Friday, July 2, 2010

Unexpected Visitor Brings Breath of Fresh Air

The morning started out like any other in my tiny, cramped 1 bedroom apartment. Five of us live there at the moment - and for about another month - four adults, a very energetic seven-year-old, two dogs and a rambunctious kitten. We all woke up, and talked about how great it is to live in Corpus Christi over some sembelance of breakfast before everybody went their seperate ways to work or whatever this Friday was to bring us.


I stayed home with the few stragglers who had nothing planned. This is fairly normal and, since the recent Hurricane Alex, I keep getting phone calls telling me that I don't have to work at Jamba Juice. So, my days are fairly event-free for the most part.


The little girl in the house, Elizabeth, was bored. She's been in this state for about three days with no kids to play with and a very cramped house with no room to run around, so we decided to make her a scavenger hunt list.



ELIZABETH'S TREAURE HUNT



  • Find 5 different kinds of tree leaves


  • Find 5 different kinds of flowers


  • Find 1 bottle cap


  • Find 5 different kinds of bugs


  • Find 1 Treasure Box (you ALWAYS have to have a treasure box!)

And off she went, with her list of tresures in one hand and a treasure-hunting hat on her head. She popped back in the house every few minutes to show off her finds. About the third time she opens the door and shouts:


"Look what I found!!" In her hands was a dull, run-of-the-mill rock. Nothing special. It wasn't shiny or oddly shaped. It was just a rock. I went over to inspect it and share in her excitement. As she walked the rest of the way into the door, a massive butterfly floated over her head and into the house. Instantly all attention turned to the butterfly.


Including its wings, it was the size of my hand or larger. It was dark brown and, though it moved consistantly, it seemed peaceful and tranquil. It landed on a box, then on the ceiling, then it alighted on the windowsill. I was mezmorized. One of us pulled out a phone and quietly went to take a picture of the butterfly. At the click of the phone's camera, the butterfly gently rose into the air and over our heads.


Right into the ceiling fan, which was whipping around full-throttle in an effort to keep the house cool. There was a massive THUD and the butterfly was kicked back over toward the window. The noise attracted the attention of my rather impetuous kitten who imediately engaged in battle with the biggest animal he's encountered as of yet. Out came the claws and the poor butterfly's already battered body started to take a few more hits as we rushed around trying to apprehend the kitten.


We finally caught him and locked him in the bedroom so we could deal with our winged visitor. He looked alright except several small holes that peppered one of his wings and he seemd as if his head had been knocked around a bit. We opened a window and he flopped outside and took off into the open air.


According to many legends, butterflies are the symbols of change and the journey of the soul as we learn to accept change. This butterfly was going about it's life. It was so calm and tranquil, then it got smacked in the face by a ceiling fan going 100 miles an hour. And, though it's tranquility disappeared, it was replaced with single-minded determination to do what it could to save its own life. The change in it's condition, the fact that it might die, did not seem to even phase this little trouper. It seemed to recognize that panicking or worrying would not do any good against the tides of nature. It did what it could to save itself and left the rest in the hands of its creator. It seems as though there is much to learn from that giant butterfly and the chaos it caused in my house this morning.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Untitled

It's a comfortable smile
And faded blue jeans
A walk to nowhere
Serenaded by the chirping of crickets

It's risking being caught
For the best view of the stars
And knowing whatever happens
Will be an adventure

It's nobody else for miles around
And my feet out the window
Of a beat up Chevy truck
Driving just to escape the world

It's closing my eyes
And seeing
If only for an instant
The dirt road to the creek
Wheat fields
The smell of Alfalfa
Bill bailing our hay

It's pillow fights
And laughing until I collapse
Gaining breath to begin all over again

It's an unexpected kiss in the moonlight
And wondering where it might lead
Feeling strong arms
Refusing to think any further than right now

It's a trip to ice cream alley
After a day at the lake
And rambling in the mountains
Because we've nothing better to do

It's about those moments
When I don't have to long for freedom
Because I'm living it

Monday, September 21, 2009

Seasons of Life

"It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power."
- Alan Cohen
The world was meant for change, and with it growth. Seasons come and go - dispensing with the old life and creating new, budding life. With every season there is beauty: snow glittering in the full moon, the smell of summer on your skin, the enticing mystery of fall, and the new intoxication of spring.
Life is this way as well. The seasons of life, however short or long, have beauty within themselves, though they at many times do not feel beautiful. I am only in the first season of my life, when I look at the long run. 23 years is not a long time to roam this earth. There are many lessons I have left to learn, but this is the season of learning.
The college season is the time we set out on our own. We discover ourselves, how strong we can be and how weak we really are. We discover our true loves and our true hates. We discover the people we are supposed to be.
The season of love - new love - is much like spring. It is intoxicating. Consuming the entirety of our lives. Every moment is spent with that person. Every moment away is like a century. Everything he says is romantic, funny, or sweet. There are deep conversations that last long into the midnight - and the masks are taken away from our faces as we endeavor to reveal our true selves to this special person.
The season of breakup is equally full of feeling. The kind of feeling you wish didn't exist. Change. Fear. You take back up the mask - simply for survival's sake and continue on with a false stregnth. You see him - he's picked up the mask as well and you both see through the facades, though neither of you wishes to point out the falsity of the encounter.
Time moves on. Hurts vanish. Love fades. And you become stronger for them.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Society is Brainwashed

George Bernard Shaw wrote:

People will stand anything as soon as they are matured enough and cultivated enough to be suscepitable to the appeal of the particular form of art.
Shaw was speaking about theater, which in his day and age was changing rapidly from the traditional well made play to the more serious problem play. However, I wish to direct my thoughts toward society. Society shapes our perceptions of life. It shapes our expectations of life. It taints everything we see with either rose or black or clear. And just as Shaw states, as soon as people are matured enough (or brainwashed enough) they will stand anything.
You see a man walking down the street. He is dressed in rags, pushing a grocery cart with a towel wrapped around his head like a turbine. He mutters to himself and beggs change from you as you walk out of the gas station. You see a threat. A man who is different from you, probably wanting money for booze. Society has taught you that.
If you have ever been homeless or been friends with the homeless, however, you know that this man is simply in need of love. You can look past society's tint and see the reality of his need. Then and only then can you meet his need and be love to him.
Society tells us so many things about right and wrong, dirty and clean, acceptable and unacceptable, success and failure.
A professor recently asked us, "if marajuana were legal in the United States, would you use it?" It got me thinking - What makes it wrong? We use caffine to alter our states of mind. Or anything for that matter... how much do we let society dictate our thoughts and opinions about things?
Perhaps George Bernard Shaw's statement could be altered in this way to describe society:
People will stand for anything as soon as they are informed with enough propoganda, persuaded long enough and finally brainwashed enough to accept a certain point of view.