Humanity

I think that something we miss in our mortal existence is the endless variety that is humanity. We miss the smallest variations, the different quirks in their smiles, and how no one ever loves something in the same way that someone else does. We miss the fact that each of us experience the world as a different place. Think about it! It's as if there's billions of worlds out there,billions of universes, each held in the mind of one human being, who alone seems so much smaller than all that they perceive. At the same time that this fills me with wonder, it is also a little scary because I don't understand it. And I also do understand. I understand that I am not the same person in another's world as I am in mine. And they also change when crossing universes. This is at once the scariest and most wonderful thing of all

Battery Life

What would you do if my battery ran low? ran out?
If my screen stopped glowing
And I failed to receive your signals?
What if I broke down for the last time?

Would you see me breaking? cracking?
Humans can't buy their hearts protective casings
It's funny how we panic and cry at the loss of a phone
Rather than paying attention to the people

If your battery ran low, I would allow you to recharge
Sleeping quietly, breathing softly, dreaming
If your screen stopped glowing, I would be more heartbroken
Over the loss of your shining eyes

To lose you is a greater loss
Than any cord or battery life can try to replace
To miss you is so much more
Than just not having a device in my pocket

We live in a world of battery life and cords tethering us to walls
Glowing screens and disconnection
More emotion over loss of signal than loss of health
We live in a world of digitality

There's a reason people are bigger than TVs
And that the world is large enough to fit us all
It's unlimited, that reality out there, holding more than is imaginable
How could we choose the world that fits in a woman's pocket?

I think we have lost some of the most important signals
In our search for bars and battery life
There's a lot of beauty in the world
Away from these tiny screens

In a world of digitality, we have to choose
To live in the grand world with its wonders set before us
Or in a pretender, a faux, a failed clone
I choose humanity

What Do I Love?

What do I love? What is my passion; what motivates me? What drives me to move forward, day after day? What is it that I truly love? I asked myself these questions, and this was the result.

I love beauty. I love art, creation, beauty, and people.

They're all the same in a way.

Each human is art, a unique creation. Each is beautiful, wonderful, an independent, living art, all the more beautiful for its freedom. I have never seen someone who was not beautiful. To watch their eyes, their actions, to hear their voice and thoughts, this thing is beauty. To be with people is beauty. To be a person is beauty. Not in the traditional sense, oh no. Physical appearance does not come into it, or if it does, it is so small as to be very nearly insignificant. No, this is the beauty of a human soul, shining through acts of kindness, through their passions. Anyone acting on his or her passion is beautiful. That focus, that love, that light that sparks in their eyes, their expressions, their every action, that is so beautiful. Sometimes it is more exuberant than others- I myself tend to be more quietly passionate. I have friends who are more expressive. Either way, I believe it to be simply wondrous to watch, and I am blessed to behold it. That is what I love. I love people and I love their passions.

I love art and creation, and I feel it is, in a sense, a precursor. A hint at things to come. God creates. We, as his children strive to create and discover. We want to be like Him- it is an urge deep within us. Why else would I have this insatiable urge to write? To draw? To paint? Oh to paint more than them all. And to have children, to have a family as we are God's family and as He has instructed us to do. Why else would these desires be so strong except that we are all striving, deep within, to be like our Father? Art and creation, beauty, joy, and humanity- we are all one and the same. And sometimes we lose that light, that sight of what we are. And that is sad, more sad than anything, and yet it is still in a way beautiful. Humanity is beautiful and terrible and wondrous and great. Even in our terror, in our horror and our sins, there is poetry, sometimes the most emotional heart-wrenching poetry of all. This is what I love.

And I know you may say we are simply recycled material, simply remnants of ages past, reused and put back together. But isn't that in some ways equally wondrous? That we are children, creations, of a God that does not waste. In Hid universe, everything is conserved and reused and recycled- not thrown away. That is wonderful. God does not waste the materials He uses to make us. Our God conserves. He works with what He has rather than scrapping the project and starting over. So it is with us- He will not give up on us. No matter where we are in life, He is striving to help us become like Him. He is striving always to give us more beauty and more light, through what methods He may. Trials can give beauty. Blessings can. Thoughts and inspiration. Joy, talents, pain, experience- all these add beauty to our souls. Our bodies may be recycled material, but is that not a sign that God will not throw us away? We can be "recycled" through His grace (there's a Mormon Message about that somewhere).

I love this world. This world is beauty. The sunrise, the sunset, the dance of shadows across the land, the constant changing of seasons. Colored leaves and crisp winds. Summer heat, winter's chill, spring's blossoms- a constant cycle of so much beauty it hurts. My heart sings when I behold this world. I love walking to class as the sun rises, watching the mountains dawn. I love the campus and its colors, its people and decorations. There is beauty in everything. This is what I love.

What do I love? I love my God, my Father above. He has given me so much and asks for so little in return- my heart and my soul. And what am I in comparison to this grand creation? I cannot compare in grandeur to the mountains, or in grace to the seas. I cannot fly like the birds or swim with the fish. I do not shift with the seasons. I am stubborn, inconstant and difficult. Are not we all? And yet we are the favored of God's creations, for out of them all, we have the potential to be like Him and live with Him. We, out of all, are His true children. And I love Him for that. For reminding me of that when the way grows dark. For never leaving my side, always providing, always lifting, always providing strength and beauty and light and passion and love. I have so many fears and imperfections but He can cover them all. He has provided for me in every way He can. I am so blessed to live in this world, blessed beyond what I deserve. And He loves me- the greatest blessing of all. That is what I love.

This is my passion and my love: to share what I see with all.

Edit: After writing this post, I read this post on another blog. I feel like it expresses a sentiment that I wholeheartedly support, and that ties into this post. 

Why

Why do I write?

I write because I have to.

I write because there are worlds upon worlds layered in my mind, waiting to be described on a page.

I write because I have so many ideas churning within me and the only way to understand them is to write them, to see them in black and white letters.

I write, because if I didn't, my head might explode from the pressure of trying to remember, to hold onto, all these ideas that I can't forget, all these ideals that I didn't know I believed. Until the storm in my mind is quieted, until the roiling passion within my head has passed, has become words and paragraphs and many, many blog posts.

I write for all the emotions I feel, that conflict and clash, and hurt, and heal. Because being human can be so hard and confusing and wonderful that there's no way to express it with logic or math or science, it can only be expressed through the soul, through creativity, and most especially through these words on the page. My soul is a poem, a story, a novel by God, and I have to try, day by day, to write out these pieces of it so that I and the world around me can read it and know who I am.

I write because the world is beautiful

And I write because it's not.

I write because there are equal amounts of horror and beauty in the world and it's so hard to see them sometimes, and other times, they simply can't be ignored, and they clamor and scream and push until they are shared. Because sometimes the beauty is so great I want to stand in awe and wonder, and sometimes the horror is that great too. And it has to be written. It has to be put down, defined, and unfortunately diminished in a small amount in order to share it. But in the sharing, it regains all the beauty it lost and sometimes more.

I write to heal my shattered soul and to put my pieces together until I can see the image of myself in my mind, made of these letters that make the words that make me. Until the sentences finally make sense and my mind is organized and I can see straight again. Because it gets messy, here in my heart, and it's hard to know which way is up and which is down until I have buried myself in the words and given myself time to heal, to patch the holes that this world puts in.

I write because I want to be seen.

I write to be seen, because how else do you know a human soul but by the words they choose to write? I want to know and be known. And so I write.

Love Languages

I recently read the book "The Five Love Languages." I'd heard a lot about it and was super curious. So I checked it out from the library (the singles edition because the didn't have the original).

Conclusion? Totally worth the read.

It taught me a lot about myself and other people, and it's been interesting to look at my life with this new perspective. So my primary love language is almost certainly physical touch, with quality time coming close behind. It's been interesting to note that the less hugs I get, the more grumpy I am, and I even get stressed out easier (sleep might also be a small factor). So I know that if I'm feeling too stressed or grumpy or whatever, I just need to get a hug from someone. A good hug- no lame ones. So that was one practical application. I can also seek out quality time with friends or family- or even myself, because sometimes everyone needs some quality alone time. That helps refill my "love tank," as the book calls it, and gets me through another day.

The other fun part has been trying to determine what other people's love languages are, and let me tell you, I'm pretty abysmal at identifying them so far. But it's still a fun thing to think about- what makes this person tick? What makes them feel happy? Loved? Appreciated? It's something that, especially as an author, I've always been curious about. Isn't it fascinating that there can be billions of living people just as complex as we are? And yet they are so different from us. We can never see all of a person's complexity- I've heard it explained as we think so many words a minute, and we can't speak that fast, and I doubt very much that we can gain any kind of understanding as fast as we speak the words that we think. It's so fascinating to me, and I want to understand it. So the love languages are a good tool.

It was really interesting to read about the different ways that people feel loved, and the different things that we can do, both to find love, and to give love. So my challenge is to do that. Apply it in your own life- look for how others feel loved, and make them feel loved! If you haven't read the book, read it, or at least Wikipedia it. And then use what you've learned.

And if you see me, give me a hug.

Humanity

We keep trying against all odds
Because sometimes we succeed
Because to give in to failure would be to die
We try again and again
Because without this desperate effort
Without hope
We are but beasts, animals, or corpses
We cannot stop if we wish to be truly human
If you're alive, keep fighting
This battle can be won