If You Take Away Books: Just Read

In a world where we are using our thumbs for texting instead of turning pages, in a world where people would rather play angry birds on their iPad instead of get lost in a love story, in a world that no longer craves to open that first page and inhale the fresh "new book" scent as they so carefully put the first crease in the binding, some things have been lost. Imagination. Wonder. Timelessness.  

Books expand my imagination, which then formulate my own words on to paper, which in turn forces myself and others to think, which then result in growth and improvement. So if you take away books you take away the very part of my soul that strives for perfection. If you take away books, you will force me to settle for mediocrity. If you take away books you take away my sense of wonder. My need to find out more knowledge, more ideas, more viewpoints. And in turn, the more I find out, the more I realize how much I really don't know. But there is irony here because when I stop reading, when I stop searching, when I stop yearning, when I stop imagining, my soul dries up and only the mind takes over.  This is never good. Because the less I know, the more my mind thinks it knows. Then conversations become mundane and the simplest problem can expand into the most prevalent argument. Drama and kaos take over, time runs out too quickly, and I lay my head down on my pillow at night wondering if the conversations I took part in that day really improved my well being. No. Because I let my books get dusty, which caused my brain to soak up useless information instead, those found on flat boxes with talking heads, or robots with an iPhone addiction, or the latest scoop on celebrity gossip. When you take away books, you take away much more than paper filled with words. You take away our ability to converse, our ability to think, our willingness to improve, and you cause us to settle.

If you take away books, you have a world full of narcissists, walking around with phones enmeshed in their hands, and other people's ideas enmeshed in their brains. If you take away books you have a world full of people too busy to talk about anything deeper than surface level; if you don't have time to read, you definitely don't have time for "good conversation". If you take away books, you take away imaginations, people's ability to sit and day dream, to conjure up a story plot, a new goal in life, a good deed to perform. If you take away books, we will settle. I know we will settle. Because without books in this society, people will never know the stories of those before us. Those people who knew that pure timelessness will get you further in life than cramming your schedule with "things to do", which in the end are useless acts that somehow take priority to things that are important.

Consider yourself a seed, and your environment the soil. Without books raining down on you, shining upon you, causing you to sink your roots deep into the soil, all you will be is a seed, and all you will consider yourself is a seed, and you will only associate yourself with other seeds. And the life of a seed is all you will know. Your ability to grow will never be realized. You have the potential to flower, to branch, to shade others, if only you take the time to expand the mind. Sometimes the best education we can receive is the one we give to ourselves. Read, reflect, and soak up the world in a way that seems to be going extinct. Just read.

2013, Year of Cupid's Arrow

There comes a certain point in everyone's life when they look down at their glass of water, then stop mid drink, take a look around them, and have an epiphany, "There's something in this drinking water." I had this realization at about 7:52am this morning while standing at the sink in my pajamas. I spit out my water and quickly switched to coffee with this daunting thought in mind, "Kearney water, or maybe just Nebraska water, makes everyone fall in love and get engaged." Then, I looked at my City of Kearney bill sitting on the table, realizing the due date is drawing near, and see it yelling back at me, "You owe $72 dollars!" How dare you Kearney, make me drink your water and then charge me to potentially get engaged.

Okay so maybe that theory is a bit far fetched? But it's obvious that 2013 is the year of engagement and even weddings for that matter, or at least it is on Facebook terms. Beautiful rings and smiles, cupid hearts, flowers, skittle rainbows, bubbly wine glasses, unicorns, life events revealed on Facebook statuses, butterfly tummies, chocolate strawberries, high pitched giggles, sparkles and glitter, (I'm getting carried away aren't I?) Well, to say the least, people are in love around here. I just witnessed Bernard the squirrel pull out a ring while gracefully dancing among the branches outside my window this morning. Pretty cool seeing a squirrel get on his knee. He told Esther he would give her all the acorns in the world. What female squirrel could pass up that offer? Naturally she said yes.

Now I realize this story is written by a woman who has not been in a relationship since the school musical in high school, (even then, it was still just acting), so one may think this view is rather biased and all this sarcasm is just a way to disguise bitterness at the core. Well, good assumption naturally, but no. I just like to write stories. And this story has been waiting to be told. There is just so much love and romance in the air, so I had to address it. Now that I think about it, maybe there's a conspiracy theory the government is scheming. Could it be? Could all of you lovers really be secret agents in some sort of Engagement Conspiracy. You tricksters. Caught ya!

Since I was born in the year of the Dragon, the Chinese proverb states, "You prefer to be alone." (Which is ironically quite true most days). Thanks a lot mom and dad. And also, since Joan of Arc is my patron saint, that makes me a fighting single white female. You go girl. Oh sarcasm, how I love to insert you randomly. Anyway, if it isn't obvious already, I will not be joining all you lovers out there on your walk down Cupid Shuffle Road any time soon, but wanted to congratulate all my engaged friends, two who just happen to be my roommates, and do so in my own quirky way. I wish you all the best!

To the rest of you who find yourselves in the single status, remember this story next time you take a drink of water...

My Talk With God in the Mirror

I looked at myself in the mirror this morning, and saw the blemishes. They had come to visit like a thief in the night, stealing my pores and making it known that they found a home for a few days, a home that was really never meant to be theirs. I splashed my face with cold-water letting the water run down my chin; secretly hoping the uninvited guests would disappear with each drop. But even now, I know they will always show up at this time of the month. Then as I rub my eyes I notice they look a little greener, gradually slimming to brown right around the pupils. Today my face looks older; the bags under my eyes are more evident. Of course I've had my share of sleepless nights worrying, and those times of burying my head in the pillow so only the fabric and I knew I actually had tears to cry, otherwise it seems they only come out during funerals or when I have had too much poison in my belly. Well, and in the shower on occasion, I'm a woman. Today I look down at my hands as I put toothpaste on my toothbrush, my beautiful hands. They have been with me through so much, carrying the reins of many horse rides, shooting hundreds of thousands of basketballs, writing so many words, embracing countless hugs, touching ocean waves and city walls, turning pages of books to flood my mind with knowledge, and helping me carry the world with me wherever I travel. Because of them I have memories. My hands I have to thank for much of my success.

How many days have my hands tried to help cover these blemishes on my face, and accent the greenish brown colors in my eyes? How many times must I look in the mirror before I discover, my face is only my face and my hands are only my hands? My hands have been my greatest servants, and yet they can be so useless at times, those times I never seem to improve much. Those times when they shouldn't have shoveled another bite in my mouth, or brought another bottle to my lips. Those times when I have allowed fingers to intertwine with mine as though somehow that will cure the loneliness. In the end I know my hands are only trying to help, but they get in the way. I have become too familiar with them and what they can do for me and I forget about something that isn't tangible, something that is far from what my hands can grasp. My soul. Now, that is a thing that can be hard to get in touch with these days eh? After all, we cannot see our soul in the mirror every day, and I find it hard to tell my soul to fetch me a glass of water. However, behind every action my hands commit, lies the inner voice of my soul, either agreeing or disagreeing with the movements. It's not that we can't hear it because the voice is too quiet, no; the world has just become too loud.

I look in the mirror today and notice my hair has not met a pair of scissors in over a year and a half. Yes, this sight is frightening to any hairdresser but this stirs within my rattling brain a thought. What if our souls were worn on the outside, how frightened would we all be? What if others could see my soul the way they see my hair? What if those blemishes on my face could also be found in my soul? I imagine them to be dark shadowy places, with webs and dusty shelves above empty chairs; places we wouldn't dare let a visitor rest their head, not even with a flashlight in hand. So I look at my greenish eyes in the mirror and say, "Why not clean up the corners of my soul, the places I don't dare set foot because of my own insecurities and fears?" If I can wash my face every day, and spend money dressing up a body I have become all too familiar with, I think maybe, just maybe, I can give some more attention to my soul.

So I stared deep into those eyes this morning and said, "Body, I have experienced much with you. Itches, bruises, and scrapes, stomach growls, lovers' hands, wonderful food as it touched your toungue and drinks I cannot even name. I have experienced with you much pain from injuries and some pain from stupidity. Body, you have been with me through it all but too many times I have allowed you to be in control. You are greedy, lustful, lethargic if I allow it, you cry out to me for pain relief when you ache, you beg me to press the snooze button too many times, you tell me to give up when I am making your feet go faster than you'd like. You body, although I'd like to thank, I must also inform you, that it is time for discipline. Yes, I've tried before and failed, but my soul is strong you see. It doesn't quit. Souls these days are too submissive, letting the outer self control what lies within. I cannot let you, body, and let you take control of the part of me that will always live. In case you didn't know, one day you will be no more. Those dollar bills you keep in the bank won't matter, grocery store trips to feed your belly won't matter, the way you look in heels or the way you curl the hair on your delicate head won't matter, and yes, even the way you present yourself to others, well, that won't matter either. Unless...unless the way others perceive you becomes something more. Body, if someone can look into those greenish brown eyes and see my soul shine, then and only then should you be proud of what your hands are doing for you." 

Then I put my toothbrush back in its place and smiled, because it was then that I knew today was going to be a good day. My hands and I were off to do great things, letting my soul lead the way, and somehow my hands were found typing on this keyboard writing this short story. And now my soul has urged me to share it. The whole time I've been writing, my stomach ironically, has been growling for attention, but of course I chuckle silently saying, "Body, this time, your wishes come second." 

Thank you God for that conversation in the mirror this morning.

My Family of Origin

While gathering information about all the events that preceded my birth, and simultaneously going back into the collection of memories I have stored away, entailing any recollection of important events involving all my “loved ones”, I began to see my family as a puzzle. My perspective of this puzzle however, is not one that would be seen mounted neatly on a wall after each piece had found it’s perfect place in the scattered array of carefully carved out cardboard. My family is one that has in fact forced pieces together that maybe were not ever intended to fit. Edges are found next to edges while holes sit beside holes, barely holding them together by a corner. Some pieces were lost and later found while others tried so hard to fit into just the right place. There have been spills, scratches, markings and tears on every piece, some indeed more than others. Taking a long look at this dreadful, yet beautiful masterpiece is an astonishing sight. What I find most incredible is that through all the journeys this puzzle has made, storms it has weathered, lives it has touched, or rather lives that have touched it, each piece still remains intact, letting whatever part of itself reach out and converge the piece closest, as if it is the most natural thing to do. The concurrent fusion and separation cause the whole work of art to combust into a glow. No, my family is not in flames, but within each piece you can see a burning desire. Each desire is slightly different but it is evident each believes in something stronger and more powerful than they can fathom, and thankfully because of this, I have learned through much hardship and much love, the power of a family. And with this flame I feel so fervently burning within me, I plan to become more than just a spark, to eventually, as Great Grandma Lu said it, "set the world on fire".

Set the World On Fire

I recently returned from Utah, where I attended the funeral of my Great Grandfather in Layton. He was 95 years old and had been married to my Great Grandmother just over 74 years. I remember four years ago when they were interviewed and an article was published about them on their 70th anniversary it hit me that I was a lucky kid to be able to say I knew both of my Great Grandparents and the admirable accomplishment they had achieved. http://www.icatholic.org/article/couple-says-love-has-kept-them-together-70-years-5672428 The last three years I have been able to make a trip out to see them every spring, and get to know them as an adult; I hadn't seen them much since I was young due to activities in school and the busy life of a student athlete. I decided for Spring Break my senior year I wanted to go out and visit them. As a kid you have it set in your mind that people will live forever but I had finally realized differently after experiencing death on my father's side of the family. "Nobody lives forever and dying is inevitable", as Great Grandma told me the night before the funeral.

 Something she also told me, which is what sparked me to write in the first place was this; "I've known your Grandpa since high school. I was going to go to college and set the world on fire, but then I met him and everything changed. But you know, I think I did set the world on fire..him and I did...look at all of you...we did that." I looked around me just then, and realized what two people had done. Two people had created five children, eighteen grandchildren and forty-three great grandchildren. And more importantly they had filled us all with their love. If that's not setting the world on fire I'm not sure what is.

 This got me thinking on the eleven and a half hours I spent on the road home about what it truly means to set the world on fire. We all have these ideas in our heads about the great things we will accomplish as individuals, totally unaware that those things may not be what God has planned for us. I believe God places within each and every one of our souls a spark. It us up to us to control the flame. I think each of us has had events occur in our lives that have not gone how we planned, as with the case of my Great Grandmother, marrying my Great Grandfather. But we never see the big picture until later. Isn't their beauty in hindsight? So many times, when things don't go our way we tend to view them as bad, or disappointing, thinking of how it could be or should be. When we let the world weigh on us this way our flame cannot grow, it will have the opposite effect and they will be put out by the stresses of daily living.

 You know those people you meet that are just enthusiastic about life? The ones who when you look into their eyes you can feel the love pouring out of them, or when you speak to them they attend to you like you are the only person in the world at that moment. The people who remain so positive in every situation you start to wonder if anything could bring them down. Those are the people whom I believe are setting the world on fire and those are the people I admire most. I believe those are also the people who have seen some serious trials in their life. A spark cannot be ignited without friction. Trials are essential. If we are to set the world on fire we must know what it is like to step into the flame. The problem is most of us are content standing outside the fire, afraid of being burnt. But the challenge we face is not the fire itself but the truth found at the center of its flames. The truth is fire. God does not place the spark within us to make us comfortable. What person can say that they are comfortable amidst a fire aside from roasting marshmallows at a reasonable distance?

 He places in us a living fire of love. It burns if we allow it. It is not a destructive fire, but one that makes things bright and free. Dare to entrust yourself to the fire. Dare to face truth. Too many times we see fire as painful but it actually brings with it a peace. But we only properly comprehend this peace if we do not cheat ourselves out of pain or out of the conflicts that the truth brings with it. If we try to avoid conflict to insure that no disturbances arise anywhere, then we can no longer have an impact. We cannot set the world on fire if we cannot face it ourselves. The message of truth sits within the fire to conflict with our behavior, to tear us away from lies and bring clarity to our lives. Truth does not come cheap. It makes demands, and it also burns.

 I believe my Great Grandparents found this truth. As I was able to visit with them over the last few years they never once told me that their lives were easy. They spoke to me so honest about life, about pain and suffering, but most important of the laughter and joy. They were able to find humor in situations as they retold their past and did not dwell on the things they could not change. They took advantage of their time together and they were able to spread that love to every person in whom they met. Although I did not know my Great Grandfather as well as the rest of my family, my aunt and uncles, mom, their cousins, my grandparents and their siblings, I knew him enough to know he was dancing in the heart of the fire before he passed away. My Great Grandmother, is left to spread the flames of love to those around her until she dances her way to heaven to be greeted by, not only my Great Grandfather, but also the One who ignited the fire in both their souls.

 The both of them have created a great example for me in what it means to set the world on fire. May we all do the world a service and not be afraid to ignite the fire within us and dance within the flames. The first step, dare to face truth.