A Search For God

How on earth have we come to be in this black and white world? How have we lasted this long with a bitter taste in our mouth from all the modified crap served to us? From the government on down we are corrupt and we abuse and we know not what we say. This isn't a new concept or idea, it's the truth that never gets old. Sheer hypocrisy, a spitting of words to form a sentence that comes out as gibberish even to our own ears if we considered it. For a moment, take a moment, and think about the words that come out of your mouth on a daily basis. What are we doing with ourselves? Are we regurgitating words we've heard before? Well sure, we must go off something. The dictionary provides us with a helpful description allowing us to piece things together. What exactly is the meaning of all these words?

 Where are all these questions coming from you might ask? Fair question. At the same time, do you not also become overwhelmed with things or thoughts that have no apparent origin? Perhaps it has been stuck in our subconscious and we didn't realize it, or perhaps there's more players in this game of life than we previously considered. This, my friend, is where the search for God begins. How did I come to this conclusion? Not easily. In fact, it takes a deep sickness to put me in a position where i'm at a loss for words. It takes a skipping of my heartbeat to even consider something so crazy. The status quo comes right from the dictionary and all of our 'clever' catchphrases. Do we speak because we have something to say or to fill the void? Here, the void should not be seen as a morbid idea but one of hope and possibility. Only in this void, in this misstep, in this breath outside of an air-conditioned society do we have a chance at capturing something beautiful.

Beauty described as something that pleases the senses or mind aesthetically. It's my belief though, that words like this are not learned from an educational book, but instead from your loving mother. The flesh and blood of the matter is before us, holding our hand in this filthy mess. Your mother, your experiences, your thoughts; these things all make up this thing we know as life. There's so much more though. Be my guest trying to describe the word pain to a man lying on the sidewalk hiding from the sunlight, clutching his heart, wishing he could be filled with life. We shouldn't act like it's a simple definition, and we must not misunderstand this pain either. Look at a building being constructed and appreciate the endless hours of labor that went into creating something amazing. We too can be amazing if we appreciate THIS labor, this pain, here and now. Tears flow and lights are low as I write these words I desperately want to believe for myself.

Maybe that's what we say on a daily basis, words we aren't sure the validity of but really hope to be true. That's a bit of faith I suppose, a relying on something not clearly defined, a thought that arose from an unknown origin. God is that unknown origin. He is the void. He has already written the sentence that I keep trying to scribble out myself. I speak like I know God, but trust me, I have no idea. In fact, God almost feels like a new concept to me. But of course, like truth, it's nothing new and never gets old. My lonely bones are scraping against these four walls, these definitions, and these pre-packaged lives offered to us. I believe my words mean something. I believe your words mean something. I believe they always have, but sometimes I don't pay merit where merit is due. I don't appreciate the pain or the process of how we take one step to the next.

I must confess i'm an infant. My mother keeps teaching me new words, the most recent being 'prayer'. She said she has half of her city praying for me. And you know what, I believe her. I also believe that I need it. It's not just something nice to say to someone. These are words that go beyond filling the void, they help add color to this black and white world we're trying to survive in. Please hold my hand and don't let go, for I am in desperate need of help. I must confess this post has been written during an extended period of sickness and heavy prescription drug usage, but don't let that taint the message, the process. I ask again, how on earth have we come to be in this black and white world? How do we survive? We seek color and search for God.



*This attempt at making such a profound statement feels feeble, but like a river these words flow and I want them to be true. Take the words knowing they come from someone who knows very little, and someone that is just as lost as the next guy.

Honeymoon Phase

The thrill of new cities, new toys, new discoveries....it has its charm and then typically fades away like everything else. Only lasting but a moment in time, like the honeymoon, which of course is wonderful until you must inevitably return back home and go back to your normal life. Normal life, that can be tricky to look at in the eye, face to face. We must embrace it or check out. Don't think so morbidly as to think 'off' yourself. "Check out" could be defined in many different ways, and unfortunately the definition would involve the majority of the population today. Can I continue to face the day? To face this so called "normal life"? Or will I choose to check out?

Los Angeles is ever changing, under constant construction, with a diverse crowd and a widespread domain. It boasts a population of over 13 million people, which makes it the second largest city in the United States. The night life, the vendors, the music, the food, the celebrities, the sky scrapers, and so much more. It's dynamic, with each section of the city proudly displaying something completely different than the rest. The walk of fame and the chinese theater, just some of the many icons in hollywood. Don't forget about all the characters you meet on the street as well. The layout of downtown LA, however, is completely different, and full of interesting pockets. Each day I walk around downtown I find something different and new that I didn't know existed before. The markets, the art, the festivals, the business folk; they all make up the city. I'd like to say I always walk around with excitement and wonder of what I might stumble upon next, but honestly, it's all become fairly routine and mundane. This is what it's called to settle down I suppose.

This is what everyone dreams of, yes? Routine? They seem to thrive off it in fact. As long as you have your lunch at 12:30 on the dot, which consists of all the important food groups, except on fridays where you 'let yourself go' a bit. Make sure to finish work promptly to get your fitness exercise in and burn those calories! Nothing like a successful day in the office and then a bangin' workout session to boost morale. Later on maybe you'll hit the town with some friends, grab a drink during happy hour, and speak a little more openly than you usually do. This, you will do, for days and months and sometimes years on end.

Can I be honest. I just threw up. Have we lost all the wonder and mysticism of life? Are we so happy with routine that we will take it to our grave? Routine can be great and at the same time it can slowly destroy us if we let it take control. A man came up to me the other day asking for help, and then he apologized saying "i'm sorry, I know I wasn't a part of your plan today". All I could respond was saying in fact he was a part of my plans for the day, because we must expect the unexpected and embrace it. We must settle into certain living quarters sometimes, but that doesn't mean our hearts or minds should settle to an extent of restricting ourselves from true living and sharing and love. How will people eat if we don't feed them? How will there be change if we don't take a step? Life can continuously be thrilling if we let it. Don't compare yourself to anyone else, and don't make believe that mysticism is a fantasy in fiction novels. Mysticism can be reality, and it might even be possible to enjoy the wonder of a child once again.

I'm not good at settling into anything. I love the freedom of travel, what Glen Hansard calls gypsy privilege. It's great, because you experience so many different places and people, but it is only temporary. Isn't everything temporary? Yes and no. Some things and people will stick with me forever. And the only way that is possible if I make a connection with them that isn't easy. It's painful in fact. Places I miss. People I miss. Love that's been broken in a way. Perhaps there's a healthy way of settling. In fact, it took me getting very sick this past week to even consider this as a possibility. It sounds silly to say, but I finally sat down and didn't DO anything. I just layed on the floor being sick and feeling bad for myself, but through that I finally started taking care of myself. Which led me to appreciate being settled and also allowed me more opportunity to help others, now that I was becoming more healthy both physically and emotionally.

I hope you're able to settle in a healthy way, and realize that being on the move too much can be dangerous if you don't take care. So enjoy the things of life, take notes of your daily thoughts, find the wonder in the sunrise through the trees, and take care my friend. May you walk in peace and good health. Treat each new day as a wonderful surprise, and hold close to those you love.