Thought Into Existence – The 100th

Here’s the second of previously started writings that I never got around to posting. This, I believe, came from early September of last year.  Why did I choose this one?  It’s a fair question.  I think it’s rather significant, and there’s a lot that goes into thoughts.  This of course becomes personal, and possibly egotistical, but ah, perhaps it’s time you met more of who I am.  As I’ve reached this kind of milestone, I think it’s due time for some memories and that oh so fun and lovely thing known as nostalgia.  With that, I begin.

~

“We’ve stumbled upon something.  Because God is unceasingly thinking about us, we continue to exist.”  Approximately what my best friend said, though with less of her finesse or characteristic speech patterns.  It’s highly likely that I just did both an injustice.

A while back, we were discussing superpowers, of all things, and the idea of being able to think someone to you.  However long you’re focused and thinking about them, they remain present, and it’s only when they leave your mind that they return to wherever they were.  Naturally, this power is something that should have a number of caveats, like some amount of control as to when it works, otherwise you might have dozens or even hundreds of people popping into existence next to you for the briefest of instances.
Though of course, my mind would definitely turn its attention to such individuals, and well, there goes my peace and quiet.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about… people… a lot.  I guess it’s just in our human nature, to have others on our minds.  My time at work is devoted to focus on people.  There’s that connection that every interaction needs to have, and it’s truly a life skill to have, being able to touch people with the most basic of things.

Well, what more basic and heartfelt way is there than a prayer for them? That’s often what happens at work. Whenever there’s a lull in the number of incoming guests and while I’m maybe cleaning or restocking something, I might ask that my mind be focused on who it needs to.

An odd feeling, instinctual in nature, was what struck me.  It was at 5pm today, and I had no idea what caused it.  There I was, having an immensely enjoyable time at work, when suddenly I felt it internally, like a shiver that lacked the icy surroundings.  It’s hard to be sure, but I knew in that moment that something wrong had happened somewhere.
I couldn’t be sure if someone I knew had been affected, and so I did the only thing I could: asked God to help… someone out there.

*The physicality of my power is of course, limited – but by the universality of the Church, I can go quite far indeed. This is perhaps part of the beauty of faith, that we can believe and hope in goodness, even if we might never see the results of that which we hold to.

It’s like… Legacy. You don’t get to see what remains in the aftermath of your leaving, in your wake. Lots of people are concerned with what sort of mark they’re leaving, what lives on beyond them.  I can only hope that I make a good impact, whether physical or spiritual.  I want to bring my loved ones home with me.  I don’t want to lose them.  That’s the mark I wish for, the mark of those I surround myself with, living evermore.

~

When I started writing this blog roughly four years ago, I never thought that I would end up where I am today.  If I try to think back and remember what I was concerned about at the time, it was probably the next fun Scouting activity I would attend, or perhaps the upcoming youth group meeting with 1×1 at Saint Maximilian Kolbe, or maybe not looking dumb in front of some girl I was trying to impress.

Back then, I was more girl crazy than in recent times – shocker, I know – and I do apologize to anyone who has seen me in such a state, at any stage of my young life.  In conjunction with that, I was a more violent, more boisterous, and more brash character, things which I must again apologize for, as they are traits not yet vanished from who I am.
Still, there were positives.  I was a more avid reader, a person who was keen on drawing and making art in various media forms; someone who was not easily distracted or dissuaded from any goal, no matter how preposterous.  I loved really getting outside and breathing life in; not taking the heavens down to me in my confinement, but instead shooting upward to place myself among them like the many skyward sparks from the fire that I built with my own two hands.

Over the years, with each piece of media absorbed, I began to take on different characteristics of the people I saw, both fictional and not.  I believe I’m a very “feely” person, a very empathetic fellow, and oftentimes, being that sort of character can get me into good and bad mindsets.  In time, I took on the fun childishness of the Doctor, the witty cynicism of Fish, the imagination of Rose, the determination of Will, the rage and guilt of Batman and Daredevil, the force of Kestin and Edict, and the foolish hope of… oh, that might actually be mine.

The point is, I’ve changed, and more than I could have expected.  When I began, all those years ago, I never expected that leaving Scouting would push me onward to new adventures in Trail Life and Saint Gertrude.  The funny thing is, when I worked at Camp Friedlander, during staff week, we took a trip to St. Gertrude’s for an early Sunday Mass, which was one of my first experiences with the church.  And again, St. Gertrude’s returned when my older sister was leading me and my peers through the Ad Altare Dei religious emblem program, when we went there for vespers with the brothers.  Again, a third time, when my family was exploring different parishes, it almost became our home parish.  Almost.  And I think there was a very good reason for it not being so.

The reason?  If we had taken to Saint Gertrude, everything that is now, College Kenosis, my membership in the UC Society of Saint Paul, my role as an Altar Server at Annunciation, all of that would be nonexistent.  Perhaps even Eagle Eye would have been lost.  I can look back on those moments now and understand why things went a certain way, I see where the Spirit led me on this long road.
Thus, with the present hardships I’m facing, I can hope for the day that I get to look back on those and say: “Yes, this led me to the great here and now, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

I’ve been fortunate in my life to have been a part of many great communities:  Tang Soo Do, Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, Sacred Heart of Jesus Homeschool Group, Kali, St. Max, The RPG Group, Trail Life, St. Gertrude, my year’s P&G Resident Scholar Program family, Chick-Fil-A, The SSP, Eagle Eye and my fellow Eaglets, the CState Crew, and others that I’ve forgotten.

They all had or currently have their turn in forming me, and the people I have met have been guides, friends, and companions all.  I’ve lost a lot of them over the years.  Some faded from memory, some through my own fault, some with a heartfelt farewell, and some with a promise of renewal in some future day.

My legacy, my very heart, has been in my friends and family.  That’s why I think of them often, why they still exist to me in all the greatness that I knew them as.  They have been and always will be my spirit, and my strength is in them, no matter how much they change and vanish into their own futures, their own separate paths, and no matter how weak I myself become.

The weight of life is heavy, and it is painful to carry alone, we all know this.  As I’ve changed, feeling a strange vulnerability that I hardly experienced in younger years, as my eyes were opened to this world I live in, others were my guardians, and they saw me through the most desperate of times.

That’s who I am.  I am many, yet one.  I am the amalgamation of my experiences, I am the countless lives I have dreamed, but most importantly, I am the son of the Most High.
I am… Migi.

To everyone in my life, thanks for being part of my journey.

Heart Unbound

Closure.  That’s the word.
As hard as some things are, it’s always more difficult without closure.

If one reaches an end and receives closure, it’s quite the gift.  Some would rather do without it, but in many cases in life,  I think it’s worth it.  It’s the lightening of the heart from a weight you never really realized was there to begin with.  That’s what the gift affords you.

I’ve lived nearly two decades, and I’ve made many mistakes, some of which I will forever wonder about, but just this once, I’m not left without a clear finish line.  A clean break on the path, as it were; another marker to reference and be sure of as the next move is made.

Oh, there is or was pain involved, most of which I made myself, but it is outweighed somehow.

How?

Here’s the thing:  I’m not someone who thinks of happenings relating to one’s life as coincidences;  I take it as the Spirit reaching out to me.  Well, as far as noticing the signs, I believe it’s the Father pointing them out and teaching me; when I actually move and take action, I reckon it’s the Spirit working.

Before I saw all these… promptings… I felt overwhelmed, filled with a storm of anger thoroughly unwarranted by the situation.  My mind was more of a mess of emotion, fueled by a sort of buried madness.  Anyone else’s brains ever start to go into overdrive, becoming a blur, at which point hardly any coherent thought comes through?  That’s where I was, often.  I’d lost my sense of focus, and it became apparent throughout the days as I tried to work on a number of projects.

~

Maybe it was an experience at Mass… no, it was.  I remember it.  The first sign.

Father’s homily was quite the kick in the face, but it didn’t start there.  That Sunday, I felt more attentive to praying the Mass than I had in quite a while.  Reminds me of a quote from St. Irenaeus, actually (though there is some debate on whether he said it exactly or not).

“The glory of God is man fully alive, and the life of man is the vision of God.” and that’s what I felt.  As if all my senses, hampered by worry – not just over this one failure on my part, but also a number of matters related to my schoolwork – were kicked up several notches and suddenly unburdened.  I was able to see and pay attention to everything, but not be distracted by it (which is how I normally am at Mass, unfortunately).  This time, I felt right at home, truly in communion.
So when it came time for the homily, a time when I tend to zone out because of how hard it is to hear Father from the altar (shh, don’t tell, I do try), I was so there.  Amazing how God speaks if you actually listen to/for His word *coughs*.

Father’s homily spoke of finding three things, well, finding two things and doing the last for both of them:
-A companion
-A teacher
-Giving them a break

For this, I’ll focus on the things that really hit me in relation to what was happening, which were the first and last items on that list (the second – I’m pretty sure – is a push to continue my hunt for spiritual direction).
I’d heard it before, but he made note of the fact that John the Baptist sent his disciples to Christ.  Good companions lead one another on a journey of growth, with Heaven as the high goal.  Further still, he noted how Christ gives us specific companions, and… because they were given to us by Him… we shouldn’t easily turn our backs on them.
In a finishing blow, Father turned to the subject of expectations of others, how they won’t always meet ours, and sweet glory, how we’ll never meet theirs, so for Heaven’s sake… Don’t.  Give up.  Based on that.

Now, I must confess, I ignored this push for a bit, and as another day or so passed, well… it was St. Mother Teresa’s turn to smack me across the face, as I scrolled the endless Instagram feed:
“Do not wait for leaders; do it alone, person to person…”
Because that’s what I’d been waiting for.  Initiative from someone else, anyone else, so I wouldn’t have to move on my own.  Did I mention I’m a prideful person?  It was pride that was keeping me back from admitting my failure, unwilling to admit that I remained restless in guilt.  And so… in response to that, God made me see the caption underneath the St. Teresa photo, from Mother Angelica: “… start looking into your own life and attacking your pride in all of its many forms.”

So that’s two mothers smacking me upside the head.  A trinity of smacks to the cranium, if we add Father’s words.

~

Suffice it to say, I did what I felt was right, this time with surety that I don’t normally have.  And when it turned out the way it did, when it was over, I ran.  Not away, but to.
I ended up in adoration, and it was the best decision I’ve ever made in my life.  The chapel was mercifully empty, and there I stood before the tabernacle.

Those moments will forever remain locked within me, like a calm fire; not deadly or destructive in its ways, but comforting and warm.  It was my turn to make a promise.

And so with clarity, and to quote Venerable Fulton Sheen, I say: “Sometimes the only way the good Lord can get into some hearts is to break them.”

There, I admit it.  I have a heart, and it’s broken.  Don’t look at me all funny, I’m not made of stone.  However, the gaps are closing, and faster than I expected, to be honest.  Because right there, in the immediate aftermath, I can look back on what took place and see why God drew me back one last time: to right the wrongs, to fix what I had brought to ruin.  To leave this artwork at peace with it and move on.  Because it isn’t terrible, it isn’t faulty, it is… a beautiful ending.  And oftentimes, you’ll find that the most beautiful endings are the ones that cause the greatest pain.

So I’m beginning.  I am… me.  I do have an idea about where to go, placed in me during what I now consider another era altogether.  Who by?  The voice, the whisper that follows me beyond the bounds, guiding me forward.

Am I a good man?  Let’s find out.

-M

Shatterpoint (An Analogy)

Hello, 2017, you’re an odd kettle of fish.

Perhaps it’s time to come back down off of that ethereal plane of a new year high and reconsider things.  I’m trying to break out of a bad habit… again.

The habit in question is… wait for it… you’d never believe me if you knew me in the past… oh… 6 months or so… video games.  Dun dun dun.  Oh, the horror!  So, as you can probably tell, it’s severely hampered my writing abilities in this mind-numbing fashion that brings out all the animalistic instincts I normally try to dissociate myself from.  Did I use that word correctly?  Oh well.

My point is… I need to get back to this.  I need to retune my skills like one attempts to tune an instrument (which I’m terrible at, ask any of my siblings).  And what else to bring me back to writing but a sobering, earthly subject?

I confess, I used a particular video game as an escape route, *cough* Shadow of Mordor *cough* thinking it quite cathartic in venting streams of anger that I didn’t quite know what to do with.  Am I an angry fellow?  I like to think I keep myself rather even tempered, but I’ve been prone to odd outbursts lately, and here’s where things actually start.  In the spirit of years’ resolutions, we’ll take the examples of goals for this, seeing as that’s basically what I had.

I had several goals this past semester, this past year, these past days, to reach a point regarding a matter rather… important to me.  So, in pursuit of that goal or that point that I saw as success, I kept hacking away at this wall of things that stood in the way of reaching that place.  As it turned out, well… the wall was much more solid than I imagined, and what had been envisioned as success rapidly turned into a nightmarish attempt to reach the other side.

I was left angry and bitter at my failure, and as such, sought an outlet.  Several outlets, actually.  And after each outlet, I thought I saw a glimmer of the far side of the wall, perhaps closer again than in truth.  I started once more at the wall, again and again, until at last, I saw that my efforts were fruitless in the extreme.  So… I tried to leave the wall.

Did I succeed?  I’m not quite sure just yet.  The heart is an odd thing, and memory another.  To cherish the latter has often led to a great distress in the former, at least in my case, but still I do it.

Why do I tell you this?  Well, indulge a young fellow, but I put this out here because I’m hoping I’m wrong, in a way.  If what I speak of seems unclear, garbed in analogy as it is, I do apologize.  My emotions hamper what I say more effectively than the shouts of a thousand men.

There is a point where one’s emotion must bow to reason.  When one has tried over and over to reach something that perhaps (I say perhaps, as one has yet to see) is not beneficial to the soul, to the ultimate goal of reaching Heaven; when one has experienced a greater negative outcome than positive by that continued attempt… perhaps it is time to conclude that the hope was in fact flawed.

Hope is not flawed, hoping in something in which one should not however, is.  I have tried, time and again to reach what I saw as the greater good, per a promise I made.  I met the wall.  Efforts met with the blank silence that comes from futility.  Oh, there may have been a few sparks as I battered at it, but no true persevering light.  Of course, there is the possibility that I went about it the wrong way.  I am a swordsman, so let’s take that analogy.

The approach I took by the way of the sword left no truly visible mark on that impenetrable wall; indeed, it only led to the blade growing duller with every attempt, and at last, that blade which I thought would hold forever shattered.

Maybe I used the wrong tool, maybe the wall was never mine to break through, but I think that I ask the questions of myself too late.  I lost, in those terms, and hopefully I’ve won in others (heh, see below).

 

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My personal seal I made, which I realized too late was a bit stubby.  But I succeeded-ish!

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Took me a good five attempts to get that right.  First I did it reverse, then it was too shallow, then it wasn’t showing up so clearly in terms of width (the picture doesn’t show the final product, unfortunately), then  it was too shallow again, then finally I found the right look.

 

The lesson I hope to take from it, for everything must be learned from, is to know when to change course.  Steer the car another direction as it were.  This road I’ve walked or driven might have been good and right at one point, but… maybe it’s not the case anymore.

We all have to face things like that at some point in our lives.  It’s kind of a downer, but it’s true.  The thing is, we must pray that we have the grace to know when to live with the consequences… and move forward (bit of Flash there for ya) from what we once thought was right for us.  That’s not to say it won’t ever be in the future… but at the moment… let it pass, into the west (them LoTR feels).

And also:

“Things end… that’s all.  Everything ends, and it’s always sad.  But everything begins again too… and that’s always happy.  Be happy.” – The Doctor

-M

Chasing Perfection: A Brief Note

I’m going to make a bold claim, as an older brother ten years removed from my sibling, that it’s hard to relate to him.  Perhaps I have forgotten what it was like, being that age, and seeing the world in that different way, that mixed bag of extremes and simple, innocently testing fun.  Today, the reality was brought home that perhaps I still am very much like him after all.

See, it’s not often that I actually talk with my little brother, no, on the contrary, I half-heartedly listen at the best of times and ignore him at the worst.  There’s that to add to my list of faults.  I realize that interests change with time and age, yet if I could go back in time and look forward, I would be astounded at how little interest I now show in those little adventure books, in card games like Pokemon, or even in building with LEGOs.  Yeah, that last one is an actual problem.

So today (realize I began this the day of, but failed to see it through until now), after seeing him moping about on the couch for some odd reason (I assumed that he didn’t want to eat his lunch), I decided to talk to him to try and persuade him to get ready for an activity he had later.  As it turned out, he wasn’t sad for that reason at all.
No, what was causing distress was a picture he’d been drawing.  I believe the one in question was of a car, and he’d grown frustrated with a wheel’s roundness of all things.  Ah, if only the worst of my drawing problems was a lack of circular perfection!  He was beating himself up about it, burying his face in the pillows of our couch.  When I got to him at last, he was tearing up a bit, saying he’d never be as good as well… me.

It’s an oddly vicious cycle of comparison.  To compare to those we see as great is a balance, and I’m sure most would agree.  We tend to be partially inspired, and more often than not, discouraged!  Especially when we perceive a gap in what we have versus what they have.  So when I sat down next to him to tell him how I wasn’t the greatest by any stretch of the imagination, I could truly understand where he was coming from for once.  It was one of those situations where nothing is lost in translation, and one aspect that – unfortunately in certain senses – is not lost as we grow.

We lose heart when we realize that we either have a long way to go to reach what we perceive as great (which, by the way, might change to passable in our eyes when we actually get there), or simply think the task impossible.  One of those times where the word “never” comes to mind.

Is perfection subjective?  I don’t think so.  The word for that is perhaps the ideal.  What to us is the ideal, the standard by which we measure success?  I’m sure we can all think of answers to that.  The ideal picture of life… the life I can pretty much guarantee we won’t ever have.
Perfection on the other hand, is – I believe – objective, but there are many roads to that singular goal.  One only has to take the Saints.  So many unique travels, yet they came to that perfection which is holiness.  Unity with Christ.  Oh, to only truly long for such a thing.

However, to make the most and best of time on earth, I have some word of advice, and honestly, a bit of self-motivation at this point.

Don’t get lost in chasing an image.  Have an ideal, have a goal, sure, but don’t forget your own unique abilities.  While you may find a whole number of similarities between yourself and someone else, don’t try to become their carbon copy.  I know that’s easier said than done, but all we can do is our best, right?

It’s like my old gaffer said… no I’m just kidding, this awesomely hilarious priest said something similar is all.  To paraphrase for universality’s sake: “We are not called to be Saint Therese, or Saint Padre Pio, or Saint Josemaria Escriva, or – you get my point.
We are called to be Saint _____.”  So put your name there, sign that line (for those with longer names, I am so sorry that it’s a tiny line), make the commitment to strive for it.  It is beyond imperfect ideals, beyond the standards set by this flawed world.

I don’t say that to push you to sacrifice the pursuit of good and beautiful skills such as art, writing, leadership, a career, and all that.  No, not at all.  All I mean is that… there is more to our destinies than that.

So to return once more to the picture of my younger brother in distress over his artwork, we all have to start somewhere, right?  Should I have told him that this question of “can I ever be good enough?” would never leave him?  Did I perhaps give him false hope by encouraging him to move forward, and just draw and draw, over and over?  Should I have taught him that he would have to do the same with every step of his life’s journey?
Because you see it now, don’t you?  Life is the canvas, and we’re all artists.  And maybe we have some idea of where the line will fall, maybe we already have an idea of what we want to draw out… but we can never be sure until it’s truly on the page.

– M

P.S.  My bad, I did say it would be “brief” in the title.

Old Habits Die Hard

High school is over!

It’s off to new adventures.  The summer, the excitement, the thrill of the warm air as it rushes past.  The light of a new moment, another journey.

I could go on, but I’m sure most people know the feeling, so I won’t bother rehashing it here.

College as a HS senior was an interesting undertaking, I will say that.  Professional Practices was – surprisingly – a favorite class of mine, and I enjoyed it immensely.  The same was true for Drawing and even Interpersonal Communication at some points.
It’s surprising how quickly it all went.
Now I can actually begin.  This is it.

I’m still me of course, constantly looking at what could be, and not really liking the fact that a lot will have to change if I’m going to survive.
It’s hard!  Change is hard.  Probably why I haven’t touched this blog in ages.  It was a relatively new experiment for me, and then all sorts of other things started to become the priority.

I started working and became a “contributing member of/to society” (as my friend likes to say), I’ve been constantly preparing for the summer and several retreats I’m going on; trying to get classes scheduled despite hiccups with adviser appointments and final transcripts; trying to keep in touch with the friends who will be leaving or I haven’t seen in a while, and trying not to be lazy and sit on my computer all day (I’m working on breaking the cycle… after I finish writing*).

Even that odd story I was trying my hand at has lain untouched for a good 5 months or more.  Maybe.  I might have last written in February actually.  The point is…

Time is… extremely fragile.  Fleeting.  Momentous.  Slowly turning.  I could go on for a bit.

High school was an 4 odd years; quick to go, with oddness, awkwardness, and yeah okay, the occasional great moment.

I’ve been gifted with great friends who I’ll probably rarely see, been through some adventures of the dancing type, the biking type, the camping type, the ceremony type, the working type, and just the ordinary… type.  Clickity clackity, there go my keys.

What can I possibly say at the end of such a thing?

I have been and still am grateful for that time that I’ve had to continue in growth, and as with any large turning point, it’s now back to the drawing board.

It’s like a new year’s resolution, but not really.  Brains be filled with balderdash.

Goal setting is the term I’ll use.  I need to be… realistic.  Write it out.  Keep it in view, otherwise I’ll forget, and there it goes!
Good grief, I just need a sticky note that constantly (and automatically) changes positions in my room so I don’t get used to its placement and inevitably forget it.
Someone get on inventing that.  I might pay for it.  Maybe.

Right, here goes!

  • Work on this blog (redesign, write posts, get with the program)
  • Edit and take pictures and constantly work on building up a photo album to look back on in the future
  • Journal more about momentous moments in life
  • Write my book (and hopefully finish it before the end of August, because good heavens I’ve been dragging it out)
  • Make time to read good books!  I haven’t finished a heavy book in a long while…
  • Draw (charcoal, pencil, pen)
  • Get more active by biking around or taking a stab (heh, it’s funny because I totally have a training knife) at the punching bag.  Maybe even do pushups on a regular basis again.  That way next time there’s a hike, I’m not the slowest man alive.
  • Write letters to people, because it’s the only heartfelt way I can probably keep in contact without being that guy who just shoots a random text now and then… ah sadness.
  • Keep my area of study (i.e. my room) clean.
  • Learn more swing dance moves so that I’m not a one note person thingamajigger.
  • Listen to and discover music other than Hamilton (although to be honest, despite the language it has that I disapprove of, it’s pretty addicting).
  • STOP WATCHING RANDOM VIDEO GAME PLAYTHROUGHS AND SCROLLING THROUGH FACEBOOK ALL THE TIME.  HEAVENS KNOWS THAT’S MY LIFE I’M USING THERE (pardon my rant at myself).

Well, there you have it folks, my madness on display.  Not like that was never the case, but sweet glory…

Consider me returned.  In a way.  Don’t think it’s too permanent.  Still getting back into the swing of things.

-M

*Blah writer’s block, but…

The First Day

Well, here I am, in college, sitting in one of the cafeteria… things.  Bakery Hill, to be exact.  Brilliant place.  Very cozy, well, mostly cozy.  With a first class at 11am, I’ve got quite a bit of time before I need to get anywhere.
I appreciate the fact that my fellow college…. goers… keep to themselves quite a bit, but it’s less lively than I’d like.
I partly feel like moving to a more secluded area, partly like suddenly attempting to joke around with random people.  That part of my psyche, for the sake of my psyche, I shall stifle.

It’s interesting to observe the things happening around me.  A whole range of cultures all together, simply… being.  I think I’ll enjoy the atmosphere.  It’s quite homely, honestly.  Perhaps I shall approach random humans and find my Catholic brethren here.

Anyway, what am I saying…?  Right, the first day!  First days are packed with all sorts of happenings.  First days are when you step, blinking, into this new, distinct world that is high school, college, a job, or lots of other things.  It’s a unique experience, and I think that they’re to be appreciated highly.  Slightly intimidating, but that might just be me.  I was walking around for a good 20 minutes, looking to sit down away from other people, but finally, I settled myself – in complete opposition to my normal routine – in the not quite center of the room.
I’m still here, in fact.

Oh, and now, I have reached the “1 hour and 30 minutes left until the first class” mark.  The anticipation is mounting.  My bag is just sitting here, and I don’t much fancy picking it up again, but whatever.  Twiddling my thumbs, waiting.

~ Time is slipping through my fingers, If I’m not living then I’m losing, losing, The sound of every second passing ~

I’m mostly certain that I saw a Catholic person, which is quite joyous.  And right now I happen to be staring out the window at a prime hangout spot on a stairwell.  I think it’s the south, by the position of the sun, but my calculations tend to be inaccurate.  Slightly inaccurate.

1 hour and 15 now.  English Composition.  English Composition.  English Composition.  That’s when I get to learn how to better structure my writing, because right now, it’s pretty unstructured.  Although that in itself is a structure.  I believe it’s called flow of consciousness.  Modified of course, to fit the needs of a blog post, but yes, this post is less ordered and more chaotic than my others, perhaps due to the fact that I am now in a school environment.

What I want to say about first days is rather short and to the point.  Be excited!  Be ready for a fantastic year, and view it not as a hardship, but as an opportunity.  You’ll meet people, you’ll (hopefully) learn new things, and you’ll have an adventure that will last in your memory.  In a good way, just to clarify.  And if you’re worried, put in the hands of God, and just do your best.  That’s really all you can do.  So just do it (Yeah, I’m referencing that video)!

Well, I’m off now.  Time’s passing by, and I’ve got just a little over half an hour until my class.
“Let’s see what we’re made of.  You… and I.”

-M

Movement And Resurgence

First off, I included a video here.

No, this isn’t a strictly writing blog, but it does have heavy emphasis on it, because… well, I have yet to get into serious photography and filming.  Might happen, you never know.  Perhaps I need better materials, but at any rate, I digress.

School at C State starts this Monday!  That’s always exciting.  It’ll be quite an interesting year.  A new beginning.  Having been a homeschooler for so long, I’m curious as to how this transition process will go.  Oh well.  I’ll adjust eventually.

Resurgence!  The great stage of revitalized revisions has randomly been placed here and now, and I have no idea why I’m writing a number of R words, but there you go.
What with a Freedom Award Board of the Review on the horizon (some people will get it), school starting the 24th, a kick-off event for SGYM the day before, and numerous activities ahead in the summer, how could I possibly be… discouraged?

Yes, I’ve been a bit out of sorts lately.  Scholarships, and future plans that involve Industrial Design, as well as the SAT and college admission timing, have put my head out of whack.  I think this “calm before the storm” is the moment that will test me most.  I’m in limbo, as far as life is concerned.  Well, no, maybe that’s inaccurate.  Having a good amount of work to keep me busy, but not so busy as to be completely wrapped in its embrace.  It’s a lovely moment, or would be, if worries didn’t keep cropping up, and frankly, it’s going to be a bit of time before I’m fully back on my feet, as far as most things are concerned.

So, as an attempt to speed that process… I do have some things that might help me rediscover some form of clarity.  This post is, actually, one of those things.  Surprise, surprise.

Right!  Consecration.  Total Consecration to Mary.  Took place on the 16th, which – technically speaking – counts for the 15th!  The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  It was a glorious feeling, standing before the Mary statue at Annunciation church.  I stumbled over the words for the consecration quite often, but I finished it, and here I am now.  It’s a promise.  A lifelong one.  It doesn’t guarantee Heaven or make me a better person just by saying the words.  It’s a devotion I have to live out.  To Jesus through Mary.  Veni ad me.

Not many of the present moments are easy, whether it be adjusting to a much earlier waking time, or simply taking care of my younger brother despite my being in an exhausted state.  With each hardship, there is also a chance at self-mortification, a word I’m pretty sure I’m using correctly, but doubt, at the moment.  A chance to atone and sacrifice, and thus gain a better understanding and self-control in our lives.  To reach higher.  Verso l’alto!

With that spirit of sacrifice in mind, I am also constantly tested in the spirit of charity.  Confession to make, I’m a very judgy person.  Not sure whether I’ve said that before.  An expression, a word, or just the appearance of a person can raise some shields on my part.  It’s a great fault of mine, and one that I constantly catch myself falling into.  So, moving forward, with that message to myself, I shall battle onward in being more charitable in the way I think of people.

Yeah, this is one of those posts where it’s just like… yeah… that’s me.  Experience and unity work wonders together, I will say.  Right, so..!

I’ve had a brilliant three months of summer, and I am genuinely looking forward to getting back to school.  There’s so much to learn and prepare for, and I just hope that we – yes, you too, oh reader of this… thing – approach the new school year with that endgame in mind, not focusing on the things that we have to leave behind, but the brilliant opportunities and people that are before us.  There is so much we miss if we’re too caught up in the past.  Not to say that we shouldn’t learn from the past, but it requires… balance.  Onward.

-M