Back into the swing of things.
I felt a month break from blogging was good enough. With so many different ideas spawning in my mind over the last month, I'm sure I have plenty of inspiration and material to blog over. But I've been having so much thought about the future. What life has in store for me. It's one of the only things I have had my mind on lately. My future. The future in general. But perhaps even further developing this concept, I have thought about my past. The origins of my life that have sculpted me into the being that I am today.
My youthhood.
I have had many lapses back to my childhood. Memories that I am still very fond of, items of my past that hold incredible significance of me. I've discussed the Fountain of Youth before in previous posts. Lately I've been revisiting the concept, about what creates that source of childhood behavior. It seems to be becoming more and more apparent to me that the Fountain of Youth is always flowing. That fountain consists of the memories that we are so fond of, and they lie within the inner quandaries of the mind and in the heart.Yet, these memories are just like pictures.
They fade with age.
It has been hurting me lately to realize that I am growing up. No longer the young and smiling child that I see in the pictures of carrying the red bouncy ball in my giant front yard next to the oak tree that I would always climb into with my cousin. Instead, I look back to these memories. They fill me with happiness, but what more do these memories serve? Simply the reminiscence of cherished moments. These moments can never be recaptured. Instead, I am becoming an adult. In attempt - or perhaps denial - to such thought, I have been searching for that very same Fountain of Youth I mentioned previously. I used to keep the mindset that this fountain was drying.
In fact, I was wrong.
Instead, as I begin to take the step from adolescence into adulthood, I rely upon my Fountain of Youth to better the future that is yet to come. All of these memories that I have held as a child, they influence my being still. The young child that has splattered spaghetti all over his face may not be the same in physical being, but the dreams that were developed as a child are still here. The dreams of going on to help others. The dream of going on to be a notable part of life. As we begin to look back on the unique childhoods every single one of us have, you have to remember one thing about your Fountain of Youth.
Dreams are where it all starts.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
The Happiest Man in the World
This is one of my favorite stories I've ever heard.
A king and his servant rule over a kingdom of thousands of inhabitants: peasants, merchants, knights, all sorts of diverse social classes. For the most part, this kingdom was a peaceful and prosperous setting. Business was constituted as usual, crime was very low around these parts, and the king was happy. The king ruled for many years and began to grow older and older. He watched his kingdom grow with him, but the king had become very sorrowful as his age increased. The king had spent a majority of his wealth and had very little money left to his name. The king had never met a woman to call his wife or to start a loving family with. The king had become more and more frail due to his age, and his strength was ailing. Troubled by the king's recent depression, his servant suggested a proclamation: have all of the citizens of the kingdom come to the palace and prove to the king that they are the happiest person in all of the land. After finding the happiest person, claim their shirt they bare on their back so that the king my inherit their happiness.
The search began. One of the first to be interviewed by the king was a lowly peasant. The king asked "What makes you the happiest man in the world?" The peasant replied, "Why, I have been married to the love of my life for 12 years now. We have raised 3 beautiful children together, and my job as a blacksmith has caused me to grow into a very strong individual. However, I am paid very little for my job, and have little money to support my family. This is the only thing that saddens me." The king deemed this man was not the happiest in the kingdom, and dismissed the peasant.
Another man was brought to the palace, a traveling merchant that resided within the market district of the kingdom. The king asked "What makes you the happiest man in the world?" The merchant replied "I have an extremely successful business selling goods from other kingdoms, this has made me a very rich man. I have also met several women along my travels which keep me in great company. However, I am a very weak man, and do not bear much physical strength. This is the only thing that saddens me." The kind deemed this man was not the happiest in the kingdom, and dismissed the merchant.
Lastly, a majestic and heroic knight was brought into the palace. The king asked "What makes you the happiest man in the world?" The knight replied "My skills in battle have trained me into becoming one of the strongest heroes in all of the kingdom, and many kings have showered me with their wealth for my services. However, my travels have been so extensive that I have not had the time to meet a beautiful maiden to settle with. This is the only thing that saddens me." The king deemed this man was not the happiest in the kingdom, and dismissed the knight.
The king became distraught. The entire kingdom had come to his throne and were not deemed the happiest in the world. The king was nearly about to break down, until a man walked through the palace gates. He was a poor man, dirty from sleeping on the streets of the kingdom and a full beard. The king laughed and thought this man had to be a joke. "Now, sir," the king exclaimed, "what makes you dare to show your presence to me as the happiest man in the world?" The poor man, under a cloth of dirt, smiled at the king. "Your highness, I have not a penny to my name. I have never met any woman who has ever had any interest in me. I am a very weak and frail man from hunger. I am the happiest man in the world."
Upon this information, the king and his servant burst into a bellowing laugh. "You? The happiest man in the world? You are poor! You are lonely! You are weak! You cannot possibly be happy!" The poor man shook his head. "Your highness, I am the happiest man in the world, because I have none of these objects in which to make me sad. I have myself, and I am happy with who I am. I don't need anything else to be happy." The king stared at this man in utter disbelief. "Sir, you are correct. I cannot believe it took me this long to realize this. I must have your shirt in order to inherit the level of happiness you have."
The man laughed in the king's face. The king then realized that the man bore no shirt to give him.
Think about it.
A king and his servant rule over a kingdom of thousands of inhabitants: peasants, merchants, knights, all sorts of diverse social classes. For the most part, this kingdom was a peaceful and prosperous setting. Business was constituted as usual, crime was very low around these parts, and the king was happy. The king ruled for many years and began to grow older and older. He watched his kingdom grow with him, but the king had become very sorrowful as his age increased. The king had spent a majority of his wealth and had very little money left to his name. The king had never met a woman to call his wife or to start a loving family with. The king had become more and more frail due to his age, and his strength was ailing. Troubled by the king's recent depression, his servant suggested a proclamation: have all of the citizens of the kingdom come to the palace and prove to the king that they are the happiest person in all of the land. After finding the happiest person, claim their shirt they bare on their back so that the king my inherit their happiness.
The search began. One of the first to be interviewed by the king was a lowly peasant. The king asked "What makes you the happiest man in the world?" The peasant replied, "Why, I have been married to the love of my life for 12 years now. We have raised 3 beautiful children together, and my job as a blacksmith has caused me to grow into a very strong individual. However, I am paid very little for my job, and have little money to support my family. This is the only thing that saddens me." The king deemed this man was not the happiest in the kingdom, and dismissed the peasant.
Another man was brought to the palace, a traveling merchant that resided within the market district of the kingdom. The king asked "What makes you the happiest man in the world?" The merchant replied "I have an extremely successful business selling goods from other kingdoms, this has made me a very rich man. I have also met several women along my travels which keep me in great company. However, I am a very weak man, and do not bear much physical strength. This is the only thing that saddens me." The kind deemed this man was not the happiest in the kingdom, and dismissed the merchant.
Lastly, a majestic and heroic knight was brought into the palace. The king asked "What makes you the happiest man in the world?" The knight replied "My skills in battle have trained me into becoming one of the strongest heroes in all of the kingdom, and many kings have showered me with their wealth for my services. However, my travels have been so extensive that I have not had the time to meet a beautiful maiden to settle with. This is the only thing that saddens me." The king deemed this man was not the happiest in the kingdom, and dismissed the knight.
The king became distraught. The entire kingdom had come to his throne and were not deemed the happiest in the world. The king was nearly about to break down, until a man walked through the palace gates. He was a poor man, dirty from sleeping on the streets of the kingdom and a full beard. The king laughed and thought this man had to be a joke. "Now, sir," the king exclaimed, "what makes you dare to show your presence to me as the happiest man in the world?" The poor man, under a cloth of dirt, smiled at the king. "Your highness, I have not a penny to my name. I have never met any woman who has ever had any interest in me. I am a very weak and frail man from hunger. I am the happiest man in the world."
Upon this information, the king and his servant burst into a bellowing laugh. "You? The happiest man in the world? You are poor! You are lonely! You are weak! You cannot possibly be happy!" The poor man shook his head. "Your highness, I am the happiest man in the world, because I have none of these objects in which to make me sad. I have myself, and I am happy with who I am. I don't need anything else to be happy." The king stared at this man in utter disbelief. "Sir, you are correct. I cannot believe it took me this long to realize this. I must have your shirt in order to inherit the level of happiness you have."
The man laughed in the king's face. The king then realized that the man bore no shirt to give him.
Think about it.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
The Real Savage
I felt I should post this week, due to a huge outburst of thought.
This last week was very groundbreaking for those who follow the news in Colorado. The Jessica Ridgeway case has taken a step towards closure with the arrest of Austin Sigg, a 17 year old who was turned in by his mother upon finding evidence that may point to his involvement. This comes to the relief to many who have been closely following the case in their homes, wondering if they were in this same scenario, wanting to find the monster responsible for such an unspeakable crime of dismembering a young girl's body. Only a fiend could do such an evil thing. Only the work of a sick and twisted savage.
However, who is the real savage in this case?
By no means am I implying that what Sigg did is justified. Rather, I am pointing to the casual observers of this case; those who sit at home and say "What a sickening individual", "How could he do this", "I would personally kill the man myself for what he did." Are we truly this shallow of a society to immediately switch our views from the care of a little girl who was murdered to the punishment of the man who is allegedly responsible? We haven't even found out whether this man is guilty or not, whether he actually committed this crime. Yet, we still treat him like we witnessed him do it ourselves. Like a savage. A cold blooded killer with no emotion. We pay attention to his death, we wish for him to rot in jail, we pray for him to reap what he has sown.
And for what?
Does the death of this man truly constitute what has happened to the initial case - the death of Jessica? We seem to overlook that now that we have someone to blame. Someone to confide our anger in. Yet, this man is still the same as any one of us: human. A human with feelings, a human with emotion, a human with the ability to act. Yet, we defile someone who has yet to even be convicted and treat him as a savage with no heart, a ruthless killer without will, a monster of incredible caliber. Perhaps this is what is inside of all of us. Perhaps we are savages for wishing worse feelings upon him than he has committed. We're no better than whoever did such a thing to a young woman, caught in the middle of all of this.
Who's the real savage here?
This last week was very groundbreaking for those who follow the news in Colorado. The Jessica Ridgeway case has taken a step towards closure with the arrest of Austin Sigg, a 17 year old who was turned in by his mother upon finding evidence that may point to his involvement. This comes to the relief to many who have been closely following the case in their homes, wondering if they were in this same scenario, wanting to find the monster responsible for such an unspeakable crime of dismembering a young girl's body. Only a fiend could do such an evil thing. Only the work of a sick and twisted savage.
However, who is the real savage in this case?
By no means am I implying that what Sigg did is justified. Rather, I am pointing to the casual observers of this case; those who sit at home and say "What a sickening individual", "How could he do this", "I would personally kill the man myself for what he did." Are we truly this shallow of a society to immediately switch our views from the care of a little girl who was murdered to the punishment of the man who is allegedly responsible? We haven't even found out whether this man is guilty or not, whether he actually committed this crime. Yet, we still treat him like we witnessed him do it ourselves. Like a savage. A cold blooded killer with no emotion. We pay attention to his death, we wish for him to rot in jail, we pray for him to reap what he has sown.
And for what?
Does the death of this man truly constitute what has happened to the initial case - the death of Jessica? We seem to overlook that now that we have someone to blame. Someone to confide our anger in. Yet, this man is still the same as any one of us: human. A human with feelings, a human with emotion, a human with the ability to act. Yet, we defile someone who has yet to even be convicted and treat him as a savage with no heart, a ruthless killer without will, a monster of incredible caliber. Perhaps this is what is inside of all of us. Perhaps we are savages for wishing worse feelings upon him than he has committed. We're no better than whoever did such a thing to a young woman, caught in the middle of all of this.
Who's the real savage here?
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