Sunday, September 1, 2013

Insomnia

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It's 3am, and I can't sleep. (Isn't that a song title?)

To be honest, I've been having fitful sleep for the past couple of weeks, but especially these past three nights. It started out a couple weeks ago with being jolted awake a dozen or so times by the same dream over and over for several days. I'll be riding my motorcycle along a deserted street, and then out of nowhere, a truck, or a car will pull out in front of me. Or, they will drive straight towards me in my lane...I cannot swerve out of the way, and at the point of impact, I'm jolted awake.

I haven't told anybody this, because frankly, it's awful. And, I didn't want to cause my poor mother any more cause for concern. Needless to say, these days I ride especially carefully.

In addition to this, recently I've been having a few health problems and have been in to see the doctor more times than I would like. I think my medication, combined with stress, might be playing into my insomnia as well.

My brain doesn't FEEL tired, in fact, the opposite. As I sit here typing, it's roaring 200mph and is practically ready to run a marathon. However, my body is saying the stark opposite. One look at me, and you know that I don't look the best right now. My eyes are shadowed by giant dark circles and I walk with a slow meander, instead of my fast trot I'm known for. I'm exhausted...but sleep eludes me. Tonight, before I decided to get up and write, I was laying in bed thinking about quite a few things:

  •  To live life alone, without knowing that someone cares about you and your existence...what a dark world that would be.
  • I don't talk to God anymore. I don't feel God anymore. Have I ever?
  • When I'm tired, the slightest things make me cry.
  • My apartment is bloody hot
I don't have anything remarkable to say tonight. I don't even have fluffy adjectives to spice up this dullness. I simply have these honest sleepy rambles.

Good morning to my family on the East coast, and to my friends on the West coast, I hope you're sleeping soundly.


Sunday, July 28, 2013

Train Rides and Thoughts on Purpose.

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I have so much inside of me tonight, but I’m having a really hard time starting to write. Honestly, I’ve started and stopped, and erased, and started and stopped about 12 times. I have already broken my commitment to write everyday this year, and that sucks. Honestly the derail happened due to wanting to be intentional with spending time with the people that have been currently round me (and that doesn’t suck, FYI). For instance, my brother Scott visited from home, and instead of insist on taking time out of my day to sit down and write while he was here, I vowed to write a summary of the whole trip once he left. However, that will have to come later. As, right now, I don’t really want to write a summary about anything…I simply want to try and write out some of the things that are wirrrrring within my heart.

Who am I? What am I doing here on Earth? Why does it matter?

No really.

Right now I am currently typing on my computer while riding a train back into Los Angeles. There’s something about riding on a train that always propels me to want to write. In fact, I really like trains. Often, when I was a youngster, I’d imagine what it would have been like to live back in a time when trains were simply the main source of long-distance travel. You see, there’s certain elegance, or maybe it’s simply an over-romanticizing, that I feel trains possess. Regardless of whatever attachment I may have to this source of transportation, I cannot deny the fact that the gentle swaying of the car, and the elegant music swarming into my ears from my headphones, makes my current surroundings very conducive to wanting to write. Not necessarily being successful at the act, but desiring it nonetheless.

I struggle sometimes with caring. I honestly struggle with wondering why anything matters in the world. Why does it matter that I’m alive, why does it matter that you’re alive, why does it matter that I care about either? However, when you tell somebody those things, they tend to look at you with frightened eyes, suggest you see a doctor, and scamper off…not knowing how to address the seemingly dark and ominous questions you’ve presented before them. Is it wrong of me to think that my questions on this matter aren’t wrong? Is it wrong of me to feel like there must be people like me? Maybe they don’t struggle with these same questions constantly, but who feel the gentle heart-tugs that whisper every now and again “Does it…really…matter?” “Do you really matter?” What are you striving for? Really? Why? That doesn’t matter at all.”

I can’t be the only one.

There are times, like tonight, as the train lulls me into typing, that I feel so…lost. So purposeless. So utterly unresponsive to the whispers of beauty around me. And, I was doing so well for a while. I’ve been really intentional with seeing the beauty in the things around me, with making friends, with caring. And, tonight, the dark questions are slowly creeping in over the light. But, that doesn’t scare me. No. What scares me is the fact that I’m not scared. What scares me is the fact that I’m not sure if I should be scared or not.

I don’t think I’m depressed, but I do think I tend to let my mind wander to places that perhaps it shouldn’t? I’m not sure. And, I think that sometimes when I let my mind wander too much, the only things that seem beautiful, the only things that seem worth pursuing, are the ones that are far off. The ones that I cannot, for whatever reason, in this current time, have.

Tonight, my heart just cries out to feel the weight of the reality around me. I don’t want to struggle with the dark questions of purpose. Tomorrow, when I wake up, I want to feel the sunshine on my face, and see the beauty that spreads through the earth because of it. I want to hear a baby laugh, and be able to laugh with him. Not because I think he’s particularly funny, on the contrary, few babies are born of the immediate hilarious breed…simply because I want to be able to partake in the beauty of his innocent joy. This is not something that is easy to participate in when you’re struggling with the question of “purpose.”

Something that keeps coming into my mind are the words of the apostle Paul when he wrote to the church of Philippi: 21 For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. 22 If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! 23 I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; 24 but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. 25 Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, 26 so that through my being with you again your boasting in Christ Jesus will abound on account of me.

I know that I have several theology major friends, and pastors who might come across me taking this passage out of context and scold me for it. But, honestly, I don’t care. It’s what is currently the only positive thing rattling around my head and so I’m going to cling to it, and talk about it…in context or not.

I guess, the overall feeling I walk away from after reading this particular part of Paul’s letter, is the fact that Paul was struggling with what he thought his purpose to be too. And that’s reassuring. Or, maybe he wasn’t struggling with what he thought his purpose on earth to be, but maybe…the importance of it. He wanted to go home. Christi-summary: “If I am going to live on this earth, the thing that I have to focus on is Christ…but, selfishly, I really, really, really want to go home. It will be infinitely better to be home with Jesus, than it will be to be here on earth, in prison, and with you people who I have to write these ridiculously long explanatory letters to. I love you, but seriously, these things are long.”

Something in me resonates with this tonight. Honestly, I want to jump over the voluminous woman sitting next to me, stand up in the middle of the train aisle and bellow “WHY AM I HERE, GOD?! AND YOU” *points to loud lady up a few rows* “WHY ARE YOU HERE, AND YOU, *points* AND YOU, *points* AND YOU!? Do none of you stop to ask yourself why!?”

Gosh darnit, I do. I want to know why. I want to know why so badly. SO BADLY. And, I guess the only thing that I feel God saying in return is “Because. Honey, you are my example, you are my fingerprint, and for the current time that you are alive, I need you to represent me. I need you to be the evidence that this world needs.”

Would it be a sin of me to tell Him back, that tonight I don’t want to be? Tonight I’m not satisfied by that answer? That, tonight, I want to feel purpose here? Tonight I want to be able to look to the person on my left and say “Do you know how to feel purpose? No? Well, let me tell you, you feel it by doing A, B, C, and D...” But no. I can’t. I can’t, because I know without a shadow of a doubt that doing these things do not bring purpose… as much as I may want them too. I know that getting a job at Disney or Pixar, or having the opportunity to schmooze with some of the biggest and best in the industry doesn’t bring purpose. Why? Because, I’m doing those things currently…maybe not to the same extreme that some are, but I can taste it. The fulfillment of my dreams is on the tip of my tongue. And, I can promise you, although the flavor brings immediate temporary-satisfaction of self, overall purpose, and sustenance, is lacking greatly. So greatly, that tonight I felt the need to write it all out.

Tonight I want to go home. Tonight I don’t want to feel empty, and alone, or to be writing a stupid blog post on a swaying train regarding the fact that I feel empty, and alone, and feel purposeless. Tonight I want to understand what my greater purpose is for. Tonight I selfishly want to feel fulfillment from un-Christ like things. And, I don’t. And I never will… and, it frustrates me, despite the fact that I know my perspective is off. I’m weak.

I guess, I know that my conversation topics can be pretty heavy, but I don’t understand how some people can go through life and not have some of these questions. I don’t know why pastors, or highly intelligent people, when I bring these concerns to them, look at me with those scared eyes and say “Oh, well, maybe you should see a doctor, or a counselor, or…get involved with several of our woman community groups.” Pardon my French, but that’s complete bull-poop.

It’s time to get serious about some of these questions. About, purpose. About the constant struggle that we, as Christians, will always feel regarding purpose. The push and pull between wanting to be Christ’s fingerprints here on earth, to use our talents where we are…but also, the deep longing our hearts will ALWAYS have for “more”, for…home.

Don’t ignore those longings for more. Don’t write it off when you hear someone say “Oh, you’re wondering about why you’re here on earth? Well, that’s kind of dark, isn’t it?” No. It’s not. In fact, I wager to say that if you, as a Christian weren’t feeling those things or haven’t felt or thought through those things, then you haven’t really struggled with the idea of Purpose…or the idea of finding your identity in something other than the unimportance that surrounds you 95% of the time. And that, I would wager to say, is a far greater thing to fear, than those presumably dark thoughts themselves. Because, first off, I think there’s a certain responsibility that one feels and walks with, when they know what their ultimate purpose in life is. Or, they’ve at least begun to wrestle with it. Secondly, the fact that death itself, (the DARKEST earthly topic we as humans can fixate on) was conquered by our savior is something to be CELEBRATED, not feared. We have a brilliant flame of eternal hope, which can never be quenched by the darkest earth dark. We, have the ultimate reason to look death, and darkness in the face, and to smile with the assurance of eternal living with our Pappa. Why then, do we shy away from talking about it? Why then, do we shuffle people who are struggling with purpose, and with “I don’t feel like I should be here on earth” – questions, into fluffy support groups and watered down consoling. I don’t want watered down food, I don’t want watered down messages, I don’t want watered down advice, I want to hear the truth. Life sucks, purpose isn’t here. It’s as simple as that, People. If you’re struggling as a Christian because you feel a constant push and pull, by golly, please if anything, walk away knowing you’re not wrong to question these things…and you’re definitely not alone in your purpose pursuit. I for one, feel I will be struggling right along with you for the rest of my days.

Lastly, I’m ridiculously tired of having more purposeful exploratory conversations with my non-Christian friends than I do my Christian friends. I’m tired of not being able to openly talk with some Christians I know, about some of these “dark” thoughts I have, for fear of them not knowing how to answer me, because they’ve never allowed themselves to struggle to find their own solutions to these questions. They rely on the answers that they’ve been spoon-fed and that have been regurgitated throughout the years through their theology and traditions. I just…I for one, cannot not struggle with these things, and I cannot not admit that I wrestle with the idea of purpose anymore.

I recommend that everyone should ride a train sometime. Let your mind wander to places that many don’t suggest it to wander to. Allow yourself to ask hard questions. And, for goodness sakes, you tough question-askers, remind me that you’re there. Tonight, I desperately need to know I’m not alone.

Luffs and stuffs,


CP


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