Tag: Advice

Religion, and other ramblings

I had a long, and lengthy, discussion with a friend of mine on the topic of religion and beliefs. For the longest time, I thought of myself as a pagan. Then, when belief failed me, I turned to atheism. Now, I am not so sure what to call myself. I cannot say there is nothing out there, but I cannot definitively say something is out there either. I simply do not know.

What I can say with certainty is there is much to this world that we still do not understand.

I believe gods were created out of necessity. People needed something to put their faith in to believe that everything would be okay. This could be anything from the weather patterns, food, fertility, even death. Every culture, every people that has walked this earth, has held some form of  belief. By the time Christianity was conceived, tens of thousands of cultures had been long dead, and with them their gods died as well.

We must then choose to belief that there is something, or there is nothing. Furthermore, we must then decide who is right, and who is wrong. But what if the truth was no one was completely right, and no one is completely wrong?

I am of the belief that true faith comes from acknowledging the fact that we simply do not know. We can strive to find answers, but ultimately, we just do not know. We want to be right so badly that we sometimes miss the fact that answers can lie in unsuspecting places. Religion does not explain everything, and science does not explain everything. If you were to put the two together, however, you get more answers, and the divide between people is thinned. If you acknowledge that answers can lie within multiple religions rather than just one, more answers are presented.

I do not believe in absolutes. Nothing is absolutely bad, and nothing is absolutely good. Nothing is absolutely correct, or absolutely wrong. Bad can have good intentions, and with bad comes lessons. Good can have bad intentions, and good can also have its own set of lessons. While we argue incessantly over who is right and who is wrong, we are missing the biggest picture of them all; we are all human beings sharing an earth together, and our bickering is leading to our own demise.

Religion, and even a lack thereof, has led to countless centuries of bloodshed. Our earth is covered in gallons of blood from fallen warriors willing to die for what they believed to be correct, and its the age old chess match. There is no winner when there is death. The biggest armies does not mean one is more correct than another. A religion with a massive following is no better than a smaller following. The number of followers does not dictate the level of faith a group of people may possess. The only thing numbers provide is a larger army from which wars can begin, and how history will remember the fallen.

Going back to a point I made earlier within this post, I believe gods were created from faith, and that faith came from necessity. As people moved from land to land, they took their gods with them. The people changed, evolved, and the gods were forced to do the same. That is why we see so many who call themselves by the same name, yet believe so differently. This is why we see so many beliefs that are similar to other religious beliefs from countries we’ve never visited.  What I see now, however, is stagnation. The world, like it or not, is constantly evolving. New gods are being created out of necessity, new beliefs are forming from necessity, yet people cling so dearly to the old ways they have always known. This is not the way the universe is supposed to work. This is not to say, of course, that we should completely abandon the “old ways”, but we should not stay stuck in them. If we remained stuck, you would not be sitting at your computer, or holding your phone, reading these words while constructing your responses. We must learn from the old ways, and bring the old into the new. We must take the lessons we’ve been given, but continue to move forward. We will be ancient history one day. Our future generations will look back on this generation in disgust, as we look back on certain aspects of our ancestors, and wonder “How could people sit by and allow this to happen?” Stagnation.

There must be a balance, a harmony. The longer we continue to allow ourselves to be divided, the more we see the world being destroyed. Soon, there will be no one to argue with of right and wrong, because there will be no one left to have an opinion.

I do not believe faith comes from a book written by men. In fact, I believe religious texts are one of the poisons of our society. A book that teaches people how to live can easily be rewritten, or mistranslated, to sway the public opinion. We have seen the evidence of this, in fact, with the changes made to the bible over time. Faith comes from within, belief comes from within, and we create our gods out of necessity. Each person serves a purpose, and therefore we must also accept that “bad” people also serve a purpose. With the recent popularity in Ted Bundy, I’ll use him as an example. Ted Bundy did terrible things, but from those terrible things, we got a unique insight into the way the mind of a serial killer functions. We have a better understanding of just how terrible the human mind can be, and we saw warning signs. We bettered our understanding of the evolution of a serial killer, While we focus on the acts done by the man, we also looked at the victims. Each death gives us more answers about the human body, the human vessel. Each day we continue to move forward and learn, and that is the way we are supposed to be. We are supposed to move forward and learn more so that we may have stronger beliefs in the capability of mankind.

From all the negative things that have happened, good has come out of them. Every experience shapes who we are as people. While some events have a bigger impact than others, we cannot point fingers and continue to hate one group or the other. Instead, we take the information, good and bad, and we learn from it. The situations thrown upon us are up to us to decide how we are going to react to them. Bad can be changed to good.

Perhaps I’m getting a bit rambling, and perhaps I’m even not making sense now. I honestly cannot tell. I can only hope these words make sense to someone out there. I wish these words could help the progression by helping people realize the importance of accepting change, of accepting progression, of accepting we do not know everything, and accepting that absolutes simply don’t exist. No one is right, no one is wrong, no one is bad, no one is good all the time. It is simply impossible. Change, evolution of ourselves, however, is very possible, if we’d simply allow it to happen.

You live once, but you grow up thrice.

Hello, my dedicated readers. It has been a while, and for that, I must apologize. I felt I had much to say, but no great way to say it. I don’t ever want to feel I’m wasting my reader’s time, but most importantly, I want to feel proud of everything I deliver. Until now, I did not feel I could do such a task. I am, however, going to attempt to post more regularly. With that out of the way, one of the reasons I’ve been so quiet is actually the topic of today’s blog. It is my personal opinion that each person grows up three times.

The first time is legally. In the United States, an individual is classified as an adult upon reaching the age eighteen. At eighteen, most teenagers are finishing, or just recently finished, high school. They’re preparing to go out into the world and take in all it has to offer. Many are filled with hopes of what the future holds. Some begin working, others go off to school, while others wait patiently to see what comes their way.

The second time a person grows up is independently. This is the first time an individual pays a bill on their own, acquires debt of any sort, makes a big purchase, so forth. This is growth in the sense of realizing you’re on your own. I should mention now that each stage of growth can happen at any point. A person could reach this stage at sixteen, or be considered legally an adult at sixteen depending on circumstances. Like much of life, these are not considered absolutes.

The third time an individual grows up is, arguably, the most difficult growth of them all. Mentally. In many ways, this growth is depressing. It is the realization that life is not what you thought it would be, and the people you’ve surrounded yourself with are not who you thought they were. This is the moment where long held relationships are brought into question, closely examined to judge compatibility. It is the moment when you question everything you’ve done with your life, and compare it to what you want to do in your future. Have you made the right choices? Are your actions moving you forward? Dreams are replaced with reality. It is a hard pill to swallow, and can break you. It is painful, much like the growing pains of our youth, because not everyone reaches this stage at the same time. You’ll find friendships that you’d always counted on distancing, interests you’ve always held slipping away into obscurity, and you’re left wondering…what’s the point? You feel, suddenly, very alone.

What is the point?

Here’s the beauty of the third stage. It is not a guarantee deal breaker. Those around you may grow to match your new found adulthood. Others will not. Your priorities will change. Just like when you made your first big purchase by yourself, you can control how this growth controls your life. Those that refuse to grow may cease to matter, but you find those who grew with you grow closer to you. Dreams may be replaced with reality, but we all shape our reality. You now have the clearest mind to make those dreams come true. Perhaps with some adjustments. This is different for everyone and it is painful. But you have the strength to push forward.

The reason for my silence can be blamed on growth number three. I’ve had to make quite a number of changes in my life, not all of them easy. I did feel broken. I fought hard for friendships I knew, deep down, were over. I’d become so focused on the lack of direction towards the things I wanted that I became stagnant. Upon realizing what I was experiencing, I finally surrendered to it and accepted the change. I was the one holding myself back rather than making myself go in the direction I wanted to go.

I started having dreams again.

I’m not holding onto as much stress as I was by trying to conquer the world’s problems, while it spit on me in return. I learned to pick my own battles, I learned to appreciate what was important. It hurts. It absolutely hurts. You begin to accept the things you cannot control, you cannot handle, and you find a new path. Even if you have to carve that path from stone with a spoon.

Do not be afraid of this growth, my friends. It is okay to be afraid. It is okay to make mistakes. It is okay to try new things. It is okay to fail. It is okay to say no. You will come out the other side stronger than ever before. I am not preaching from the perspective of a success story, I’m telling you from the point of view of someone who has finally realized…life is mine… Truly mine… And I’m okay with that.

I hope this, in some small way, helps someone out there.

From Beginning to End

Why are beginnings so difficult? Really, you would think the middle part would be the hardest part. But no, in my experience, the beginning is the hardest part. I don’t understand. I mean, it’s just the start. Why is writing so difficult sometimes?

But you know what? It’s okay. As hard as it can be, that means the reward for it is going to be even better. Not necessarily a physical reward, but the feeling of accomplishment. So you know what, it’s going to be okay.

I’ll find my start. I’ll find my place. I will get published. Say it again. I will find my start. I will get published. I CAN do this. Enter it into your mind. I WILL GET PUBLISHED.

There you have it. There’s the voice. Very simple. Now we simply need to relocate the conductor of our internal orchestra.

He takes his place upon the stand, the crowd falls quickly silent. Rustling can be heard as the players arrange their instruments and their music. Indeed, this piece promises to be intricate, and it is important to be as comfortable as possible. The conductor raises his baton into the air, and the orchestra collectively takes a deep breath. His hand slowly descends, and music begins to play, filling the air with slow and gentle music. Each player has a bigger roll, for if they stood alone, the music would not work.

I have been trying to fix one piece of my mind or the other, rather than the entirety of it. I must take all that I have learned and sew it together. I have my conductor, now I need each piece of the orchestra. Let us go over all that we have learned.

We have learned about set routines, and pushing yourself to do it every day even when you feel like you cannot. Write something, even if it is absolute crap. In the end, you wrote.

We have learned meditation and the act of quieting the mind and removing distractions. It is easy to become caught up in the modern world of phones and computers, and completely forget about our own art and our own minds.

We have learned about the power of music, and the power of musical palette cleansing. Especially when it comes to Synesthesia, music with words can sometimes be detrimental.

We have learned the power of knowledge. Each day we must learn something new, and never stop learning. Just because we are not in school does not mean we cannot learn. It does not have to be knowledge obtained from the internet, or even from a book. Sometimes the power of listening is just as valuable.

We have learned the power of listening is for more than just stories. Sometimes sitting outside and listening to the birds in the trees, or the wind whispering through the leaves.

We have learned to ignore the crippling self doubt that comes along with being involved in any art form. The fear that we won’t be good enough. We are still human, and sometimes it does slip in, but we are learning to try.

We have learned that no matter how many things you try, or how much you learn, it does not suddenly get better. Learning is an on going process. You cannot simply decide one day to be something, and do nothing about it afterwards. That is silliness. Everything we’ve learned on this list, we must keep going and keep reminding ourselves of these lessons.

We learned the value of speaking from the heart, rather than for the gratification of being recognized. Though having our work acknowledged is good, our talents are not dictated by the amount of views we receive, or the amount of applause.

My orchestra is still coming together, but already I can hear the music beginning to play. The voice I have long thought dead has returned, and the music is so beautiful. The silence was deafening for so long, it is a wonder to hear such beautiful noise again.

So we carry on, we continue to learn, and we never stop. We never cease being until such a time as our being has ceased.
_____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I have been trying to write a book for a few… well. A very long time now. Just a few days ago I decided to abandon the book and pick up a short story gig. For a few hours I stared at a blank document on the computer, and decided to try my hand at free writing. I hadn’t intended to share it with anyone but myself, but upon rereading it I realized just how beautiful and raw it really was. So I share it with you now, and I hope it helps someone else.

I am a bully

Bullying has hit an all time high thanks to the technology we all crave. It follows us home; we are subjected to the cruelties of the online world where doing something as simple as stating one’s own opinion can launch a fire storm of epic proportions. We see movements every day against bullying, raising awareness and starting campaigns. None of us ever want to admit that we’re bullies, especially now. But I’m going to be brave and admit that I am a bully.

When I was little, there was a girl. She was the same age as me. We liked all the same things. We were best friends. When she fell, I’d laugh at her, sometimes further shove her down with insults and embarrassing comments. When she’d cry, I’d tell her she was stupid for crying. When she was angry I’d taunt her, then make her feel guilty for standing up for herself. No matter how badly I treated her, she wanted desperately for my love and affections, so we remained best friends.

As we grew older, the bullying grew with us, and became much worse. Soon I was cutting this sweet little girl, and forcing her to live in my own personal hell with me. Every time she tried to show me light, I broke it until it was dark as well. Each time she tried to make new friends, I embarrassed her and made her cry. The name calling from the other kids was only made worse by me as I echoed it and remained a constant reminder of it. I called her stupid and ugly, told her she’d never find love and she’d always be alone. I remember telling her one night “at least you have a vagina. Men will always want to fuck you, even if they don’t love you.” We were thirteen.

Speaking of thirteen, the girl started cutting herself and I made fun of her scars. Finally one day I convinced her that her life meant nothing. She tried to kill herself. She managed to live, however, but spent nine days locked in a hell that was supposed to be a rehabilitation ward. Did my bullying stop there? No. In fact, it got worse. I began to treat her as though she were diseased. I told her everyone was watching her. Judging her. Wishing she’d died. She believed me. When another student shoved her down and said she was “just too stupid to die”, she nearly broke again. None of the teachers wanted to help her because she didn’t fit the ideal girl type. I made her believe they were right.

Every failure, every harsh word, I’ve thrown at her and kept reminding her until finally the sweet and innocent girl began to break. I made her feel like she was worth absolutely nothing. Settling would be her best option, because otherwise she’d always be alone. Relationships failed. Friendships fell apart. Distance grew further and further between people who were always supposed to love one another. And it was all her fault, or so I made her believe.

You see, I am a bully. I am the worst kind of bully you can imagine. I am my own self critic. The girl I’ve tortured since childhood was myself…..

We see campaigns launching all the time to try and end bullying. But what of our own self abuse? What of the constant negativity? We’re told to just look in the mirror and lie to ourselves, try to convince ourselves that we are good, and beautiful, and if we keep telling ourselves this, we’ll eventually begin to believe it. The problem is every time I look in the mirror, I see my scars. I see the haunted eyes of a scared little girl who wants love, affection, and acceptance. I see the torn heart of a girl who is still tearing herself apart even though all she has left is scar tissue. I see the darkened mind of a woman who tries to keep herself inspired, who tries to hold onto, and see, the beauty and good the world has to offer…only to witness it crumble around her.

I see a girl who thinks ending it all would be the better option.

For some reason, she holds on to hope. She clings to the positive and eats up any of the good that comes her way, which often times only turns bad because she obsesses and loses her identity to try and make more of a good thing happen…which only further makes her miserable.

I see a girl who lashes out at those around her because she didn’t know how to deal with the crumbling world around her, and she feels as though she’s drowning. Suffocating.

The problem with bullying is so much of it is internal, the only way to truly fix the problem is to fix ourselves first.

This post has no conclusion. It doesn’t end on a happy note, or an inspirational story to prove that you, too, can grow past this because the simple fact is, it’s a fight I’m still fighting. I want to help, I want to inspire. But I cannot lie. I will not lie to you. However. There is one thing I can most assuredly say, with absolute honesty.

You are not alone.

Know your limits. Know your boundaries. Know when you’ve had enough.. And know when it is time to swallow your pride and admit you need help or cannot do this on your own.

You. Are. Not. Alone.

NaNoWriMo; to do or not to do.

For years, I have heard many of my writer friends discuss NaNoWriMo–National Novel Writing Month–and though the idea of participating always seemed appealing, I never thought I would be one of those people signing up for it. Don’t get me wrong, I have always dreamed of writing a novel. But the idea of finishing a book in one month seemed daunting and challenging. I guess, you could say, fear kept me from entering because I didn’t want a public display of my failures.

In July, I began writing a book called A Thousand Lifetimes. The title, and the story, had been in my head for over five years. I was tired of reading everyone books by other people, and realized I wanted my own story out there. So I started writing. And the more excited I became over it, the more I wrote. Within a month, I had reached 50,000 words. Brilliant!

By the time the novel was complete, I’d written over 90,000 words. As I typed the words “Epilogue”, I began to cry. For five years I’d struggled with this story. For five years I’d teased the idea of writing it. And now it was complete. Or so I thought. I started rereading it, and realize how fast and vague I’d been. I realized all of the errors I’d made, or inconsistencies. I wanted to cry once more, but for new reasons. I felt I’d been on the ball in regards to the book, only to find out I really hadn’t. Most of what I had written had been, in fact, garbage. So I swore I would take a month off, and start again in October.

October rolls around, and I find I’m lacking in motivation. I stare at A Thousand Lifetimes and feel an overwhelming sense of dread. I battle with myself for hours thinking “What’s the point? I thought I was on my A-Game when I first wrote it, is it ever going to be anything beyond trash?” Then I remembered a few things.

1). We are our own worst critics. No matter how proud we are of ourselves and our accomplishments, we will be the first person to kick ourselves into the mud. Every little negative comment strikes deeper than the positive ones. I had at least 10 people reading my first draft, and the majority of the good feedback was phenomenal. Then one negative comment would slip in, and I felt like my world was crumbling.

2). Use the negativity to your advantage; let it inspire you to do better. I would mourn a bit for the fact that I’d received negative criticism, and then with a new found determination I would throw myself into the chapter and make it better. I wrote in ways I never thought I could, all because I wanted to prove everyone wrong. Negative comments aren’t always bad, and anything can be used to your advantage if you try.

3). No one is perfect, no even your favorite authors. When you have idols that have published tons and tons of books, are well known throughout the world, etc, you sometimes forget that they were once where you are. You sometimes forget that they are also human, and they make mistakes as well. It was so surreal when I was reading through an eBook written by one of my favorite authors, only to discover a few typos, as well as a few grammatical errors. Even your idols have issues.

Keeping all of that in mind, the topic of NaNoWriMo came up once more, but I still had hesitations. I still wasn’t quite motivated enough. I began digging through my mind, trying to uncover my Muse from what ever pile of crude she’d been buried under, and thought of all the positive things people had said as a way to try and inspire myself. This did very little, however, so I picked at the negative comments people had given. I felt that familiar flare, that jittery feeling in my chest I feel when I am suddenly overwhelmed with the need to write, to prove them all wrong. I immediately logged into the NaNoWriMo website, and signed up. So here I am, talking to you.

I honestly believe that, for many of us, positive comments just will not work. I think deep down we know our writing is good, even if we do not wish to admit it. We know our story, or idea, is good. We don’t need to be reminded (In reality we do, of course). Negative comments, on the other hand, provide a challenge. How dare you say what I’ve written isn’t good? I’ll prove you wrong. Then again, that may be just me.

Find what inspires you, dig down as deep as you can if you must, but find it and latch on to it. And do not let go until you’ve reached your goal.

I can’t guarantee that I will finish, but I am going to give it my best effort. Not everyone completes the challenge, and that’s okay. There’s always next year, after all. So for any of you out there looking for advice, here it is. Do your best, but if you don’t finish, don’t stress out about it. There is always time.

One of my favorite authors once said “You will destroy your dreams. The good news is, you can always repair them again.”–Laurell K. Hamilton.

I’ve also decided that the first few posts of this blog will be about NaNoWriMo, and my experience with it. It seemed appropriate to start off with the WHY I’m doing this. Good luck to all those participating in NaNoWriMo!!