Who are you?
What are you becoming?

Who am I?
What am I becoming?

You can't question the
mystery of death
without questioning the
mystery of life.

What are we all becoming?
Is death the climax?
The peak at which
we have reached our destiny?
At which we have reached
what we will all become?

Or do we continue becoming,
continue shaping and changing,
always learning, even after
we have passed on?

If so, the question remains:
What are we becoming,
the living and the dead,
the total of all the beings
that are in (were in) existence?

Answer.
We are becoming beautiful.

you work is not
your work,

your life is
your work.

make it meaningful
and beautiful
and true.

the beach

I spent today at the beach. And I found that there's something beautifully refreshing about lying in the sun too long and thinking too much. Here are a few of my thoughts that I felt were noteworthy enough to write down. They are scattered, simple, and straightforward... And they mean a great deal to me.


*Random kindness. Is there anything greater than random kindness? I think not.

*We are so much a product of everything that it becomes easy to believe that we're nothing... irrelevant, unimportant..
But you, my dear, you have been made up of beautiful virtues, you are a completely unique contribution to human existence,
and you must always, always remember how important you are.

*When did it become so important to look beautiful?
Do you feel beautiful?
If so, you are.

*My strivation to know God has taken me on a new path.
The path is neither right nor wrong.
It is simply necessary.

*Some things we learn.
Some things we just know.

Words worth sharing:

Flight

I looked over and we were in the clouds-

249 others sat with me.   

And we were floating, ascending,

keeping pace with the fluffy masses,

billowing white and brilliant and beautiful. 

And we were together but apart.

And we were everything but nothing.

And we were frail and human, 

peering down upon the rows of

civilization that we humans have created,

with eyes entranced by the blue, 

the blue everywhere! shimmering 

a bright, brilliant hue, this seemingly 

endless blue, boastful and bewildering,

a proud blue, a true blue, 

the truest blue that the eye can see,

all the while, a mind filled with wonder,

wondering about the peculiarity of 

this transparent gas that we deem "air" 

that keeps us alive and afloat,

this substance unseen, yet sustaining,

essential, accessible, monumental..

thoughts racing wildly, thinking, the overarching theme:

We Are So Very Tiny. 

This may be ridiculously simplified and equally naive, but it makes sense in my mind. 

We are fully loved, 

fully known,

and fully understood 

by only One Power.

That Power is Love. 

Now, Love can take on many forms;

Love presents itself to us in

mysterious ways,

beautiful ways...

Love puts on skin in 8 billion different life forms. 

Love walks the Earth with four legs.

Love ruffles our hair when we step outside. 

Love blooms bright in the Spring, and neutral in the Fall.

But amidst all the various ways in which this Power, Love, reveals itself to us, 

we must remember the source from which it came...

This source is inexplicable, but it manifests itself so fully in our hearts. At the core of our being, in the very essence of ourselves, lies this Love. Even if we don't consciously recognize it residing in us, Love is always there within us, guiding us, fighting for us, cheering for us... 

And just because no human can explain the transcendence of this Love (although we try), does that make it any less real? Do we feel it any less because we can't explain it? 

So it is with my understanding of God. 

Have you seen the film Dead Poets Society?
This beautiful & inspiring film introduced me
to this following poem by Walt Whitman:


O Me! O Life!

Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,

Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,

Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)

Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,

Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,

Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,

The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

                                       Answer.

That you are here—that life exists and identity,

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.


(And what will your verse be?)

Have you experienced this moment?
That enlightening moment
when suddenly everything is beautiful
and mysterious and surreal and unnatural
and your eyes span the scene playing out around you
and you wonder, with watering eyes
and a full heart, "What is this
enchanting and peculiar process we
deem "life"?- and how did I get so lucky
to experience all its fullness,
right here and right now..."

thoughts by the graveside 

How wonderful is it
to exist, to be alive,
to take breath,
to feel sunlight,
to feel wind.

How mysterious our existence -
how unfathomable
the world's creation.

And what tiny humans we are!
We think we have great knowledge,
yet our understanding
is so very small,
so very limited -

Yet each human carries
a specific purpose.
An allotted time and place
in history,
a personalized lifetime.


How beautiful and peculiar
the process of life.

rollerblading thoughts

1.)
Actualization of self -
fully realizing
who you are,
what defines you,
and the undeniable
significance of your soul -
is important.

2.)
I've discovered that the fuel
to love others
comes from loving myself,

which comes from
being in love with a God
that made me myself,

which comes from
loving the nature
of God Herself -
and all of Her
perfect, beautiful
creativity.

Thus,
the source of Love.

3.)
I think a lot of us are unintentionally ordinary.
We set out on a driven quest
to be known and appreciated for who we are,
but soon we sink into the pit of mediocrity.

4.)
Healing is a process.
Healing is feeling the sun.
Healing is feeling like everything's okay,
even if it's just for the moment.

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.

bike ride

In that one moment in time,
those few seconds of existence
on this floating orb
in the vast universe;
I felt infinite.

Everything was mine.
I possessed every treasure
that the heart could hold.
Every experience, every emotion,
every day that I had lived
morphed in an instant; I felt it all.
And I was content.

It fit together so lovely.
I felt so beautiful and free
and welcomed by the world
and the people that passed.
(Did they know of the
euphoric moment I was experiencing?)

The clouds lowered to the gravel path
and I glided along on them,
two wheels effortlessly carried my soul,
my hopes, my dreams, my passions.
All that I am weighted on a bicycle.

The answer to life
lies in moments like these.
And the question is -
where do they come from?
Is it You, God, are you in control -
serendipitously supplying
these intoxicating moments
for us humans to live
in hope that we will
credit You for our happiness?

9 a.m. on a brilliant & sunny morning 

I get a certain, semi-indescribable infinite feeling when I look up.
The clouds - fluffy, white masses of hope - tell me that this life is exceptionally real.
It is right here, right now. It is fleeting.
Why do you think the picture-perfect clouds move so fast?
No beautiful and surreal moment lasts,
but that doesn't mean that the clouds won't float freely again on another day.
There will be more and more and more of these moments.
But quick - look now! Don't waste another day.
Because the days go on and on, sometimes they drag,
but the stark reality is that they will not last forever - only a lifetime.

A lifetime! - what an extensive period of time, right?
No, I think otherwise: life is faster than our minds can process, slipping from our tight grasp.
"Life, stay with me!" I plead and cry, but it always refuses.
It moves anyway, like the clouds - shifting, changing, fleeting, momentary.

The horrifying part of this thought, the part that nags the back of my mind (the part I recall in tears),
is that the clouds will go on even when I fly away.
When I am no longer a wayfarer friend to this earth, they will continue to float on,
shedding their beauty on the day, keeping the sun company.

Another, brighter thought, an easier recollection:
when I fly away, will I then become one with the clouds,
and know them greater than I have before?
Will I reside in their comforting shape and
in turn, bring comfort to those below, still present on earth?

They have an answer -
but they won't tell me.

Those days where
the sky doesn't
look (even slightly) real;
it's far too beautiful,
it's far too lovely
to be in plain sight
for the entire world.

Surely it's a painting
or an outcome of
my imagination.

On these days,
I find myself believing
in the power of
the great Unknown -
whatever is beyond
those clouds
is the answer.

a note to myself, shared with the world

Love all kinds of people.

Our species is so impressive
and so beautiful,
and each organism so
incredibly unique
that we would be missing out
if we limited ourselves
to loving only a few
kinds of people.

Maybe we could learn
a thing or two from those
that differ from us;
maybe we can transform an
exclusive species of human beings
into an inclusive one.

Maybe we can all connect;
but that will not happen
until we set aside our differences
and step outside of our box
to love all kinds of people.

The sky is beautiful.
The clouds look like home,
pleasant and inviting,
full of wonder, full of life.
Nothing is greater
than what my eyes see
when I look up.

So, my tiny wayfarer, look up,
and be inspired
and let your imagination soar
and let your dreams run free.
Let yourself feel and be alive
and think life through.
Create and invent this day
to match the beauty
of the sky.
(This is impossible -
but worth the attempt).