Heart strings

There is something there…an intangible string tied to you and me. Who are you? What is this all about? What do I do with this string around my heart? When you aren’t near a very thin thread is tied there, as if I’m not to forget. But to remember what? Who are you, and what purpose is this? This string looks too fragile to tug on, so I’ll let it remain until it is no more. But until then I will carry this remember-ance string with me just in case you are sad or afraid.  Maybe then with open hands can I say, “hi friend”. And just maybe then there will be a slight tug, not from these hands, but another. So you will taste sweet Love because there is no other. How do you untie what was not tied by human hands. Yet how do you be tied to another? With open hands, it’s gotta be the only way.  Who are you? What is behind the facade? But here I go tugging on the fragile string. Maybe I’d do better to watch with open hands.

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7 years

(warning: brain dump)

I used to think Chai Tea Latte’s to be disgusting.  Now I love them, and actually they are my preferred drink at the coffee shop up the road.  A biology major once told me that every seven years we acquire new taste buds.  Which could very well explain why some things we disliked as a child but love to eat as an adult.  I’m sure we have to get over the mental block telling us not to attempt to eat something we once found gross.

I think I’m starting to understand a bit more about how I tick.  Or maybe I’m just seeing right now how I perceive and thrive.  I can’t look back and say how I am now is how I’ve always been.  And I’ve always been one to get frustrated with, yet love personality tests all at the same time.  Oh yea, I remember scoring pretty down the middle on some of those what side of the brain do you use most tests and a few personality quizzes.

Right now I can’t help but wonder if my perceptive and relational taste buds are going through some change.  I need to be around others to feel I have purpose. And I need physical affection. I just don’t want that hug, I need it.  Oh, you need to get past me so you put your hand on my back to let me know you are coming around me…I don’t mind, in fact I just felt valued.  You are hurting? Well I cant fix you like I use to try but I know I can be as present with you as possible. I need to be seen for who I am. I need affirmation because I’m definitely my worst critic. I goofed again, I need grace after I admit I’m wrong. Because dissension breaks my heart. I need to be around others so I don’t get down, but when it’s been a long day I need you to let me unplug in silence.

I don’t feel like I’m the same as I was 5 years ago.  I’ve shed some believes about some things and I’ve gained new ones. I keep evolving through each lesson I learn and through the interactions with God, people, and things around me. But I am who I am. I was built a certain way and that doesn’t change too drastically. But my awareness of who I am seems to change quite a bit.  Or maybe it is just that I’m shedding those barriers that keep me from being me.

I saw someone write the other day.  “I am who I am, if you don’t like it, too bad”. Bold statement. But can that be backed up. Or is it just a barrier to hide behind while no one sees the true you?

Im a work in progress. A person on a journey. One with a story. I’m a living being evolving and transforming.

Dearest freshness

God’s Granduer
Gerard Manley Hopkins
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
I remember reading this and dissecting it in high school English class.  I remember the first time my very eccentric, confident, encouraging teacher read it to the class. I loved it. I just wanted to hear it read aloud again and once more. There is a stability in its words I need to be reminded of, a sacredness I need to drink from every so often to refresh my soul.
I just stumbled upon Hopkins’ words tonight while reading something else. However I found something I think I was looking for.

Open box and out pops…

I was talking with someone the other day about how I always say I will update and write, but in reality I start and shortly my writing fizzles.  An open 2-liter soda would keep its fiz longer than this blog’s vision did.  Why? Well I think the motivation of framing this blog was for me to have space where I could have “room to breathe”. A blank sheet to write some of my honest thoughts and experiences outside of a box in which nothing out of the ordinary, expected, or of differing opinion could be shared.  So really other blogs I had attempted where more confining than what I was truly craving.  I was thinking this was because of who I invited to read. Which might be a piece of the truth, but certainly a small piece.

I was in need of breaking out of the box.

Wait…did I just use past tense? Oh yea…

I AM in need of breaking out of the box.

It’s nice to get a taste of something refreshing. To see a perspective you didn’t even know you were craving, all you could see was your perspective all the while thinking ‘there has to be more’.

So really it was my expectations that caused the seed of the vision I had for this blog to not sprout. So let’s see what happens now…

i feel a push to write, a nudging within. So maybe I can let it be that for a while, just a nudge. Then just maybe it will grow into something alive.