Kindred Spirits

I've been overwhelmed this week.

Overwhelmed in the physical and emotional sense? Why yes, of course. More than I have ever been taxed in years. Yet, my undertaking to my weaknesses are not the subject of this week's post. Instead, I wish to talk of the overwhelming surge I have succumbed to spiritually. I have sought to a haven of sorts (that is to say that anywhere but my house is a haven) by staying down in Pueblo for the week. New and fresh thoughts were able to frolic freely throughout my mind while outside the cloud of disdain and suppression that lies within my normal living quarters. Thankfully, many new ideas have sprouted during this journey, which also gives me material to ponder about for the next few weeks. I do hope you enjoy this, what I anticipate will become, three part series of things I have come to realize during my spiritual journey of sorts. Which, on the topic, I encourage that everyone try and seek out a haven to provoke thought. Remember:

Anywhere can be a haven.

Moreover, this particular feeling of perpetual spiritual overwhelm came to me in the form of a sunset. Seeking for an escape from my reality, I attempted to do so by simply thinking. Meditating. Understanding my environment in order to get a hold of my life's direction (which will be discussed sometime during this series). This feeling was further strengthened by watching a particular movie that peaked my interest, Cloud Atlas, which indoctrinated a sense that I have pondered much before. How small are we in the scope of relativity to existence? It almost came as a thought further deepening a reckless feeling of abandonment, but by watching Cloud Atlas, it all helped me come together in my thought to realize that although we as humans, as a community, as a state, as an entire being, are small in nature;

Our encounters are infinite.

What a thought. To say that such a butterfly effect is prevalent in our lives, that one action done by humans in the past have influenced our encounters today. Although the argument of the human spirit is up for debate, it makes sense that our spirit would continue on through some sort of external life. That our actions today completely invent the events of tomorrow. We all, as humans, are connected. Through the hatred of our own brothers and sisters of this Earth, through all that we encounter to judge against such a fact, we, as a species, are all one. As the character David Mitchell explains in Cloud Atlas, we are all simply an ocean. Unfathomable amounts of worthless human life together, but yet is all brought together through one common bond: what is any ocean but a multitude of drops? Together we form waves that wither away the sands of time in order to create a new landscape on the coast of generations to come, with each of us contributing our own power to make our own drop worth something.

We are all worth something in this world.

Trail of Thought

More philosophy this week!

I read a friend of mine's statement this week about their fascination of whether they had been inspiration for any literature. Such a simple sporadic thought, yet it influenced quite a few questions in my head. First, one must live quite an interesting life to ponder whether they are profound enough to inspire entire pieces of writing. Then again, it seems to be the most anonymous of people that lead to the masterpieces of the modern era we are accustomed to. Perhaps this is a useless argument in itself. Regardless, the second question that surfaced was what made this person want to inspire literary masterpieces. Is the want to inspire any less different than the unintentional inspiration? Does it negate the actual effect of inspiration to consciously decide to influence?

No, of course not!

Influence comes through some of the most unlikely spots. I mean, even writing this blog right now, I have been enticed within the desire to become an inspiration for what is an unknown purpose (at least to myself). Perhaps my friend may never realize that they have influenced writing, because often the inspiration given off by others latches on to individuals randomly and generally unknowingly to the source, producing a trail of endless thought behind them. What intrigues me about this though is that behind the wish to be an inspiration lies someone who is absolutely capable of inspiring some of the most creative of poetry, the most elegant of novels, and yet this side is often exposed. Why willingly choose to hide the very element you wish to pollinate amongst the public?

I mean, you could write books on this person.

This got me thinking even further. Does humanity consciously make the decision to hide the alter ego within each of us? Earnestly and honestly, every single one of us has at least one contrast between what will be considered a "public" personality. What is it that makes us bury the other side or decide to selectively show it? Do we fear judgement of others? What I find peculiar is that humans are extremely critical of themselves, even through criticism of absolute strangers. What we are doing is preventing this inspiration that potentially lies within our separate personalities to be spread through our own fear of judgement by those who are least important.

I don't get that.

It's a cliche standard in today's society to encourage free expression, "express yourself" and what not. But you know what? This cliche is correct. Expression, a differentiation from the societal norm, is what influences others to think outside of the box. This difference, perhaps subconsciously, causes a response within ourselves in reflection to how we act. Are we simply another brick in the wall compared to this flaring ball of neon yellow? By leaving this trail, others are indirectly inspired and leave this giant ripple of inspiration until even the original source is influenced by another individual who was influenced by the original source in the first place. Confusing? Yeah, a little. But really, the message is clear in itself:

Be the inspiration.

Sphere of Knowledge

I haven't posted much philosophy lately.

Upon talking with a friend of mine (as it seems all of my ideas come from these days), I brought an old theory of mine that deals with the knowledge of the human mind. I had completely forgotten how invigorating talk concerning the human mind can be. There is so much left to be discovered; the mystery of how our own minds work may forever be unknown. Theories may spawn, small surges of knowledge may surface, but it is a long time until we are able to uncover the astronomical workings of our own thought and consciousness. But is it too much for humanity to ever know? Will humanity ever learn the secrets that lie within each and every one of us? It is this barrier that leads me to theorize:

Is human consciousness purposely limited in its knowledge capacity?

I like to think of this as my own theory, but on that note, there may be similarities in other theories or maybe even a duplicate of this theory. If that is the case, I have no knowledge of it, but it surely came before any of my theories. Just a quick disclaimer before going on. Anyhow, much of this theory is based upon the limitations of the brain itself. Whereas it is untrue that the brain only uses 10% of its capacity, it is true that the entirety of the brain's functions are not all constantly firing. Why is it that the brain is limited to certain sections in certain situations? What are the possibilities of full brain usage at one particular instance, and what restricts such possibilities? Such activity is exhibited in those with particular types of autism. Incredible feats can be performed because of this diagnosis, photographic memory and phenomenal intelligence. Could this perhaps be the result of a higher brain capacity?

This is where my theory comes into play.

I feel that the brain is limited intentionally within all normally functioning humans. This limitation of knowledge covers everything within our particular "Sphere of Knowledge" held within the brain. That being said, these spheres allow information to be conceived to a certain barrier, that being the circumference of the sphere. Upon the quest for knowledge concerning matters including but not limited to the existence of the universe, mankind's origins, and the afterlife, our own spheres prevent our consciousness from answers. Why is this? I believe that it is our own consciousness protecting us from knowledge that is meant to be unknown. The answers that lie ahead may be so unfathomably groundbreaking that humanity is simply not meant to discover it. Perhaps, breaking the barrier or attempting to break the barrier of the Sphere of Knowledge can also influence negativity or depression, holding knowledge that is much more monumental than mankind itself. It's a thought.

Or maybe I'm thinking too much.

Sustenance Abuse

It's time to talk about life again.

I feel like I've worn out this subject to the point where it really has no value anymore, but just when I say that, something happens that reinvigorates the thought process, so prolonging the conversation. Really, that's all this blog has come to anyways. Life. Living it, enduring it, breathing it, and in some cases, cheating it. In a mild manner, that's the subject of this week's blog. Cheating death. Many of us can reach back and detail a story where, perhaps, life nearly slipped away from our grasp. Hell, I've heard stories where life did fall out of reach, and yet some were still able to get it back. One of these stories came to me through the eyes of one of my better friends, to which I had no knowledge of until just yesterday. Apparently, my friend got into a pretty bad car wreck (from what I gather, the car rolled and landed upside down), but still managed to crawl out of the car unscathed. Such a story is truly amazing, to be faced in death's looming presence and still yet managed to escape as if nothing happened. What is perhaps even more amazing is that through this experience, she says she still takes away a newfound appreciation for life.

And that got me thinking.

Now that I think of it, it normally takes a life changing event like a car crash to really get others to realize how meaningful yet unpredictable life is. Don't get me wrong, I don't mean to criticize my friend for her appreciation or anyone that has ever had an experience of the like that gave new meaning to life, but it seems that often humanity forgets that life is not always a guarantee. Tomorrow is an expected force, an entitlement, a guarantee. In the grand scheme of things, this is never the case. It is usually the wake up call of a death-defying feat that gets us to see that. But what makes it that the majority do not already value life to the fullest extent? (I feel like I've talked about this before, but who cares, we're doing it again.) Humanity abuses life, always future seeking and rarely thinking of the present situation. Of course, it is a consideration, but is it ever kept in mind that today may very well be the very last day we exist? The last hour? Minute? Second?

Of course, this paranoia isn't necessary.

However, it does bother me that people expect another day, but it irritates me just the same on the opposite side of the spectrum with the mass of those who appreciate every day. Contradicting, I know, but there's a right and wrong way of doing so. I'm not a huge fan of those who use the cliche of living every day like it's your last. In that sense, appreciation because too literal and almost forced. It sounds obligatory to make every day model the very last, creating a cycle of last days that are just the same as what is supposed to be your last. Where is the variety? The spontaneity? The possible yet healthy danger? Even worse, these YOLO kids who don't even need an introduction, nor any of my attention.

It's all petty.

But truly, how much is too much or too little of your appreciation of life? What does it matter whether you needed a kick or not to appreciate it? As long as one does appreciate their life, or even simply go as far to acknowledge their life every now and again, that's all that matters. It's too mentally taxing to constantly tell yourself "Life is beautiful. Life is important. Life is a gift." It becomes mechanical at such point, even belittling the personal meaning of life. What does make life great is the lukewarm breezes, the flowers on the side of the road, the sun shiny days that are near that make us stop and realize, "Wow, life is great." I should know, it happens to me all the time. It's great to be alive, even when it may seem the opposite. Just a little thought for the week:

What is it in your life that truly makes life beautiful?

Mother's (Out-of)Touch

So it's Mother's Day.

If you couldn't tell already. It seems like everyone's appreciation is on full steam, which is an incredible thing. I feel like sometimes our parents are taken for granted, and if it takes a designated day to finally awaken that appreciation that should not be limited to just one day, that's fine by me. Just as I have mentioned before the importance of the dedication of a parent to their child, the same is so between a child and their parents. I see a lot of kids these days that are lacking a proper respect for their parents for what seems like no reason. Either it's because they aren't spoiled enough, or their parents won't let them do something, whatever. I'm sure we're all guilty of the occasional spite for our parents, and that's just because we're rebellious, hormonal teenagers. But those who incessantly disregard their parents for reasons which may be considered unreasonable truly bother me. It's just great to see people grateful for their mothers.

But...what about people who don't?

I don't mean those who aren't grateful. I mean those without mothers. For whatever reason, those who are left with no one to celebrate with seem to be overlooked today. I feel like those who don't have a mother need to be just as uplifted as everyone else today. It's incredibly difficult to live without a parent under any circumstances. To be reminded of it takes the hurt to a higher extent, but perhaps not. Maybe instead of mourning a loss, a celebration is still in order. Those who have lost their mothers or have had different mothers can still see light in the fact that they are alive because of a mother to bring them into this world. Fortunately, I can say that I have a mother.

But unfortunately, that's really all I can say.

It hurts a little to see everyone else have such fantastic relationships with their mothers, nearly to the point where I become envious because I don't have the same relationship with my mom. In fact, as of late, we really haven't had too much of a relationship at all. There has been a lot to set us apart from each other over the last few years, and I feel pretty bad about it. It's hard to feel like you're not enough because of the way you are, what you believe in, how you act, how you perform in school. That on top of being gone away from each other and being busy all the time. Sometimes she feels less of a mom and more of a room mate.

Which is horrible to say.

It's unfair for me to judge my mom like that. Even with a torn relationship, she is still my mom. I know even when she does things that hurt me or my brothers or anyone really, she still loves me. I just wish that we could be on better terms. But of course, wishing serves me nothing. It's action that will cause results, or the lack thereof. Although I may not have been able to see my mom much at all today, or really much at all anymore, I still have a mom. That's what counts, right? Maybe I am just as ungrateful as the kids I mentioned before, then call me a reckless teenager, but you can never discount anything. Even if it takes a designated day. That's fine with me.

I just want my mom back.

Hands in the Sands of Time

I had an invigorating conversation this week.

The subject was time. Ah, time, what a fantastic philosophical subject to delve into. I felt right at home discussing with a, intellectual (mind you), class of my peers the subject of time. Hearing the opinions that everyone gave based upon the interpretation of such a broad term did just so, broadening a topic that is all but concrete. But truly, is anyone right about time? By this I mean will humanity ever be able to capacitate the infinite spectrum time encompasses? In fact, is it plausible to define time as another measurement of time: infinite? It is not this, however, that I intend to crack. The tremendous mystery of such a marvelous concept always and forever will be over the heads of not only myself, but by humanity in its entirety, despite the discoveries which continue to be made. Time is never meant to be discovered. It is a supernatural force that is only relative to the position we fixate it upon. I merely come to ponder how we spend our time.

On those merits, we are all in a deficit.

Humanity is in irreconcilable debt to time. Our perception is clouded with the false implication that time is plentiful. We have so much time to live out the dreams and fantasies, the human expectation that tomorrow is a guarantee. Yet, it is a cliche to suggest that each day should be lived like it is our last day. Yeah yeah yeah, I've heard it all before, and that's not the way to live life either, especially in the way that this statement is being interpreted. Living like it is our last day constitutes others to act reckless, without any concern or care of what consequences may be confined after the fact. This is the absolutely wrong approach to take life in. On the contrary, those who feel that everything will be done later are also subject to similar objectivity. We will do our chores later. We will find our calling tomorrow. We will change the world eventually.

Why limit yourself?

Act right now. It is true, tomorrow is never a guarantee. Only a fool finds this as motive to carry out acts of selfishness and anarchy. Do you know what I try to do every single day? Make at least one person smile. That way, if today is truly the last day, the fate that the hands of time have decided for myself, I am known for the simple action of a smile. Time will, assumingly, always be present. We, on the other hand, will not. The hands of time are always pursuing us until we slow down just enough to be caught, like an eternal game of tag. But should we live in fear of capture? Surely not. Instead, celebrate the gift of another second to breathe in the air for another time. It makes me wonder what humanity would be capable of if we did not rely on the future as we do now. A generation of laters...what about a generation of doers? Initiating the very first step to appreciating the full sentiments of life.

It's got to start somewhere, y'know.

Onward

This is going to be a very personal blog.

I'm finally 17. It really doesn't feel any different. Heck, I have slipped up and said I was 16 a couple times afterward. But since I've become older, I have certainly observed my current situation. Where I am going now, and where I will go onward into the future. I mentioned last week that I had one person in particular to thank for sculpting me into the young man I am today, and who will hopefully continue to mold me into an image of something that I can be proud of.

But then I realized something.

I can't just thank one person. I have to thank another. They're both family. And really, it's unfair to say that I can only thank 2 people in my family for impacting me so much. I want it to be known that every single one of my family members I love dearly, but I just feel the need to have to thank two people in particular. They've just...done so much for me. Sometimes I don't feel like I credit them enough for how much they've contributed, when really I am eternally in debt to them for being a part of my family. It's just something I feel compelled to do.

So, here goes.

Marcus, thank you so much for being my cousin. Like, really. Thank you. We don't really have too many heart to hearts or anything, but let this be the heart to heart if there ever needed to be an introduction to needing one. It's a shame to even call you a cousin. You're a brother to me. You've been with me for nearly 13 years of my life. Although age may separate us, I've always seen you as an equal. You've included me into everything you do, through good and through bad. Really, you've been a role model to me. We've been through many of the same difficulties, and it's been surreal to see us both transform as time goes on. You aren't the same Marcus you used to be, and perhaps that is for the better. You're off to college, you're learning how to drive, you're an adult. That one's really hard to swallow, because that means that I am next in  line. It's a scary thought, that our adolescence is over. We're becoming more and more responsible for the big wide world that was once our playground as kids. I never want to have to leave the protection of childhood. Especially not without you. I have asked you of so much lately, and you have been there to hold me up. I know you have a lot of the same issues, and I wish that you didn't have to experience them. Neither of us should. It's an awful fate. But I know that all of this has made us both stronger. It hurts so much not being able to see you all the time, and even the times I see you I perhaps take for granted. You will always and forever be there with me. At least, I hope. I don't know what I'd do without you.

Thanks.

Lastly, but surely not least, probably the most I ever owe to any human being on this planet. Perhaps, they morph themselves into one collective being. At least that's what it seems like. Both have done just as much for me as anyone else has. My grandparents, particularly my grandmother, should truly be credited to turning me into what I would hope would be a respectable young man. Everything I do I try to do with the best intentions of both of you. It's a gift and a curse to try and do that. I let myself down a lot, and I feel like I do the same when I fall short of a goal. I'm sorry if I've ever disappointed you or taken advantage of you or haven't been good enough for you guys. Ever. You guys have taken me in as if I were your own child, and I'm still feeling the repercussions of that. The shockwave effect that you both have played in my life has gone for miles and miles, and will eternally continue. Grandma, especially, thank you for supporting all I do. Thanks for accepting me as a band geek, thanks for accepting me as an outsider in terms of my religious beliefs, thanks for accepting me in every blog that I have ever posted, thanks for accepting me for being what I want to be most: myself. I don't get that from a lot of people. No one else, really. Just you guys. You both provide for me a love which I can always feel in my darkest times and in my brightest. It hurts to think that someday I will not have you guys there by my side. Not being able to see where I may go in life. Perhaps not there to see great grandchildren that I will do my best to model with the love and compassion you have given to me. Just know that for as long as I am alive, I will do my best to attempt to give back to you what you have given to me. Perhaps that will take me my entire life. We'll see.

I just really can't thank you guys enough. Really. I love you both, and a blog post just isn't enough to tell you that. Thank you both for being in my life.