Sunday, April 26, 2009
Friday, December 5, 2008
You never know...
... just how special someone is until they are gone. Sometimes you don't even know how special they are after they're gone.
(Sorry if this note gets a little wordy or confusing... I'm still emotional and I'm tired from a long day)
On November 18th, 2008, my Uncle Tony Martorana passed away after a four year battle with cancer. I know that for my cousin Lindsay and her Mom, and obviously Tony, it was a long 4 years. I have the utmost sympathy and respect for the Martoranas and always will. Lindsay and Barbie, if your reading this... I love you very much and am always here for you guys.
Today was the wake for the funeral. The first thing I thought as I went in there was why people weren't more upset about what was going on. The last funeral I went to was when I was 13. That funeral didn't have much of an effect on my understanding of a funeral and I thought everyone should be sentimental and upset (as horrible as that may sound). As we neared the parlor, there was a table with a video of various pictures of Tony as well as some of his favorite music playing. As I watched the pictures flip through, I couldn't help but wonder why I wasn't more upset. I saw my Uncle Chris beginning to well up and I couldn't help but feel awkward. I wasn't crying, nor was I close to it. I thought I was supposed to be emotional and saddened at this sight. Then I turned around and saw the open casket. This brought back memories of when my Grandma (Mom's side) passed away. I was in such a state of shock when I was looking at the woman who I had seen every year for the past 13 years of my life at Christmas. While I knew she wasn't there, just seeing her made it feel all to life like to me and I couldn't look for to long.
I guess today was a step towards adulthood as I wanted to see Tony. Like I said in the previous note... there is a strange connection - at least to me - between a Godfather and a Godson. It doesn't matter how close I was to him, the word itself creates a bond between the man and the boy. I will mark this section with an asterisk (*) and come back to this point later. As I walked up to the casket I saw Barbie for the first time that day. She was doing okay until everyone was walking up to Tony and began to cry. Then - for the first time - I saw the pain that must come with losing the person you love most in the world. I put my arm around Barbie and then she turned to me, looked me in the eye and said: "He looks like himself still doesn't he?", and she broke down. As I was hugging my Aunt, I couldn't believe what she had to be going through and I know there is still a long road. Regardless, after she left to go to the casket, it hit me. My Uncle, my Godfather, wasn't around anymore. I knelt down and said a few prayers for him (please pray for the repose of his soul and a quick term in purgatory) and as I got up, all the emotion that I was worried I wouldn't be able to show began to unfurl. I cried for about 30 minutes straight, and it was not your average crying. This was the hyperventilating, gasping type crying. As all of this was happening I started remembering the things that reminded me of Tony.
(*) This goes into the aforementioned part of my note. The link was realized as we were driving up to St. Louis for the funeral. I was trying to think about the bond that I had with Tony, and one glaring memory continued to rear its way back to me. Tony loved the drums. My favorite memory had to be when I gave him a tape when I was about 8 or so and I asked him if he could play the drums for the song. I sat in amazement as my Uncle put the tape on, listened for about 15-30 seconds and began to play along with the song. I thought that was the coolest thing ever and always wanted to learn how to play the drums after. He was my inspiration for banging my hands on tables and probably more of an influence on my musical taste than I actually realize.
Where does this tie into the body? I sat in the parlor most of today (with my eyes throbbing and my temples vociferating at me) thinking about how I hadn't taken the time to get to know my Godfather. I talked to my Mom about it as well. I never sat down and heard stories from him. I didn't get to know his sense of humor... how him and my Aunt met... how he grew up... how his religion affected his life? Isn't that what we are supposed to ask of our Godparents? They are supposed to help us in our faith walk and, as an adult male (as other males know), a guide to help me through any questions I might have about anything. I think back on the times I could have gotten to know him and am upset that I didn't take the opportunity. The old adage seems to come into play often in these types of situations: "You never know what you had until its gone".
I will never forget Tony. Not solely because he was my Uncle and Godfather. Not only because he is the father of the cousin who held the generations parties every year (my cousins and I that are close in age have awesome sleep over parties... no one will ever know such fun :D) but because he has made lasting impressions on me. Anytime I hear drums - I think of Tony and will continue to. Every Christmas, I will still think of Tony when we sit down for Christmas Eve or Christmas morning breakfast. Most importantly, Tony taught me how to be strong. He taught me to never give up and no matter the size of the obstacle; nothing should stop someone from living life. "Carpe Diem" right? He also taught me more about faith than I may ever really know or understand.
Anyone who reads this: don't take advantage of things. You may not have them around forever and you might not get the chance to know something (someone) or fully understand something (someone) as much as you truly want to. Arthur Koestler said: "The most persistent sound which reverberates through mens' history is the beating of war drums”. Tony and his war will always have a special place in my heart and the sound of his drums will be my war drums - the ones I hear when I need that little boost of confidence. I know he will always be with me now when I need that strength and I also know that he is now at rest with God. Tony - I love you very much. I am proud to be your Godson and I will always remember you. Thank you for the lessons you taught me face to face, while you were fighting, and the ones that you will continue to teach me as I go on in life. I miss you Tony. More importantly, I love you and see you upstairs.
(Sorry if this note gets a little wordy or confusing... I'm still emotional and I'm tired from a long day)
On November 18th, 2008, my Uncle Tony Martorana passed away after a four year battle with cancer. I know that for my cousin Lindsay and her Mom, and obviously Tony, it was a long 4 years. I have the utmost sympathy and respect for the Martoranas and always will. Lindsay and Barbie, if your reading this... I love you very much and am always here for you guys.
Today was the wake for the funeral. The first thing I thought as I went in there was why people weren't more upset about what was going on. The last funeral I went to was when I was 13. That funeral didn't have much of an effect on my understanding of a funeral and I thought everyone should be sentimental and upset (as horrible as that may sound). As we neared the parlor, there was a table with a video of various pictures of Tony as well as some of his favorite music playing. As I watched the pictures flip through, I couldn't help but wonder why I wasn't more upset. I saw my Uncle Chris beginning to well up and I couldn't help but feel awkward. I wasn't crying, nor was I close to it. I thought I was supposed to be emotional and saddened at this sight. Then I turned around and saw the open casket. This brought back memories of when my Grandma (Mom's side) passed away. I was in such a state of shock when I was looking at the woman who I had seen every year for the past 13 years of my life at Christmas. While I knew she wasn't there, just seeing her made it feel all to life like to me and I couldn't look for to long.
I guess today was a step towards adulthood as I wanted to see Tony. Like I said in the previous note... there is a strange connection - at least to me - between a Godfather and a Godson. It doesn't matter how close I was to him, the word itself creates a bond between the man and the boy. I will mark this section with an asterisk (*) and come back to this point later. As I walked up to the casket I saw Barbie for the first time that day. She was doing okay until everyone was walking up to Tony and began to cry. Then - for the first time - I saw the pain that must come with losing the person you love most in the world. I put my arm around Barbie and then she turned to me, looked me in the eye and said: "He looks like himself still doesn't he?", and she broke down. As I was hugging my Aunt, I couldn't believe what she had to be going through and I know there is still a long road. Regardless, after she left to go to the casket, it hit me. My Uncle, my Godfather, wasn't around anymore. I knelt down and said a few prayers for him (please pray for the repose of his soul and a quick term in purgatory) and as I got up, all the emotion that I was worried I wouldn't be able to show began to unfurl. I cried for about 30 minutes straight, and it was not your average crying. This was the hyperventilating, gasping type crying. As all of this was happening I started remembering the things that reminded me of Tony.
(*) This goes into the aforementioned part of my note. The link was realized as we were driving up to St. Louis for the funeral. I was trying to think about the bond that I had with Tony, and one glaring memory continued to rear its way back to me. Tony loved the drums. My favorite memory had to be when I gave him a tape when I was about 8 or so and I asked him if he could play the drums for the song. I sat in amazement as my Uncle put the tape on, listened for about 15-30 seconds and began to play along with the song. I thought that was the coolest thing ever and always wanted to learn how to play the drums after. He was my inspiration for banging my hands on tables and probably more of an influence on my musical taste than I actually realize.
Where does this tie into the body? I sat in the parlor most of today (with my eyes throbbing and my temples vociferating at me) thinking about how I hadn't taken the time to get to know my Godfather. I talked to my Mom about it as well. I never sat down and heard stories from him. I didn't get to know his sense of humor... how him and my Aunt met... how he grew up... how his religion affected his life? Isn't that what we are supposed to ask of our Godparents? They are supposed to help us in our faith walk and, as an adult male (as other males know), a guide to help me through any questions I might have about anything. I think back on the times I could have gotten to know him and am upset that I didn't take the opportunity. The old adage seems to come into play often in these types of situations: "You never know what you had until its gone".
I will never forget Tony. Not solely because he was my Uncle and Godfather. Not only because he is the father of the cousin who held the generations parties every year (my cousins and I that are close in age have awesome sleep over parties... no one will ever know such fun :D) but because he has made lasting impressions on me. Anytime I hear drums - I think of Tony and will continue to. Every Christmas, I will still think of Tony when we sit down for Christmas Eve or Christmas morning breakfast. Most importantly, Tony taught me how to be strong. He taught me to never give up and no matter the size of the obstacle; nothing should stop someone from living life. "Carpe Diem" right? He also taught me more about faith than I may ever really know or understand.
Anyone who reads this: don't take advantage of things. You may not have them around forever and you might not get the chance to know something (someone) or fully understand something (someone) as much as you truly want to. Arthur Koestler said: "The most persistent sound which reverberates through mens' history is the beating of war drums”. Tony and his war will always have a special place in my heart and the sound of his drums will be my war drums - the ones I hear when I need that little boost of confidence. I know he will always be with me now when I need that strength and I also know that he is now at rest with God. Tony - I love you very much. I am proud to be your Godson and I will always remember you. Thank you for the lessons you taught me face to face, while you were fighting, and the ones that you will continue to teach me as I go on in life. I miss you Tony. More importantly, I love you and see you upstairs.
Amazing Experience
Alright. I am currently sitting at a table on the front face of the library at Georgia Tech on the 4th floor (I thought I was on the 6th but apparently that was fallacious). I've been teaching myself differential equations for a good majority of this week in the library. I was sitting here working on a problem, when I "met" a rather unique individual. I believe (we never were formally introduced) his name was Noble Shepherd-Albay. It sounded weird to me at first but after this entire encounter it made a bit more sense (at least to me) - the following may make you believe I'm crazy but I enjoyed the experience.
This man was dressed in baggy jeans, and an enormous camouflage jacket with a turban-style hat. He wore huge sun glasses and seemed so humble. There was just an aura about him. Eventually, we caught each others' stare and he began to talk to me for a bit. I believe he said he was a professor (maybe a TA) for a Quantum Mechanics class (not sure if it was here or not - he had a very soft voice). I knew that I had been quick to judge him at first and felt bad about this very quickly because soon after, he came up to me and asked if I went to Waffle House. I, of course, said yes and he handed me a bracelet that gives you 10% off any meal you have their when you wear it in the establishment. So feeling bad, he asked if he could borrow my phone... I decided to indulge him.
I began to listen to this man (unintentionally at first as I had taken my headphones off so that I could be more attentive for when he returned my phone). As I was listening - it was first about charity work - which he then extended me an offer for but I had to decline as I have to still learn the rest of Differential Equations and 3 other classes - and, honestly I felt a tad uncomfortable still). So he continued on his calls and then began a new conversation with some motel's he had stayed with in the past. He was apparently fighting against charges that were incurred against him, when he was due 3 days and 2 nights free. As I listened - I was amazed at how calm this man was. He was very articulate - spoke very softly and had no rise in tone during the 40 minutes or so of conversation. I won't get into the details of all of the dispute but I knew that this man had also been in law as he spoke with these people with the ease of the greatest lawyers. I'm assuming at the end he had been successful or at least made a little head-way.
At the end he asked to borrow a dollar so he could get on MARTA to deliver the food to the charity today. I obliged again and he then said:
"Next time we meet, ask me for $20 on that $1".
I laughed at what I thought was a joke, which was followed by:
"I'm serious. You don't know who you are talking to do you?" (or something along those lines).
At this point I thought he was a huge musician or actor that I had not recognized and he grabbed his bag and brought it over to my table. He began to pull pictures out of bag that showed 'Noble' with Flava Flav, Janet Jackson, and he went on to say that earlier in his career he had helped bands (such as Ozzy Osbourne and some other Rock and Country bands) get their start. I just looked and smiled and he smiled back. After another small exchange of words and his advice (saying I should take me Chemistry major, go Pre-Law and do what his friend does: sues pharmaceutical companies for ill practice [wasn't sure again due to the soft voice but obviously some kind of injustice] for about 7 figures a year), he asked my name, shook my hand, and left down one of the stacks.
I stared at where he had walked away and just smiled at myself. It all made sense to me anyway. His name: "Noble Shepherd". He had religion in his life (albeit Muslim, but still a faith nonetheless). He made mention that he was fighting the motel chains so that they would not step on others as they were trying to do him (and in his own words, he was not one to be silenced) - he was a voice for others). He was soft spoken, continually happy, and very simple but very brilliant.
I was really surprised the way this whole experience had contracted itself and wondered why it was me that had the honor of this man's company. Now some people may think I am naive at this point or that I'm just easily impressed... All I have to say to those people is that you can think what you like but I extend this - what if that man was a "Noble Shepherd". My mind started to quickly work and I just kept coming back to that humble man from Jerusalem many years ago. I know it sounds crazy but my mind and my soul were just calling out that it could have been and that it was highly plausible that it was.
Take it for what it's worth, but to me, I just had a once in a lifetime experience.
This man was dressed in baggy jeans, and an enormous camouflage jacket with a turban-style hat. He wore huge sun glasses and seemed so humble. There was just an aura about him. Eventually, we caught each others' stare and he began to talk to me for a bit. I believe he said he was a professor (maybe a TA) for a Quantum Mechanics class (not sure if it was here or not - he had a very soft voice). I knew that I had been quick to judge him at first and felt bad about this very quickly because soon after, he came up to me and asked if I went to Waffle House. I, of course, said yes and he handed me a bracelet that gives you 10% off any meal you have their when you wear it in the establishment. So feeling bad, he asked if he could borrow my phone... I decided to indulge him.
I began to listen to this man (unintentionally at first as I had taken my headphones off so that I could be more attentive for when he returned my phone). As I was listening - it was first about charity work - which he then extended me an offer for but I had to decline as I have to still learn the rest of Differential Equations and 3 other classes - and, honestly I felt a tad uncomfortable still). So he continued on his calls and then began a new conversation with some motel's he had stayed with in the past. He was apparently fighting against charges that were incurred against him, when he was due 3 days and 2 nights free. As I listened - I was amazed at how calm this man was. He was very articulate - spoke very softly and had no rise in tone during the 40 minutes or so of conversation. I won't get into the details of all of the dispute but I knew that this man had also been in law as he spoke with these people with the ease of the greatest lawyers. I'm assuming at the end he had been successful or at least made a little head-way.
At the end he asked to borrow a dollar so he could get on MARTA to deliver the food to the charity today. I obliged again and he then said:
"Next time we meet, ask me for $20 on that $1".
I laughed at what I thought was a joke, which was followed by:
"I'm serious. You don't know who you are talking to do you?" (or something along those lines).
At this point I thought he was a huge musician or actor that I had not recognized and he grabbed his bag and brought it over to my table. He began to pull pictures out of bag that showed 'Noble' with Flava Flav, Janet Jackson, and he went on to say that earlier in his career he had helped bands (such as Ozzy Osbourne and some other Rock and Country bands) get their start. I just looked and smiled and he smiled back. After another small exchange of words and his advice (saying I should take me Chemistry major, go Pre-Law and do what his friend does: sues pharmaceutical companies for ill practice [wasn't sure again due to the soft voice but obviously some kind of injustice] for about 7 figures a year), he asked my name, shook my hand, and left down one of the stacks.
I stared at where he had walked away and just smiled at myself. It all made sense to me anyway. His name: "Noble Shepherd". He had religion in his life (albeit Muslim, but still a faith nonetheless). He made mention that he was fighting the motel chains so that they would not step on others as they were trying to do him (and in his own words, he was not one to be silenced) - he was a voice for others). He was soft spoken, continually happy, and very simple but very brilliant.
I was really surprised the way this whole experience had contracted itself and wondered why it was me that had the honor of this man's company. Now some people may think I am naive at this point or that I'm just easily impressed... All I have to say to those people is that you can think what you like but I extend this - what if that man was a "Noble Shepherd". My mind started to quickly work and I just kept coming back to that humble man from Jerusalem many years ago. I know it sounds crazy but my mind and my soul were just calling out that it could have been and that it was highly plausible that it was.
Take it for what it's worth, but to me, I just had a once in a lifetime experience.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Sleepless again... (few people will follow this...)
*IMPORTANT - I touch on a lot of subjects during this note and if your not up for reading a lot I advise you to stop now. If you are - I think you will find the latter things very interesting. I promise it gets better as you read. Please forgive me if I do lose you in any part of this - I received some bad news tonight and my mind was in 52 different places at once (I used 52 because that's the number my Mom always uses :D*
I closed my eyes tonight and had an epiphany. Well... many actually, but its strange what the twilight will bring to your mind. Often I have been curious as to what the world could accomplish if we required less sleep - I know many people who bring the best of themselves out at night (its as if we are all comforted by the shroud that the night has to offer - it lets us be ourselves regardless of how much of ourselves we are during the day to day). The only problem with this is that (for me at least) it seems to inhibit my ability to reach REM (Rapid Eye Movement) sleep most nights.
I'm not sure what brought on tonight's difficulties or realizations. Maybe it was the fact that my Uncle is in worse condition than ever. Maybe its because I don't feel great about my efforts at school. Maybe I want more out of my faith. Maybe my heart is telling me I shouldn't be following my pre-ordained path. Most of these were brought to my attention in the span of 5 minutes... back to back. Most can agree (at least I know my roommate Bob Kay has experienced analogous nights) that it is a difficult task managing all these thoughts in such a short time - but I guess this is my attempt (be forewarned... I might get confusing).
The thought process was as follows (The following is irrelevant to the comprehension of this note but is interesting to read - if not humorous).
My cousin's Dad is struggling with cancer. My cousin is an artist. I had a conversation with Tom today about artists performing best in the face of "depression". I wonder what this would spark for her. My Uncle's complications birthed "Time of Your Life" (check the other note). I wonder how I would express these sentiments through dance. Maybe I should do more artistic dancing, regardless of the limitations set by genre. Maybe I should be doing something more artistic for a career. I don't think engineering is exactly what I want to do. I want to do something in science. What about art? What is art? Art: The science of taking everyday feelings and providing a simplistic way of realizing these emotions and dealing with them. There are so many ilks (that was a vocab word from Junior year) of this science because people express things differently, hence: Dance, Painting, Photography, Writing, Theatre, etc.
Please excuse that if it perplexed you. That was just the process my mind took. You see - any ordinary time of the day, we are too focused to stop and let the mind run off. Or perhaps that is a glimpse into the unconscious. The unconscious is our [inactive] brain's way of telling us what we really yearn for. If this (and the fact that what our unconscious has to say is stronger than our conscious thought, and has more substance) is the case, then why do we depend on our conscious thought as much as we tend to? Carl Gustav Jung said: “Consciousness succumbs all too easily to unconscious influences, and these are often truer and wiser than our conscious thinking” (Mr. Jung was one of the predominant thinkers on the subject of analytical psychology). Based on this quote, we should be paying more attention at night than during the day. Most see the night as a time to relax, and while most think this infinite thought an obstacle; however, it should be looked at as our true desires. Maybe it is an art to be able to find what you truly want.
Regardless of this being our heart's desperate attempt to speak to us or just random build up that coincidentally fits together, this phenomenon seems to occur too readily (I guess that solidifies which of the two it really is). It should be listened to, and obviously (as God intended), happens for a reason. Now to piece my prior unconscious thoughts together.
When I heard about my Uncle Tony, I was really upset. Obviously, he is a family member and hearing about any loved one being in such pain is unbearable. He is also my Godfather, and while we may not have been the closest of people, that word seems to carry some sort of attachment with it. When I went to bed all I could think about was him. Then I thought about death. At the risk of sounding cliche, I arrived at the thought of school and if I was making the right choices for myself. I have been in a constant struggle with myself the past year and have been wondering if I chose the right direction for my life (if you know me well, I have this dream of being an entertainer. I would be filled with such ecstasy if I could have just one chance of performing my lyrics and dance for people and get people excited or inspired through them). I know my dream is in no way close to what I'm in school for (chemical engineering), and this made me think that if I truly wanted it, I would have gone that route. That thought never brings rest to the insane passion I have for writing, dancing, and (even if it is failing at it) singing. So when I was wondering if my decision was correct, it got me thinking about prayer. I started thinking about my religious life and realizing how trivial all of this truly is in comparison to what I can look forward to with God. My next thought scared me: am I doing all that I can to truly reach that ultimate goal? I went on: if I was doing things I truly loved, maybe I would be more at peace and have less internal turmoil to allow more focus on my faith?
All of these thoughts (while confounding and muddled) can be deciphered and linked together and I think that it can lead to a truth; don't ask me what truth, but I believe it will lead to something.
As demonstrated above, our thoughts can come in many different forms and can have a vast variance from one thought to the next, but again, they can all be associated. Looking back at my mind's puzzle I started off saying I'm sleepless. I then tried to diagnose the root of my "insomnia" by listing the things I was thinking about during my sleepless state. My next step was defining the process my brain took, looking for hints to solve the puzzle (Note: I didn't cheat! It's a valid method!). While writing the aforementioned out, I was curious as to why my brain was acting in such an "irrational" manner. I proceeded to rationalize it (if not to you, then at least to myself) as being the unconscious and defining this to further my understanding of the topic. After realizing that my prior musings were actually my legitimate feelings, I analyzed them to see how they related. What I found was that they are all separate concerns of mine, but they caused me to see things that I would not have seen otherwise. If it hadn't been for the news of my uncle, I would probably be dreaming of being James Bond (Quantum of Solace was great in my opinion). Since I received the news, I began to let my mind roam. This brought up the different thoughts and led me to my goals of this note:
1) I managed all of my thoughts for myself. I organized them so that I could see them clearly, determine their source, and ultimately, find a better way to fix the worries.
2) I remedied at least one of the worries - my faith. People always say you should listen for God's voice. I was always curious as to how I was supposed to hear someone that was in Heaven (that has to be pretty far away). What I have discovered (I will either convince you to think the same or to think that I am crazy) was our unconscious is what we truly desire. These desires are communicated to us through our souls (more commonly referred to as the Heart). Our souls are in direct communication to God [this is how he communicated the innate and universal laws that everyone believes in: it is wrong to steal, kill, be cruel, etc. and if you feel like debating or furthering this particular section, please see Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis prior to confronting me). So maybe if we listen to our unconscious {our desires [our heart (to God)]} then we can listen to God (oops I just mentioned that... please note: I'm using my sarcastic tone) and we can progress in our faith walk.
If you actually had the patience to read this, congratulations... You just sat through an abridgment of my auto-biography: finished before any major landmarks were achieved in my life. For those who didn't: You now lack the key to your life - the unconscious... the link to what you truly want - God.
I just closed my eyes and my unconscious is thinking about sleep... I guess I know what I want.
I closed my eyes tonight and had an epiphany. Well... many actually, but its strange what the twilight will bring to your mind. Often I have been curious as to what the world could accomplish if we required less sleep - I know many people who bring the best of themselves out at night (its as if we are all comforted by the shroud that the night has to offer - it lets us be ourselves regardless of how much of ourselves we are during the day to day). The only problem with this is that (for me at least) it seems to inhibit my ability to reach REM (Rapid Eye Movement) sleep most nights.
I'm not sure what brought on tonight's difficulties or realizations. Maybe it was the fact that my Uncle is in worse condition than ever. Maybe its because I don't feel great about my efforts at school. Maybe I want more out of my faith. Maybe my heart is telling me I shouldn't be following my pre-ordained path. Most of these were brought to my attention in the span of 5 minutes... back to back. Most can agree (at least I know my roommate Bob Kay has experienced analogous nights) that it is a difficult task managing all these thoughts in such a short time - but I guess this is my attempt (be forewarned... I might get confusing).
The thought process was as follows (The following is irrelevant to the comprehension of this note but is interesting to read - if not humorous).
My cousin's Dad is struggling with cancer. My cousin is an artist. I had a conversation with Tom today about artists performing best in the face of "depression". I wonder what this would spark for her. My Uncle's complications birthed "Time of Your Life" (check the other note). I wonder how I would express these sentiments through dance. Maybe I should do more artistic dancing, regardless of the limitations set by genre. Maybe I should be doing something more artistic for a career. I don't think engineering is exactly what I want to do. I want to do something in science. What about art? What is art? Art: The science of taking everyday feelings and providing a simplistic way of realizing these emotions and dealing with them. There are so many ilks (that was a vocab word from Junior year) of this science because people express things differently, hence: Dance, Painting, Photography, Writing, Theatre, etc.
Please excuse that if it perplexed you. That was just the process my mind took. You see - any ordinary time of the day, we are too focused to stop and let the mind run off. Or perhaps that is a glimpse into the unconscious. The unconscious is our [inactive] brain's way of telling us what we really yearn for. If this (and the fact that what our unconscious has to say is stronger than our conscious thought, and has more substance) is the case, then why do we depend on our conscious thought as much as we tend to? Carl Gustav Jung said: “Consciousness succumbs all too easily to unconscious influences, and these are often truer and wiser than our conscious thinking” (Mr. Jung was one of the predominant thinkers on the subject of analytical psychology). Based on this quote, we should be paying more attention at night than during the day. Most see the night as a time to relax, and while most think this infinite thought an obstacle; however, it should be looked at as our true desires. Maybe it is an art to be able to find what you truly want.
Regardless of this being our heart's desperate attempt to speak to us or just random build up that coincidentally fits together, this phenomenon seems to occur too readily (I guess that solidifies which of the two it really is). It should be listened to, and obviously (as God intended), happens for a reason. Now to piece my prior unconscious thoughts together.
When I heard about my Uncle Tony, I was really upset. Obviously, he is a family member and hearing about any loved one being in such pain is unbearable. He is also my Godfather, and while we may not have been the closest of people, that word seems to carry some sort of attachment with it. When I went to bed all I could think about was him. Then I thought about death. At the risk of sounding cliche, I arrived at the thought of school and if I was making the right choices for myself. I have been in a constant struggle with myself the past year and have been wondering if I chose the right direction for my life (if you know me well, I have this dream of being an entertainer. I would be filled with such ecstasy if I could have just one chance of performing my lyrics and dance for people and get people excited or inspired through them). I know my dream is in no way close to what I'm in school for (chemical engineering), and this made me think that if I truly wanted it, I would have gone that route. That thought never brings rest to the insane passion I have for writing, dancing, and (even if it is failing at it) singing. So when I was wondering if my decision was correct, it got me thinking about prayer. I started thinking about my religious life and realizing how trivial all of this truly is in comparison to what I can look forward to with God. My next thought scared me: am I doing all that I can to truly reach that ultimate goal? I went on: if I was doing things I truly loved, maybe I would be more at peace and have less internal turmoil to allow more focus on my faith?
All of these thoughts (while confounding and muddled) can be deciphered and linked together and I think that it can lead to a truth; don't ask me what truth, but I believe it will lead to something.
As demonstrated above, our thoughts can come in many different forms and can have a vast variance from one thought to the next, but again, they can all be associated. Looking back at my mind's puzzle I started off saying I'm sleepless. I then tried to diagnose the root of my "insomnia" by listing the things I was thinking about during my sleepless state. My next step was defining the process my brain took, looking for hints to solve the puzzle (Note: I didn't cheat! It's a valid method!). While writing the aforementioned out, I was curious as to why my brain was acting in such an "irrational" manner. I proceeded to rationalize it (if not to you, then at least to myself) as being the unconscious and defining this to further my understanding of the topic. After realizing that my prior musings were actually my legitimate feelings, I analyzed them to see how they related. What I found was that they are all separate concerns of mine, but they caused me to see things that I would not have seen otherwise. If it hadn't been for the news of my uncle, I would probably be dreaming of being James Bond (Quantum of Solace was great in my opinion). Since I received the news, I began to let my mind roam. This brought up the different thoughts and led me to my goals of this note:
1) I managed all of my thoughts for myself. I organized them so that I could see them clearly, determine their source, and ultimately, find a better way to fix the worries.
2) I remedied at least one of the worries - my faith. People always say you should listen for God's voice. I was always curious as to how I was supposed to hear someone that was in Heaven (that has to be pretty far away). What I have discovered (I will either convince you to think the same or to think that I am crazy) was our unconscious is what we truly desire. These desires are communicated to us through our souls (more commonly referred to as the Heart). Our souls are in direct communication to God [this is how he communicated the innate and universal laws that everyone believes in: it is wrong to steal, kill, be cruel, etc. and if you feel like debating or furthering this particular section, please see Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis prior to confronting me). So maybe if we listen to our unconscious {our desires [our heart (to God)]} then we can listen to God (oops I just mentioned that... please note: I'm using my sarcastic tone) and we can progress in our faith walk.
If you actually had the patience to read this, congratulations... You just sat through an abridgment of my auto-biography: finished before any major landmarks were achieved in my life. For those who didn't: You now lack the key to your life - the unconscious... the link to what you truly want - God.
I just closed my eyes and my unconscious is thinking about sleep... I guess I know what I want.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Master of a Mind
Welcome to my blog. I'm going to be using this to articulate some of my views on the many developments in the United States, as well as find out "what makes me tick".
I had originally never blogged; however, after the numerous conceptions (some may prefer the addition of the prefix "mis-") that were formulated after our recent elections, I found myself yearning to have a voice, and let it (attempt) to echo as far as it possibly could. My immediate thought - the World Wide Web. What other expanse can vastly traverse the tests of space? Here, there are no bounds. No bounds to the infinite wisdom, connections, and (let's face it) endless amounts of procrastonatory implements (Note to parents: I am surely lying. Our generation has only used the Internet for the sheer benefit of enrichment. Scouts honor. *Footnote: I am not a scout).
Now this "voice" is a newly developed one. Never have I hea... (I will, from here on out, be using the verb had at the risk of sounding as if I have no friends) had such a strong utterance from inside myself. Anyone who has known me from the preoperational stage (Wiki: Piaget's stages - I told you parents that we use this grand thing for betterment) would tell you that I, Erik Renz, was as shy as they come. I kept to myself and shied away from speaking in front of people... or doing anything in front of people for that matter (I know I'm not making it sound better, but I promise I do not live the life of a loner). As the years progressed I came out of my metaphorical shell and became increasingly open. I began the "art" (I prefer personal entertainment, although it truly is an art-form) of dance at the age of 15. It all started after viewing You Got Served (which I believe is owed an overdue and allegorical Oscar). I joined my school's dance team at 16 and started gaining a little more confidence. You can watch the progression if you would like at www.youtube.com/user/erenz88 - and believe me... starting from the first video I posted to the last one... I could not even begin to communicate how to develop that much (I'm also not conceited. Forgive me if I come off that way. Someone once told me that all dancers are ego-centric... hmm.). Back to the topic at hand... this prodigious voice that bellows inside of my soul and the cause of my blogging. Through my dance (and countless individuals who I would like to thank) I have grown an unprecedented amount. This growth has triggered the "voice" inside me and gone are the days of a young boy; to fearful to stand out.
Now that I've informed you of how I overcame my nOObish ways and became a teh awesome blogger (yes, teh - pronounced 'tay' - is a word and so is nOObish... urbandictionary.com: the wonderful world of defining this generations made up vernacular), I will delve into the name. It came to me last night when I was starting the blog. I was thinking, "Maybe I could dub myself a Mastermind and say 'The inner-workings of a Mastermind'. But let's face it, there are probably much more masterful minds in the world and I've seen the inner-workings title used far to often. After that I broke down mastermind... essentially, the Master of a Mind. I do actually have a purpose to it though. Through this blog, I am going to attempt to comprehend my mind and how I think. If I can accomplish this, then I should in theory have no limits. Why, you ask? Well, Franklin D. Roosevelt once said: "Men are not prisoners of fate, but prisoners of their own minds". Thinking in this way, one can only be limited if they are fearful of the mind. If one knows the mind, they have no fear of the mind. Ergo, one who knows his mind, has no confines to what he can achieve.
And with this my blog is born. I hope you all enjoy this; if not... well it's an opinion and I am protected under the 1st Amendment (as are you if you chose to disagree). I only ask that profanity be kept to a 0 Kelvin (excuse the Georgia Tech Engineering side of me - by 0 Kelvin I mean absolute zero).
I'd like to close with one final quote. It is by Oliver Wendell Homes (one of the American fireside Poets) and goes as follows: "The mind, once expanded to the dimensions of larger ideas, never returns to its original size". If there is one thing retained from reading this, it should be to expand to larger ideas as much as you can. Never be fearful of the ideas not becoming reality. You should instead, be fearful of never letting the mind expand.
Thanks for reading,
Erik
I had originally never blogged; however, after the numerous conceptions (some may prefer the addition of the prefix "mis-") that were formulated after our recent elections, I found myself yearning to have a voice, and let it (attempt) to echo as far as it possibly could. My immediate thought - the World Wide Web. What other expanse can vastly traverse the tests of space? Here, there are no bounds. No bounds to the infinite wisdom, connections, and (let's face it) endless amounts of procrastonatory implements (Note to parents: I am surely lying. Our generation has only used the Internet for the sheer benefit of enrichment. Scouts honor. *Footnote: I am not a scout).
Now this "voice" is a newly developed one. Never have I hea... (I will, from here on out, be using the verb had at the risk of sounding as if I have no friends) had such a strong utterance from inside myself. Anyone who has known me from the preoperational stage (Wiki: Piaget's stages - I told you parents that we use this grand thing for betterment) would tell you that I, Erik Renz, was as shy as they come. I kept to myself and shied away from speaking in front of people... or doing anything in front of people for that matter (I know I'm not making it sound better, but I promise I do not live the life of a loner). As the years progressed I came out of my metaphorical shell and became increasingly open. I began the "art" (I prefer personal entertainment, although it truly is an art-form) of dance at the age of 15. It all started after viewing You Got Served (which I believe is owed an overdue and allegorical Oscar). I joined my school's dance team at 16 and started gaining a little more confidence. You can watch the progression if you would like at www.youtube.com/user/erenz88 - and believe me... starting from the first video I posted to the last one... I could not even begin to communicate how to develop that much (I'm also not conceited. Forgive me if I come off that way. Someone once told me that all dancers are ego-centric... hmm.). Back to the topic at hand... this prodigious voice that bellows inside of my soul and the cause of my blogging. Through my dance (and countless individuals who I would like to thank) I have grown an unprecedented amount. This growth has triggered the "voice" inside me and gone are the days of a young boy; to fearful to stand out.
Now that I've informed you of how I overcame my nOObish ways and became a teh awesome blogger (yes, teh - pronounced 'tay' - is a word and so is nOObish... urbandictionary.com: the wonderful world of defining this generations made up vernacular), I will delve into the name. It came to me last night when I was starting the blog. I was thinking, "Maybe I could dub myself a Mastermind and say 'The inner-workings of a Mastermind'. But let's face it, there are probably much more masterful minds in the world and I've seen the inner-workings title used far to often. After that I broke down mastermind... essentially, the Master of a Mind. I do actually have a purpose to it though. Through this blog, I am going to attempt to comprehend my mind and how I think. If I can accomplish this, then I should in theory have no limits. Why, you ask? Well, Franklin D. Roosevelt once said: "Men are not prisoners of fate, but prisoners of their own minds". Thinking in this way, one can only be limited if they are fearful of the mind. If one knows the mind, they have no fear of the mind. Ergo, one who knows his mind, has no confines to what he can achieve.
And with this my blog is born. I hope you all enjoy this; if not... well it's an opinion and I am protected under the 1st Amendment (as are you if you chose to disagree). I only ask that profanity be kept to a 0 Kelvin (excuse the Georgia Tech Engineering side of me - by 0 Kelvin I mean absolute zero).
I'd like to close with one final quote. It is by Oliver Wendell Homes (one of the American fireside Poets) and goes as follows: "The mind, once expanded to the dimensions of larger ideas, never returns to its original size". If there is one thing retained from reading this, it should be to expand to larger ideas as much as you can. Never be fearful of the ideas not becoming reality. You should instead, be fearful of never letting the mind expand.
Thanks for reading,
Erik
I'm going for less cliche...
in my title to this Note.
I, my friends, am American. I don't mean the normal definition of your standard American. I am that definition: a man, homegrown in this blessed (I'm going for iambic pentameter so read it that way) country. But this is not the point. I am looking at a different meaning of the word American. It is well suited for the term "American" to have many different meanings - we are, in fact, the melting-pot of the world. Why not have a word that is just as diverse and multifarious as the people that form our great country. And while we all maybe from different places, just as all of our citizens are, we are all united.
As for the definition I speak of, I mean it in a wholly political fashion. Now you may be questioning me about how American can be something you ARE in politics, but let me interject an enlightening story. A wise man once told me: "In abortion... there is no black and white" (a wise man being Greg Tepper - very intelligent and a great guy, and once... meaning yesterday. I guess I could say back in the day... since it was a Wednesday). Now before you judge me for going against my Catholic faith or have pugnacious thoughts - consider this scenario. You are married. The love of your life is having your first born child; however, you've just been informed that one of two things can happen: You can save the baby and lose your wife, or you can lose the baby and keep your wife. I was once posed this question and it shook my faith a little bit. I sat in wonderment as I found myself not jumping immediately to "No Abortion". After considering myself in this tragic position, I responded saying that I would have to let my wife decide. WHAT? Isn't that the democratic view? Am I not supposed to be a firm Republican - no to abortion, no to gay marriage, yes to the Death Penalty... wait death penalty? Do we follow so far? There is no right or wrong in any of these situations - at least for our human intellect. If anyone knows the right answer, we have to look to Heaven and fold our hands, "praying" (yeah.. i just "played" that word... okay time to quit) that God will grant us with the knowledge of what his will is. Maybe we are supposed to know the answer, but as for me... all these issues have a gray matter in them. There is some ambiguity that limits us from making the correct answer 100% of the time.
Now I have eased into my definition. Remember the slight moment of split personalities I just experienced... Republican or Democrat. Well... since that fateful conversation with Greg, I have determined I am my own party. I am my own unique party. I make my own decisions and I try to choose what I deem the best for myself, and for my fellow countrymen (women - men here is all encompassing of gender - Thank you Judy Wright). Some may call this party the Independent party, but I think a more suitable name is... (you have to know what it is by now) American. I call myself a member of the American party because that party is what America was based off of. Freedom. One word that has an incredibly ambient voice. This party allows you to have the freedom of choice. The freedom to choose for yourself; to be yourself. It gives a person the opportunity to be socially Liberal and economically Conservative. It gives a young man hope that he can do anything - and that he has the power to make the things he desires reality, no matter how incredible or daunting it might be. This American party knows there may be differing opinions in its party, but it knows that without everyone in its party, it is nothing.
That is what we are. We are all Americans. We have the power to choose. We have freedom (and while we are on freedom, let's not forget the extraordinary and valiant souls that are defending that right as I type this). Whatever you may be, I implore you to be American. Not necessarily my definition of a party but, at the very least, a member of our Nation.
For anyone who knows me, my mind likes to jump around and I'm sorry for taking you on a brief tour of my reflections, but it links together in my mind and hopefully it links together for you. The overall message is unity. Remember who we are and where we came from and what we have fought through (reference Mrs. Ann Nixon Cooper - President-Elect Acceptance speech). I know we may not all agree, and I certainly don't agree with everything that Our newly elected President has said, but I see two options. We can all pull together and rally behind our President or we can do what we've done for the past 8 years. Be either negative to, and disrespectful to, our leader or devout to him. I know we've tried one way... and another wise man once told me: “Insanity [is] doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results" (Originally: Albert Einstein, but passed on by my Dad).
Lastly: Thesaurus: Best thing to cure boredom.
I, my friends, am American. I don't mean the normal definition of your standard American. I am that definition: a man, homegrown in this blessed (I'm going for iambic pentameter so read it that way) country. But this is not the point. I am looking at a different meaning of the word American. It is well suited for the term "American" to have many different meanings - we are, in fact, the melting-pot of the world. Why not have a word that is just as diverse and multifarious as the people that form our great country. And while we all maybe from different places, just as all of our citizens are, we are all united.
As for the definition I speak of, I mean it in a wholly political fashion. Now you may be questioning me about how American can be something you ARE in politics, but let me interject an enlightening story. A wise man once told me: "In abortion... there is no black and white" (a wise man being Greg Tepper - very intelligent and a great guy, and once... meaning yesterday. I guess I could say back in the day... since it was a Wednesday). Now before you judge me for going against my Catholic faith or have pugnacious thoughts - consider this scenario. You are married. The love of your life is having your first born child; however, you've just been informed that one of two things can happen: You can save the baby and lose your wife, or you can lose the baby and keep your wife. I was once posed this question and it shook my faith a little bit. I sat in wonderment as I found myself not jumping immediately to "No Abortion". After considering myself in this tragic position, I responded saying that I would have to let my wife decide. WHAT? Isn't that the democratic view? Am I not supposed to be a firm Republican - no to abortion, no to gay marriage, yes to the Death Penalty... wait death penalty? Do we follow so far? There is no right or wrong in any of these situations - at least for our human intellect. If anyone knows the right answer, we have to look to Heaven and fold our hands, "praying" (yeah.. i just "played" that word... okay time to quit) that God will grant us with the knowledge of what his will is. Maybe we are supposed to know the answer, but as for me... all these issues have a gray matter in them. There is some ambiguity that limits us from making the correct answer 100% of the time.
Now I have eased into my definition. Remember the slight moment of split personalities I just experienced... Republican or Democrat. Well... since that fateful conversation with Greg, I have determined I am my own party. I am my own unique party. I make my own decisions and I try to choose what I deem the best for myself, and for my fellow countrymen (women - men here is all encompassing of gender - Thank you Judy Wright). Some may call this party the Independent party, but I think a more suitable name is... (you have to know what it is by now) American. I call myself a member of the American party because that party is what America was based off of. Freedom. One word that has an incredibly ambient voice. This party allows you to have the freedom of choice. The freedom to choose for yourself; to be yourself. It gives a person the opportunity to be socially Liberal and economically Conservative. It gives a young man hope that he can do anything - and that he has the power to make the things he desires reality, no matter how incredible or daunting it might be. This American party knows there may be differing opinions in its party, but it knows that without everyone in its party, it is nothing.
That is what we are. We are all Americans. We have the power to choose. We have freedom (and while we are on freedom, let's not forget the extraordinary and valiant souls that are defending that right as I type this). Whatever you may be, I implore you to be American. Not necessarily my definition of a party but, at the very least, a member of our Nation.
For anyone who knows me, my mind likes to jump around and I'm sorry for taking you on a brief tour of my reflections, but it links together in my mind and hopefully it links together for you. The overall message is unity. Remember who we are and where we came from and what we have fought through (reference Mrs. Ann Nixon Cooper - President-Elect Acceptance speech). I know we may not all agree, and I certainly don't agree with everything that Our newly elected President has said, but I see two options. We can all pull together and rally behind our President or we can do what we've done for the past 8 years. Be either negative to, and disrespectful to, our leader or devout to him. I know we've tried one way... and another wise man once told me: “Insanity [is] doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results" (Originally: Albert Einstein, but passed on by my Dad).
Lastly: Thesaurus: Best thing to cure boredom.
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