Monday, June 20, 2011

Thinking, thinking...

image from csec.org

I've been thinking a lot about the next thing to write about for my blog... The fact of the matter is, for a while things just weren't very sunny and life didn't seem all that delightful.  Thankfully things are turning around and looking up again.  I feel more like myself--though that self has changed quite a bit in the last year.

The last twelve years of my life have been on my mind quite frequently, specifically as I have been comparing who I am today with who I was twelve months ago.  My, it seems as though it were last week rather than last summer, but with time comes change, and changed I have.  Perhaps it is sad to think I have lost some of my sunny disposition and overly-abundant optimism, but on the other hand, I could not have learned the things I have about the world without sacrificing a bit of careless frivolity along the way.  This is not to say I am now an unhappy misanthrope--quite the contrary!  I love God's people more than ever because I know more of his love.  Yet, I also know that love can leave one scarred, for what is love but the sacrificing of one's self for another person?

It seems that much of my year was spent thinking about and experiencing love:  a deligtful summer romance, budding friendships in an entirely new place, intellectual contemplation on the meanings and applications of love and truth, and most of all meaningful interactions with diverse people.  I felt love and hope like never before, and consequently felt heartache and hopelessness because of my explorations.  Many people think the way college freshmen exercise their new freedoms is through parties and drinking, yet I never felt tempted to do those things.  Only now do I realize that the explorations I was taking were in my mind and interactions with others around campus.  I was finally free to think anything I wanted and to discover through personal research and discussions what I really thought about the world.  I was stimulated not through drugs or hook-ups, but through class discussions and presentations, readings and news reports, guest speakers and peer discussions, as well as spiritual reflection and religious guidance.

I discovered how I feel about faith--perhaps what I always felt but never understood--that it is a miraculous gift given to people through all time, expressed through beautiful religious and spiritual practices, all valuable for their common pursuit for the truth of love.  In short, I became aware of the need for religious freedom and diversity of beliefs.  The discovery was an odd journey and continues to send me in every which way through the range of emotions.  On rare, joyous occasions I am in an awestruck excitement at the grandeur of it.  Mostly I am aware of and hungry for information and observations which will further my understanding of its great mystery.  At times I am frightened to think that even the most odd practices could be considered legitimate and that my beliefs, seemingly spoon-fed to me since birth, were not the only truths.  On the other hand, I felt almost angry at myself for doubting the singular truth of my particular faith and would chastise myself for a lack of religious devotion.  However, I have come to realize that my faith is absolutely true and religion is a gorgeous gift which shapes the awareness and practice of love.  Perhaps I was fed the beliefs of my faith, but is not food necessary to nourish the growth of a child?  No particular faith is better than the other and each is enriched by understanding the others.

I do not like to say "what is true for me may not be true for you."  I believe that what I believe is true for both me and you.  Though you may not believe the things I do in the exact terms which I do, your disbelief with not discredit my belief in any way, just as my belief or disbelief in your belief will do nothing to diminish the truth of your faith (still following me?).  This is not to say you must think the things I do--but rather, that I would like you to respect my beliefs as I respect yours and to allow them to touch your heart and mind.  All faiths are all true, for they point to the truth of love, which is the only truth, and the one love which has fueled the world for all time.

Call it what you will, practice how you will--I want to know what you believe, how you believe.  I desire truth and knowledge with an odd, driving hunger.  Never before have I felt as compelled to explore something as I do now.  In a way, I feel an almost animal-like instinct--an unexplainable need for fulfillment, as natural as a growling stomach yet from a deeper part of my being.  Every organ aches for understanding, most of all my untouchable soul, which I hope and pray is merely searching for its place in the universe like a lost cub looking for its pack.  Instinctively I search.  I ache.  I weep for those whose similar search is crushed by the swords of persecution and discrimination.  At the end, I believe there will be joy--the joy of unity, understanding and peace.  Perhaps love will no longer require pain as it does on this earth.  How wonderful it shall be.  Until then, I shall continue my search with an open heart and an animal instinct.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Summer discoveries

Ha! I have managed, after much too long, to access my account. Let the summer blogging begin!

Let us hope that after such a long hiatus from thesunsbirthday that I shall have something interesting to write about this summer. My plans for the season are simple: a babysitting job for two gradeschool children and one highschool student. No performances planned as of now, but my heart aches to step on stage. In place of a summer musical, I have bought an acoustic guitar, which I shall learn as well as I can. And I shall read. Oh, I shall read.

So far, I have read Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison, and In Defense of Food, by Michael Pollan, and am currently enjoying Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. Alas, the first time I picked up the latest novel was four years ago as an obligation of my English class. Having read much more classic literature since then, my mind is more attuned to the language and am thus enjoying it much more. In fact, as I write this I think in classic English prose, for I watch Becoming Jane. I must admit, though her British accent is not perfect, I still admire Anne Hathaway and take great pleasure in knowing that her name, like mine, is spelled with an E. Until later, at which time I promise a much better post, I send my love and affection.