A Clean Slate
sometimes breakfast is so dern good. too bad college cafeteria coffee tastes like mop water.
prayed pretty hard this morning. something i haven't done for a long time.
yesterday i was running errands with my mom and while we were talking at dinner i noticed just how cynical i'm becoming. it's only natural to be a little negative, but lately i've sounded downright close to Gage (no offense, bud). i've been scanning things and looking for faults, as if simply recognizing them makes me stronger.
i've also been quick to judge and speak. i say things i don't necessarily mean, and some of it is really bad. sometimes when i get really mad i'll spout out something racist, even though i'm about as far from it as you can get. i can see why it is still such a problem, because for those who don't want to think things through it is really easy to associate a persons physical appearance with the stereotypes we are inundated with.
i'm finding that you don't just accumulate a big pile of wisdom and suddenly stop having to think things through to come to the right conclusions. I always had this image of the old bearded man who just automatically knows the right answers, and though I'm far from looking like that man, I've realized that it isn't just the beard that makes him worthy of respect. In fact, I imagine it takes him much longer to come to the right conclusions than it does for me, with so many experiences to sift through and so much to consider.
I don't want to be another fool. I never again want to say anything that I don't mean. I don't want to be that old man, I want to become him. Within me there is the capacity to do something great, and like everyone else I have to choose to work great good or great evil. Since few evil people believe themselves to be so, I will work hard early on to ensure that I don't confuse the two.
Throughout my life, I have gone through periods where I can't pray without feeling guilty. Periods where I know that I want to live on earth with reckless abandon, and that I'm only praying to remind God that I would still like to go to heaven afterwards. I ask Him for help, and then remember that I haven't so much as said Hello to Him in months. Like so many others, I am a hypocrite. I deserve my guilt.
As I sat down to eat this morning, I saw a young black man a little older than me across the room praying over his food, and I felt a warmth I hadn't felt in a long time. I was reminded of all the things I wrote above, and how I no longer feel any real joy. The warmth came back and I felt it would be good to pray, too. I did so, and the guilt was gone.
This morning I prayed for these things: Clear thought, level-headedness, for the holy spirit to rekindle in my heart and bring with him the conscience I once had, compassion, and for the ability to see past my initial anger and place it's source. I also said another famous prayer (one which, on a completely different note, I want to draw into a tattoo design): "Lord, give me the Serenity to accept the things that I cannot change, Courage to change that which I can, and Wisdom to know the difference."
To further develop things I know I've said in the past:
Perhaps there is no God, and I am simply talking to myself in a way that gives me peace and resolve. Perhaps the holy spirit is not real, and the compassion within my heart is the result of some electricity flowing through my animal brain. If believing in these things fills the void and shows me how to live well, then I have faith in them.
I will never put much stock in the technicalities of religion. I will never be able to fully overcome my desires as an animal. I will never be able to truly know whether or not I am right. We focus too much on the little things like whether or not it's a sin for a pubescent male to look twice at a female, instead of doing what Christ himself came to do: heal the sick. I don't mean that I want to go around tapping the blind on the shoulder and trying to make them see, I mean I want to talk to people who hurt and show them they are not alone. I want to be there for the ones without hope, just like He was. That is what this existence is about, and it's getting harder and harder to see. As the world gets older, and as technology advances exponentially, human contact becomes less and less necessary. The world will get smaller, and some people will embrace this and flourish as humans. Many others, I think, will become detached. They will feel out of place, and won't know why. How does one live by such an Example in a place where all your needs can be so easily met? How can you be a Light in the dark, when the dark has found so many other lights?
I don't know, I'm just a college kid with a killer ingrown toenail who wants to make a few people smile. I need to go study for Writing & Reporting, but I imagine I will have some more thoughts to share later (for those few people who would still bother reading all of this).
In summary: The streets of gold sound nice, but these streets of dirt need help.
prayed pretty hard this morning. something i haven't done for a long time.
yesterday i was running errands with my mom and while we were talking at dinner i noticed just how cynical i'm becoming. it's only natural to be a little negative, but lately i've sounded downright close to Gage (no offense, bud). i've been scanning things and looking for faults, as if simply recognizing them makes me stronger.
i've also been quick to judge and speak. i say things i don't necessarily mean, and some of it is really bad. sometimes when i get really mad i'll spout out something racist, even though i'm about as far from it as you can get. i can see why it is still such a problem, because for those who don't want to think things through it is really easy to associate a persons physical appearance with the stereotypes we are inundated with.
i'm finding that you don't just accumulate a big pile of wisdom and suddenly stop having to think things through to come to the right conclusions. I always had this image of the old bearded man who just automatically knows the right answers, and though I'm far from looking like that man, I've realized that it isn't just the beard that makes him worthy of respect. In fact, I imagine it takes him much longer to come to the right conclusions than it does for me, with so many experiences to sift through and so much to consider.
I don't want to be another fool. I never again want to say anything that I don't mean. I don't want to be that old man, I want to become him. Within me there is the capacity to do something great, and like everyone else I have to choose to work great good or great evil. Since few evil people believe themselves to be so, I will work hard early on to ensure that I don't confuse the two.
Throughout my life, I have gone through periods where I can't pray without feeling guilty. Periods where I know that I want to live on earth with reckless abandon, and that I'm only praying to remind God that I would still like to go to heaven afterwards. I ask Him for help, and then remember that I haven't so much as said Hello to Him in months. Like so many others, I am a hypocrite. I deserve my guilt.
As I sat down to eat this morning, I saw a young black man a little older than me across the room praying over his food, and I felt a warmth I hadn't felt in a long time. I was reminded of all the things I wrote above, and how I no longer feel any real joy. The warmth came back and I felt it would be good to pray, too. I did so, and the guilt was gone.
This morning I prayed for these things: Clear thought, level-headedness, for the holy spirit to rekindle in my heart and bring with him the conscience I once had, compassion, and for the ability to see past my initial anger and place it's source. I also said another famous prayer (one which, on a completely different note, I want to draw into a tattoo design): "Lord, give me the Serenity to accept the things that I cannot change, Courage to change that which I can, and Wisdom to know the difference."
To further develop things I know I've said in the past:
Perhaps there is no God, and I am simply talking to myself in a way that gives me peace and resolve. Perhaps the holy spirit is not real, and the compassion within my heart is the result of some electricity flowing through my animal brain. If believing in these things fills the void and shows me how to live well, then I have faith in them.
I will never put much stock in the technicalities of religion. I will never be able to fully overcome my desires as an animal. I will never be able to truly know whether or not I am right. We focus too much on the little things like whether or not it's a sin for a pubescent male to look twice at a female, instead of doing what Christ himself came to do: heal the sick. I don't mean that I want to go around tapping the blind on the shoulder and trying to make them see, I mean I want to talk to people who hurt and show them they are not alone. I want to be there for the ones without hope, just like He was. That is what this existence is about, and it's getting harder and harder to see. As the world gets older, and as technology advances exponentially, human contact becomes less and less necessary. The world will get smaller, and some people will embrace this and flourish as humans. Many others, I think, will become detached. They will feel out of place, and won't know why. How does one live by such an Example in a place where all your needs can be so easily met? How can you be a Light in the dark, when the dark has found so many other lights?
I don't know, I'm just a college kid with a killer ingrown toenail who wants to make a few people smile. I need to go study for Writing & Reporting, but I imagine I will have some more thoughts to share later (for those few people who would still bother reading all of this).
In summary: The streets of gold sound nice, but these streets of dirt need help.