Am I going insane or unveiling the secrets that a tedious life keeps from us? 

There is a true, pure force within me.

I'm looking for it. Every day, always - I'm looking for it. That undeniable feeling of fulfillment and truth that comes and goes.

It comes when I see the sunlight, the clouds, the layered green trees manipulated by gusty spurts of air.

It comes when I peer into the eyes of a loved one. When I notice them - honestly and fully notice them for all that they are, and all that they are worth.

It comes in the stillness of sight, the beauty of the day, the dark of the night. My eyes are a portal to what I understand of the world, of what I comprehend and make sense of, they are my compass to discovery.

It comes when I realize that this true, pure force within in me, the same force that I long to feel, I long to hold on to, I long to make my life about, has a mirrored force (high above) that created all that surrounds me.

It feels a lot like love.

Life is a crazy occurrence. Reality is unnatural, but we as humans (limited beings) have made it out to be natural, normal, monotonous...

Let's think this through.

People - our feet are bound to a water-filled, land-covered orb suspended in space. There are billions of orbs like ours floating around us, but we inhabit this one. No one is one hundred percent certain as to why we're here, experiencing all these moments of pain and joy, connecting to fellow wayfarer's around us. We can claim ideas and explanations and faiths in an attempt to process why we exist here, in this place, in this time, but I am convinced that nothing is certain. Maybe certainty is overrated. Maybe to be uncertain is to be in the minority - to be in love with life regardless of explanation. How the moments fit together, what they mean, and the excitement of not yet knowing the moments that will come - uncertainty is beautiful.

What I am convinced of is that there is some force greater, beyond our comprehension, that explains the reasoning behind our seemingly irrational existence. We have to trust that force in an attempt to remain sane. If we had no purpose or reason for living, then how could we trek on? We're all trusting something - that something that keeps us alive and feeling worthy of breath. It's keeping us passionate about moving forward, it's our explanation, our flame of existence.

As if contemplating why we're here isn't bewildering enough, there's this all-embracing theory that has been long claimed to explain it all -

Love.

In each religion, spirituality, in each heart and mind, there is this strong universal concept that connects us to people and activities and life in a way that we are unable to fully describe. How interesting that the closest way I can explain my existence on this earth is by a concept of feeling that's nearly unexplainable.

Feelings of love trounce me. Talk of love overwhelms me. Attempting to rationalize why I'm madly in love with my passions burdens me. I don't want to explain it - I can't explain it. I have no answer for it. But I can feel it.

How something can be equally simple and complex at the same moment, as it is with love, strikes me as indescribable. And for some odd reason I am comforted by explaining my existence with an unexplainable concept. This reassures me that the pressure is not on me, a single, minuscule human being, to create a purpose for myself. The purpose already lives inside of me, it flows from me naturally. The purpose is love - a force beyond it all.

Life, the process of existing, is a crazy occurence.
I have found it to in no way be natural, normal, or monotonous.

the two infinities 

This is life
and I am existing
in this moment
suspended in time.
My breath sustains me,
my heart retains me.
I feel an overwhelming
presence of something
bigger and wiser
beyond me.
It brings me peace.

I lay beside you.
The sun shines;
it warms my skin
but you are under the ground.
(Are you able to feel the sun?)

I want to feel you here,
present in this very moment
with me, but I am unable.
I feel bothersome;
I feel incredibly anxious
as to what life will
become without you,
but I trek on.

Death is a funny thing;
life is a funny thing.
And oddly enough,
they are strikingly similar -
they both keep going,
creating the only infinities
that we know
(we are either alive
or we are dead).
They propel us to feel,
to dream, to create who we are.
You will live
and then you will die:
and who will you become?

The limiting reagent of life
is time.
Time is limiting, fleeting, fearsome.
Your time has run out.
My time is ticking
as I lay here,
sun shining, breeze blowing,
inspiring thoughts
of existence.

Are you keenly aware of your feet moving
in a impetuous fashion, propelling you through another day?
Are you stopping to relish in the beauty
of the radiant, shining sun, feeling the warmth blanket your skin?
Are you noticing the beating human hearts that surround you
as you walk the streets, respecting each human as uniformly important?

You are alive,
but are you living?

maybe

Maybe things get worse
before they get better.
Maybe there's a tiny light
that shines in even
the darkest of days.

Maybe as we grow older
we grow wiser;
acquiring experiences and
knowledge only learned
by the weathering away
of years.

Maybe time heals wounds.
Maybe faith heals the broken.
Maybe questions are the answer.
Maybe love is all you need.
Maybe life is a mystery
not meant to be solved
but meant to be
consciously felt
and personally experienced.

Maybe, just maybe,
uncertainty is beautiful.

Here I sit
the thirteenth of June, a Friday,
in the year of two thousand and fourteen.

I gaze upon
the baby blue infinite sky
creating a quintessential backdrop
for the green leaves of trees
carelessly flowing,
passively surrendered to the waves of the wind.

And a million questions circulate
through my bewildered mind,

but as I gaze upon the beautiful phenomenon
occurring before me,

I feel okay.

on the topic of being alive 

1.)
I feel creative and
I feel an iota of something similar to teen angst.
I feel angry and
supremely liberated at the same time.
I feel incredibly confused about life
yet undoubtedly in love with a God
who has all the answers.

I feel inner turmoil and
I feel inner peace.
I feel it all.
I feel alive;
and isn't that what I've always wanted?


2.)
I think we're all living to feel alive. If we didn't feel as though our existence is worth something, then why else would we live?
That's why humans are in relentless, continual pursuit to find something, someone, anything that makes them feel infinite, important, meaningful: alive.

These things we cling to, these beacons of hope, keep us moving and keep us reminded that we are very much so in existence and full of an intended purpose.

Grief is a peculiar thing.
It strips away the life that you knew,
but it leaves behind a being
reborn and new, yet dazzed and bewildered,
alive in the wake of disaster.

I do believe that we have free will.
An exceptionally beautiful facet of life is the complete authority to govern your own life.
But I will throw you a curve ball here: how much of our life (our individualized human experience) is actually ours?
Hasn't a majority (if not all) of what we know, what we believe, been taught to us? We are presented with thoughts and ideas and we mold them to fit our lives.
We've been morphed and shaped to be who we are based on our surroundings, how we were raised, what we know (I am not dispelling the fact that we are able to break free of our molds - we are, but they are still deeply ingrained in the essence of who we are).
I think that we'd like to view life as a subjective experience, when in fact, a majority of it is probably objective - concepts that we have been taught to believe by others, passed down and lived out from person to person, time to time).

I'll use this analogy: we were born with a cone on our heads. (You know, sorta like those awkward ones that they put around dogs neck to prevent them from licking themselves and causing infection?)
When you were young, your scope of knowledge, your understanding of the world was incredibly narrow. You knew what those who raised you knew.
As you grow older and experience life outside the domain of a constant caregiver(s) with their own perception of life, the cone gradually expands as you meet new people and experience new lifestyles and learn that everyone's not like you.
The cone has expanded, but it's still the same cone, it's still the same foundational element that you were born with. Your basic understanding of the world is more or less still the same: objective.
You catch some subjective experiences here and there (which I personally consider direct experiences with the Divine) and widen the cone, but the framework has already been set.

So, why do I write about this?
I want to rip the cone off
and become my own being.
Not a collection of all that came before me;
but a free being, One with the Divine.

I want to experience life without preconceived judgments
but I'm afraid that this isn't possible.