Loss in life

Despair, said rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav, is the greatest sin. Despair is the collapse of hope. To despair is to believe that God's world is ultimately black and dark. Loss is the constant temptation to despair. Faith is, if not the antidote, at least the counteragent.

The first comment God makes about human beings in the Bible is: "It's not good for man to be alone". We fear loss in part because we fear being alone. A person that is alone is like a splinter chopped off the carpenter's block, without connection to something greater. Behind all the little anxieties of each loss is the shuddering fear of losing everything we care for, everyone we love. A loss makes us feel, inside, less connected.

The Human Experience

I was supposed to go to this meditation/dance event tonight that I was invited to. It's supposed to be about opening up with people you don't know. This is exactly what I want. I long to connect with others. I long for it with all my might. At the same time I am so scared of connecting with anybody. I backed out at the last minute and instead I'm going to go work out, push those weights around, beat the hell out of my body on the elliptical and go home. I want so badly to feel alive and yet I'm so scared of feeling again. I want to feel the highs but I'm afraid of the lows because I've been in a valley for so long and I can barely remember what the top of the hill is like. I want to feel the warm rays of sunshine that come with knowing that I am a whole being. I am a person. I have an identity besides...what? A dedicated employee. A dedicated gym goer?

Black Queen Speaks

So Saturday night I went to a local British pub to watch some local bands play. The first band that played was mediocre at best. The second band "Black Queen Speaks" was alright but nothing to get excited over. I ended up sitting outside chatting and yelling at random strangers (in a fun way). Towards the end of the night some lady sat down next to me and chatted with me for a bit. Right as she was leaving she suddenly grabbed my face and kissed me. It caught me off guard but I was ok with it. The only disappointing part of the night is that this new friend I made was supposed to make it but never did. Oh well. I don't know why, but since Saturday I have just been so off and blah.

Doctor's Visit

So I went to the doctor today for the first time ever. She basically reiterated what the chiropractor had already told me: There is no way to fix my particular problem and I will just have to live with my pain for the rest of my life. She did encourage me to keep working out to strengthen my core muscles in order to support my spine and to eat healthier. I got a prescription for some muscle relaxers, some painkillers, and medicine for high blood pressure. I don't think I actually have high blood pressure, I think I was just irritated by her assistant.

Today I am looking forward to staying in and relaxing at home. I was thinking of getting some wine but I'm going to just skip out on alcohol and play some video games or watch a movie. I was supposed to go to an art gallery opening tonight but I don't know anybody who will be there and I don't feel like being awkward. I am having a difficult time staying positive lately. I hope I have a good work out today at the gym.

Getting over it.

“Getting over it so soon? But the words are ambiguous. To say the patient is getting over it after an operation for appendicitis is one thing; after he’s had his leg off is quite another. After that operation either the wounded stump heals or the man dies. If it heals, the fierce, continuous pain will stop. Presently he’ll get back his strength and be able to stump about on his wooden leg. He has ‘got over it.’ But he will probably have recurrent pains in the stump all his life, and perhaps pretty bad ones; and he will always be a one-legged man. There will be hardly any moment when he forgets it. Bathing, dressing, sitting down and getting up again, even lying in bed, will all be different. His whole way of life will be changed. All sorts of pleasures and activities that he once took for granted will have to be simply written off. Duties too. At present I am learning to get about on crutches. Perhaps I shall presently be given a wooden leg. But I shall never be a biped again.” ― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Quote

The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them-words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they are brought out. The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you have said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That's the worst I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.

The Final Countdown

Sunday, 23rd

We didn't wake up until 11:30 due to being up so late the previous night. After getting cleaned up, we settled on going out for some quiche at Big City Bread Cafe. We ordered our food and we made our way outside to a small wooden bench where we could both talk and people watch at the same time.I slowly drank my cappuccino, enjoying the warm breeze and the clear sky. After we picked up our food, we drove around, taking pictures of interesting homes. At one point I saw a stop sign with the words 'Big Banking' below 'Stop'. I immediately threw my wallet out the window and yelled: Take that Capital One! I suddenly came to my senses, jumped out of the car and picked up my wallet.

I took a picture of a flag that said 'Dog is Love'. This is a strange place. We pulled over to take pictures of a very cool building. Unfortunately it was locked, although I managed to nab several awesome pictures of me dangling from a tree. We still had not eaten our lunch, so we drove several miles out to Whitehall Mills, an old textile mill that was converted into lofts next to the North Oconee River. I took several nice photographs of the mill itself, the surrounding buildings and some good ones of the river as well.

We found a nice shady spot to sit at and proceeded to dig into our lunch. The grits were good, as well as the quiche: It had mushrooms!

 
We then made our way back to the house so I could pack up and get ready for my flight back. On the way we picked up some Mexican sodas: YUM.

Back at the house, I set up the new wireless printer so I could print out my boarding pass. My ability to retrieve the password for the wireless network baffled Doug greatly: He thought I had somehow found the password written on a scrap of paper that he kept squirreled away. I made short work of all the left overs that we had from breakfast and the Thai food and said my goodbyes.