't meet him in the past nor in the future — but only in the present. Even if I am seeking God, I can only seek Him now. Once I step into the past or the future, I step where I don't exist.
It's a new notion, so I don't have clear words for it or clear thoughts about it, but I am comfortable concluding that I will be better off living, acting, thinking, feeling, fearing, breathing, hoping, dreaming in the present.
Plus, I haven't been reading much lately. I finished the novel I was reading, and I haven't snagged a new one yet. I kinda forgot about libraries. They totally exist, and they're totally full of books. What should I read though?
I recently saw Hamilton, the musical about Alexander Hamilton. It was definitely embellished, but it still made me want to know more history. Recalling high school, I don't even know how to express how dull history classes were. I know how to spell K-Y-R-G-Y-Z-stan, which is part of TUK and TAP (Turkmenistan/Uzbekistan/Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan/Afghanistan/Pakistan). I also know that Senegal and Gambia are near each other.
Since Hamilton, I now know that Hamilton had some rivalries — notably one with Thomas Jefferson. Hamilton wrote endlessly and put some energy into early drafts of a constitution. I now know that King George was reigning when America split.
Since it was a musical, I only caught bits and pieces — especially because I am unfamiliar with the history, but that's my point: I now want to know more!
I will never stop quoting Einstein: "It is a miracle that curiosity survives formal education."
Some day, when I stop constipating myself emotionally, I'm going to read so many bloody books — about history even. After Hamilton, I had this faint desire to read a biography about each of our presidents — or each up until a certain point. I might read the first 20 or so. As I take a glance across the list, I might read the first 15 or so.
Current events are bonkers, man: positively bonkers. I'm not even going there. That's why I make comics.
DUDE, I'm sitting in Starbucks. They regulate their temperatures like buffoons, but there's something strangely nice about feeling toasty in jeans and a t-shirt while sipping iced tea. I'd be equally cozy if I were sipping hot tea while sitting in a sweater and scarf, but I like the things.
DUDE! Last night, it struck me vividly how much I distract myself inside my brain. More specifically, I like to fret. I like to fret a lot. I regret the past. I fear the future.
There are such things as plans and planning ahead, but plans are different than fears. Fears accomplish nothing, prepare nothing, help nothing. For a moment, I forced myself to be in the moment, and I started thanking God for everything. It felt trite, but it wasn't trite. I really am thankful for my healthy teeth. I really am thankful for fun shower curtains. I'm thankful for warm water. I'm thankful for my hands that can craft and type. I'm thankful for tea. I'm thankful for neighbors and friends. I'm thankful for food. I'm thankful for sunlight! I'm thankful for shoes. I'm thankful for my car that still runs. I'm thankful for a bed in which to sleep. I'm thankful for cool breezes that breathe by occasionally. I'm thankful for the kind people who work at Starbucks. I'm thankful for quiet music. I'm thankful for my computer.
It goes on, but last night was a crazy contrast. I had been stressing about everything I could find, and I forced myself into the now, and everything was thankfulness. I should do it more often!
In general, however, I often spaz myself out of the present and find nonexistent things to fear. Thus, I distract myself. I distract myself doubly because I'm not even fearing things that are or will be — but only things that could be but probably won't be. A few real fears pepper themselves into my brain, but it's the fake ones that are CRAZY. They don't exist; they have no traction, no place to be put, so they spin out of control until I disengage that craziness or until I freak out and make dumb choices!
I had another weird realization: God is outside of time, but I am inside time. I am only in my present moment, so the only place I can meet God is in the present moment. I can't meet him in the past nor in the future — but only in the present. Even if I am seeking God, I can only seek Him now. Once I step into the past or the future, I step where I don't exist.
It's a new notion, so I don't have clear words for it or clear thoughts about it, but I am comfortable concluding that I will be better off living, acting, thinking, feeling, fearing, breathing, hoping, dreaming in the present.
DUDE, you saw Hamilton?! I’m so jealous. This year I discovered that Hamilton was raised by a single mom who fled an abusive husband. I read about her in Janine Turner’s book, “Holding Her Head High: 12 Single Mothers Who Championed Their Children and Changed History.” How inspirational that even single moms with all the cards stacked against them can still change the world!
ReplyDeleteI totally agree that, ironically, our current mainstream educational system squelches the love of learning. I, too, remember history classes being dreadfully dull. I can’t understate the contrast it has been to revisit history through homeschooling, primarily through biographies and living books. I now have an appreciation for history that I completely lacked while in school. Interestingly—I never would have predicted this one—my son’s favorite subject is history!
“The only place I can meet God is in the present moment.” This is such a profound statement! I’m going to see if I can dig up a powerful quote I once heard on that topic, and if I find it, I’ll post another comment. It centered on the fact that God’s most holy name is “I AM,” not “I WAS,” and not “I WILL BE.” Yes, I think you’ve touched on holy ground here. Not only is the present the only place that we can meet God; it is also the place that God has chosen to meet us, revealing Himself to us by His covenant name that we might know Him.
Oops! I should have said, "I can't OVERstate the contrast..." It would be pretty easy to UNDERstate it, hahaha! That's what I get for commenting on blog posts late at night after jam-packed busy days!
DeleteI found the quote (thanks to Pastor John)! It's from a poem by Helen Mallicoat entitled "I AM":
Deletehttp://www.philipchircop.com/post/96814778697/my-name-is-i-am-taken-from-listen-for-the-lord-by
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8b2CcYe3BSc
I am struck by the uncanny echo of your tagline for "The Read Wolph Readings": "Though we regret the past and fear the future, we act today." Had you ever heard this poem before? In any case, may we meet with God in the present moment and live in the power of His Holy Spirit today!
I had never heard of that before!
DeleteThe tagline for The Red Wolph Readings comes from Meadowvale, specifically their mantra:
Though the day breaks with heavy hearts,
No heart is broken in vain.
Though a sword is at our door,
A sword is also in our hand.
Though we regret the past and fear the future,
We act today.
Though we may not taste it today,
Our children will drink freedom tomorrow.
Though tomorrow is shrouded,
Our loyalty shines bright.
Though darkness creeps over our land,
One candle will cast it out.
Though we may die,
Truth will live.
Though it may be costly,
Good will overcome!
That's such an inspirational mantra! Love it.
DeleteWhat should you read? Have you ever read "Atlas Shrugged," perchance? That's the next one on my audiobook queue, and I'll be looking for a book buddy to discuss it with.
ReplyDelete