The Road Goes Ever On and On

Oh, wow. The end of this year is in... half an hour. Central time. I'd be lying if I said I was excited, though. Very little marks this day as important to me aside from the symbolic mark of the chance to reinvent oneself and resolve previous faults, mistakes, bad habits, et cetera.

I have a few resolutions, of course... Exercise more, read more, sit around like a fatass less... You know. The normal stuff. However, I also want to move deeper into the roots of my own personal philosophy. I've been reading a lot of philosophy lately, and I've come to realize that it's kind of a silly thing. Both philosophies and resolutions, actually. In fact, they're so silly I'd almost say they were worthless.

Almost.

Studying philosophy is much more similar to making a new year's resolution than one might expect. You do both in order to fully realize a certain aspect of your own potential. You also must be meticulous and organized in doing so. You also need to be fully committed. If you slack off in any aspect of either one, things get messy and they just don't realize the right conclusion.

This may seem a bit silly, but think of last year's resolutions you made. Don't remember 'em? Yeah, me either. But try to think what they might have been. Do you think you improved over this year? I hope the answer is yes.

If you thought of it deeply enough, you have begun to use the past to evaluate the present. You retraced your steps. It's always important to know where we've been-- that's why we study history, after all. Philosophy has more common threads in New Year's resolutions when we look at where we're going, though, so let's take a brief glimpse at what the next decade might bring.

I made a new year's resolution to read more... The more I read, the more I look at the human lifespan not quite as a span of time, but more a series of events-- Less of a timeline and more of a sequence of events, decisions, and actions.  Allow me to elaborate...

As you read in my previous post (I hope you have, anyway), Gautama Buddha makes a metaphor out of the Ganges river. It is constantly flowing-- As a certain Greek philosopher (and Native American Disney star) once said (sang): You can't step in the same river twice. You are a completely different person than you were a split second ago-- So how can you make a resolution for the entire year when you change so subtly (and yet so powerfully) in such a small amount of time?

Heraclitus, everyone!... Oh, wait.

My point is this: Whether you are studying philosophy or resolving to improve yourself in the new Decade, don't decide to do it as something that will radically change you. Rather, I urge you to view it as a product of you radically changing. I want my resolutions to happen of their own accord because I followed the correct path to make them happen. I do not want to choose my path in order to achieve a resolution I made back last year.

I sincerely hope your Resolutions come to be, and I hope your Philosophy deepens your understanding of the world around you. Thanks for reading.

Peace and Love in the New Year.

“To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.”

Forgiveness is one of the most underestimated powers humans possess.

I have done a lot of bad things. I often think to myself that if my friends knew all of the bad things I did, they wouldn't want anything to do with me anymore. I don't really know, however, exactly how true that could be.

Recently, one of my past mistakes came back to haunt me. To spare you all the boring details, I did as much as I could to fix it and still received no forgiveness from a former friend. I realized that there was nothing that I could do, and I moved on. However, now that it's returned, I'm finding myself again wishing for forgiveness from this former friend.

I recently read this in a Buddhist book I have.

"The Buddha was sitting under a tree talking to his disciples when a man came and spit on his face. He wiped it off, and he asked the man, “What next? What do you want to say next?” The man was a little puzzled because he himself never expected that when you spit on somebody’s face, he will ask, “What next?” He had no such experience in his past. He had insulted people and they had become angry and they had reacted. Or if they were cowards and weaklings, they had smiled, trying to bribe the man. But Buddha was like neither, he was not angry nor in any way offended, nor in any way cowardly. But just matter-of-factly he said, “What next?” There was no reaction on his part.
Buddha’s disciples became angry, they reacted. His closest disciple, Ananda, said, “This is too much, and we cannot tolerate it. He has to be punished for it. Otherwise everybody will start doing things like this.”
Buddha said, “You keep silent. He has not offended me, but you are offending me. He is new, a stranger. He must have heard from people something about me, that this man is an atheist, a dangerous man who is throwing people off their track, a revolutionary, a corrupter. And he may have formed some idea, a notion of me. He has not spit on me, he has spit on his notion. He has spit on his idea of me because he does not know me at all, so how can he spit on me?
“If you think on it deeply,” Buddha said, “he has spit on his own mind. I am not part of it, and I can see that this poor man must have something else to say because this is a way of saying something. Spitting is a way of saying something. There are moments when you feel that language is impotent: in deep love, in intense anger, in hate, in prayer. There are intense moments when language is impotent. Then you have to do something. When you are angry, intensely angry, you hit the person, you spit on him, you are saying something. I can understand him. He must have something more to say, that’s why I’m asking, “What next?”"

 
Some Christian readers may think of Jesus' teaching of turning the other cheek. What they were trying to convey was not being passive-- No, not at all. In receiving the hostile action, be it phlegm or fist, Buddha and Jesus were both incredibly active in their forgiveness. They responded with love in their hearts.

I was requesting advice from one of my best friends earlier today. I told her that earlier this week I had received a threatening call from someone due to the aforementioned past mistake. When she learned I had wished the threatening caller a good evening, she was quite surprised.

"Being nice doesn't mean you have to be nice with even the jerky ones alright?

Knowing when to stand up for yourself is important too."

 I couldn't agree more. However, our views on what "standing up for oneself" meant differed. If I lead by example, and stand for what I believe in, that is standing up for myself in my eyes. I can avoid conflict as much as possible, and when confronted, ask "What next?" If I don't give people a reason to be hostile to me, I can have faith that eventually we can live in peace, even if we don't see each other or even live near each other.

The man who spit in the Buddha's face was wracked with guilt and uncertainty. It is said that once your life is touched by someone who has been Awakened (read: achieved Enlightenment) that you will never sleep the same way again. The next day, he returned to the Tree and he threw himself down at the Buddha's feet.

"The man looked at Buddha and said, “Forgive me for what I did yesterday.”
Buddha said, “Forgive? But I am not the same man to whom you did it. The Ganges goes on flowing, it is never the same Ganges again. Every man is a river. The man you spit upon is no longer here. I look just like him, but I am not the same, much has happened in these twenty-four hours! The river has flowed so much. So I cannot forgive you because I have no grudge against you.”
“And you also are new. I can see you are not the same man who came yesterday because that man was angry and he spit, whereas you are bowing at my feet, touching my feet. How can you be the same man? You are not the same man, so let us forget about it. Those two people, the man who spit and the man on whom he spit, both are no more. Come closer. Let us talk of something else.”"

This is a beautiful way of illustrating forgiveness. Time progresses. New experiences and new realizations bring people to be different every single day. I know that I can forgive myself for what I've done because I am not the same man who committed the mistake. I know that whether or not the others can forgive me, they are different as well. Not better, not worse. Different. The river has flowed so much.

If you are currently holding a grudge, consider that you are not the same person who had been spit on. Your past experiences have all made you something different. Also consider that your offender is not the same person, either. Since those two people who had the conflict no longer exist, there is no grudge and there is nothing to worry about anymore. Next time someone spits in your face, try and see into the situation mindfully and ask, "What next?"

Holy Birth

I have a story to tell.

My name is Abahu, and I'm a shepherd. I keep track of sheep that other people own. You know, make sure they don't get eaten by anything. It's tough work, but hey, it's a Denarius.

A few nights ago, my friend Achan ("AH-khan", you gotta put your gut into it.) was helping me out with a particularly large flock. It was a really quiet night. The birds weren't fighting with each other, there weren't any wild dogs around to ward off... It was odd. But the sky... Yahweh, the sky was amazing. Stars filled it like sand filled the desert. The scent of sheep and sandalwood filled the air. I loved Bethlehem.

I turned to Achan and I asked him, "What do you think stars are?"
Achan, in his typical snark, replied, "Bright. Especially tonight."
I smiled.

I almost dozed off, it was so quiet, but I knew I needed to stay awake to make sure all 142 sheep would make it through the night. I walked over to a young ewe and whistled as she trotted over to lick my hand.

Then, the sky split open.

I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. It was like the music of cymbals, drums, and trumpets was combined with the noise of thunder, the sea, and the four winds. I put my hands up to shield my eyes... My heart was about to break out of my chest. I turned to Achan as he stared, wide-eyed, at the sky.

"Abahu! What happen? Who this?!" Achan's Galilean accent always came out when he was afraid-- He wasn't raised to speak Aramaic. He wasn't a Jew, like me.

As my eyes finally grew accustomed to the sun bursting into the night sky, I saw something I never will forget. There were people in the sky. Floating. They had wings, but they weren't moving. Then I remembered something the prophet Ezekiel had written about... Were these Messengers?

One of them started to descend, and I started to sweat. What had I done to bring this upon Achan and myself? The being touched the dry ground right in front of me, and I began to kneel down and weep silently. I took a closer look at the Messenger. He had purple skin, bright white hair and his eyes had no pupils, they were just golden spheres glowing from a mouthless head. He had to have been six cubits tall, with his wings that and half again as wide. He had the body of a very feminine man... Or a rather masculine woman.

He spoke.

"Abahu...Achan. Do not be afraid." The echoing words filled the field and shook my bones. Its voice was like music that filled my heart with peace until it began to spill out of my eyes. I began to cry again, this time with joy.

"Do not be afraid. We are here to bring you news that will bring joy to you, and to all people.
It took me a moment to realize it was speaking Hebrew. Achan didn't understand. I began to translate for it as it spoke.

"Today, in David's city, called Bethlehem, one who will save you all has been born into your world. He is Messiah, God on Earth."

As I translated for Achan, my smile returned. He seemed confused. "But... Abahu... There must be more than one baby in Bethlehem. How do we know which is the right one?"

I bit my thumb. Good question. I asked the purple-skinned Messenger, in Hebrew.

"You will know from the Signs. You will find the baby wrapped in cloth, lying in a feeding trough."

I reeled. A feeding trough? Where animals eat? This thing had to be joking. My disbelief must have shown on my face, because the Messenger gave me the closest thing it could to a smile, and shimmered into a gold light that shot straight back up into the Heavens. As suddenly as it had happened, it had ended.

Achan and I were both still shaking. "Abahu, what was that thing?"

"In my language, their name means Messenger." I replied, as I steadied myself with my staff. "We need to go tell people about this. This means all the prophets of my people... They were right. This is unbelievable."

"What about the sheep?" He slowly got to his feet and fetched his own curved staff.

"I have a feeling they'll be all right. Come on, Achan. We have a story to tell."

Of Love and Faith

Earlier this morning, someone asked me if I had ever been in love. I thought for a moment, and nodded. The followup question was if I currently was in love. I responded, "I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to make that judgment yet." She then asked me something that caught me off my guard.

"What does being in love feel like?"

I didn't know how to respond. How can you define something like that?  I was speechless for a few moments, but then remembered something I had written about 2 years ago, back when I was wrestling with a definition for something as bizarre as Love. I showed it to her, hoping to give her a general picture of what I felt about it.

"Define

Love is being kind enough to give while being stern enough to take.

Love is the deepest trust for another person.

Love is putting your whole world in another person's hands and trusting them not to drop it, or even shake it too hard.

Love is red, blue, green, yellow, brown, white, black

Love is one hundred thousand different ways to show your concern
your devotion
your sense of humor
your sorrow
your fury
your sunshine
your moonlight

and best of all...

Love is all of these things
and countless more."

 I told her love was cold. Not freezing, like winter, but... calming. Soothing. Drinking from a coconut on a hot, muggy day. I told her love felt like fire and ice. I told her love is trust, but it's so many leagues deeper than that.

She then asked me how I know the other person will come through for me and do the same for me. I took a second and thought again. For whatever reason, my mind brought up a passage in the Bible, in the 11th chapter of the Book of Hebrews:

 "Now, Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."

So, I told her about that. I then took a second to think a bit deeper...

I had always thought that in many cases, the words "Faith" and "Love" are interchangeable. After all, if I love someone, won't I always have faith in them? And if I have faith in an idea, doesn't that show a certain amount of love for a cause? In addition, many instances in the Bible where the word "hope" appears isn't always translated the ideal way. The Hope they speak of is concrete. It isn't up in the air-- it's looking forward to something you know is true and right. That is Faith. That is Love. So, if we reword that passage, look what we have:

"Now, Love is being rooted in what we know is true and certain of what is unable to be seen."

Love and Faith are placing your heart within the soul of another and being absolutely certain they do the same for you. You know the other person feels the same way, because that is what Love is.

冰

I've been quite busy with finals the past 10 days, but now I'm all set. I'm sorry I haven't been able to produce another post. However, now that we're together, why don't we talk a little bit?

Winter is a really difficult time for a lot of people. In ancient Chinese folklore, each season corresponds with a Guardian animal from Heaven, one of the Chinese Elements, a color, and a stage of life. Winter is the domain of the Black Tortoise, with the color black, the element Water, and death (the seeming end of life). Winter is often symbolic for loneliness, sorrow, death, and countless other unpleasant things.

Yes. This winter has been quite cold.

Many people ask "How can Winter be so sad? Holidays, vacation time, spending time with your family... Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentines Day?" A lot of times, these holidays can only make us feel more alone and can cause stress additional to that which they're meant to relieve.

It's not always about those things, even if it may be somewhat related to them. What good is celebrating those you care about most if a lot of times some of them don't have any intention of talking to you? That's a story for another day, however.

One thing that can help break the loneliness and the cold of this winter is a certain someone. I won't go into silly lovey dovey ridiculous speak, but I'll just say that she's the one who re-inspired me to believe in Peace.

This is a tough time for everyone right now, but just try and keep close to whatever keeps you warm. Snuggle up close to that blanket, because the winter isn't even halfway over yet... But rest assured knowing that you'll be warm.

火冰
I feel cold, lying here on my bed.

I’m staring at the orange ambient aura street light cast soft illusions of foxes onto the snowy earth.

The strings of the guitar in my hand are vibrating, but I haven’t yet strummed them.

I’m hearing your music again.

I wish I could ignite these dormant embers into the flames they should be.

I can hear your beating heart, though you’re nowhere near me.

Your fire shines through your eyes!

But whenever I come too close

I end up melting.

Now, the only warmth I have is the memory of your fire.

The heat of the sun shining on my skin.

Now even the moon shines through the heavy lens of cloud cover

And I wish I could have you in my arms, here, sharing your warmth, sharing your heart

Because all I want is to sleep next to someone again.

"It's the thought that counts."

I was speaking with my good friend earlier today. She said something that I simply didn't understand at the time.

"It's the thought that counts to me. Seriously. I'd rather have you just tell me 'Happy birthday, I'm sorry I couldn't get you anything because I'm low on cash.' than get me something silly."

Now, I've naturally heard that before. "It's the thought that counts." Every time, however, I admit I really didn't give it much thought. After all, it may be the thought that counts, but think about how bad you'll look if you're the only person who didn't (or wasn't able to) buy gifts.

I had gone out to eat bún riêu (A kind of Vietnamese noodle soup) with a few of my friends, and I figured I should pick up a small snack for my friends who were back at my college. I bought a package of two spring rolls and headed back.

Some bún riêu. Never had it? Go fix that. Now.

I tracked down my friends and gave them the food, but one of my friends reminded silly me that she had eaten it before and wasn't overly fond of it. I was kind of disappointed. Not only had I picked the wrong food, I had also (in a sense) broken my promise to bring something back for her.

My disappointment must have shown on my face. She quickly assured me "But it's the thought that counts! Seriously! I think it's so nice of you to do this!" I was taken off guard. Does that adage apply to this situation? I suppose it must.

If the thought really is what counts, why do we even need to actually go through the action of buying or creating gifts then? We can just think them up. That should be good enough. Right?

...Yeah, no. We should get gifts because we want to, not because we have to. It's not an equivalent exchange. Of course, the other side of this is that if we are completely unable to get a hold of gifts, then you shouldn't feel obligated. If it's outside your power, then so be it. It's around this time of year we begin to lose track of what a gift really means, so this is why I decided to write about it today with that phrase fresh in my mind.

If you're able, I want you to post in a comment below what your favorite gift was. Just a way of reliving certain good memories.

Mine was the year I got the biggest Transformer ever for Christmas: Unicron. Jeez, that mofo was big. He was so big, he didn't transform into a semi. He didn't transform into no stinkin' Battleship either. No, he didn't even transform into a Boeing 747. This bad boy transformed into a damned PLANET.

Pictured: This bad boy (right), a damned planet (left).

So if you have one gift that really meant a lot to you, please leave a short description in the comment. It's good to remember these things from your childhood.

Houses, Monopoly, and Pokemon

Today was a good day. I got my homework done on time, I hung out with a good friend of mine after not seeing him for a while, I made a new friend, and I got a lot done in planning a new DnD campaign. I also got my ass handed to me in Monopoly, but that's all good.

And that's what he did with my money. Smug fucker.

I am very humbled, every time, when one of my friends invites me over to their home. It's a very lovely thing, to be able to extend a gesture of friendship like that. Your home is your core; it's the hub of everything that goes on in your life. To bring someone there is a great act of kindness. You introduce someone to your parents, you invite them for dinner, and you essentially share a part of your life with them.  I just want to extend my thanks to all of my friends who have ever invited me to their home.

On a slightly related (read: completely fucking irrelevant) note, I've started to re-play my copy of Pokemon Diamond. That's right. Pokemon Diamond. Pokemon is one of those things that if you've had it in your childhood, you totally get. It's ingrained within you. The challenge of collecting is exciting, and you all know how awesome it is when you finally drop the Elite IV.

However, if you had had no contact with it during the course of your childhood (you poor, poor soul) you wouldn't really understand it if you just looked at some of the damn things. Some of them are unbearably cute.

"I'm going to choose Squirtle! It's the CUTEST~!"

Some others, however, are completely and pitifully ugly.

Hide yo kids. Hide yo wife.

But, really, I enjoy the games. They're nothing more or less than a pastime. I don't know if I will ever completely outgrow them. Sure, I'll get old and they'll be an old franchise from when I was a kid... But I'll always enjoy the novelty of collecting little monsters because why the fuck not. If someone my age were to see me hanging out on the corner, DS in hand, fighting a Gym Leader, They'd have on of two reactions.

"Pokemon!? Rock on! "

Or...

"Pokemon!? Grow up, man. You're 19."

This makes me kind of sad. If you enjoy something, shouldn't that be enough? A lot of people are afraid to do what they enjoy because of what others may think. Age doesn't really mean anything to a DS or a Gameboy. Childhood is important, after all... and sometimes we need something to hold onto from that childhood to help us through adulthood.

If you've played (and still do play) Pokemon, you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you haven't, find a friend who has a spare system to teach you how to play. It's nothing but pure, clean, innocent, childlike fun.

"The School smells of Winter and Cigarettes."

I hope you are all enjoying the beginning of December. I sure am! I've been getting a lot of ideas for my writing. A few of my friends have also talked to me about getting Dungeons and Dragons up and rolling again, which is something I'm totally down for. I've been making a lot of music, too. My acoustic has never felt more natural in my hands. As far as reading goes, I'm revisiting the classics. I recommend  you all to do so, as well. It's great to look back into some aspects of history and glimpse into the culture of the time. I'm reading The Hunchback of Notre Dame right now, and Hugo's words (when it's not being drowned out by architectural history) are fluid, but strong, like a river.

School is going great! Thanks for asking. As you already know (or probably could have guess) I'm studying Chinese. It's a lot of bitch work, but it's fun nonetheless. The memorization of the characters is the hardest part, but it's still coming along great.

I'm going to share something with you today. Before you all jump to any conclusions, I DID NOT WRITE THIS. THIS IS AN ORIGINAL WORK WRITTEN BY MICHAEL MARTINEZ AND THEREFORE BELONGS ONLY TO HIM. I AM USING THIS BY PERMISSION.

I encouraged Mike to write this because writing is such a fantastic outlet, and it can help us realize things about ourselves and expand our understanding of the world around us. He asked for a topic to write about, and I gave him a single word: "Autumn". I'm going to feature 3 more writers later on, each having written something relating to a season. I hope you all enjoy reading these as much as I did. This great piece is what Mike responded with:

The leaves change from the brilliant bright green
The roses change from the velvet red
Becoming weak and brittle, they perish as if never there before
Time continues on
The marvelous blue ceiling above turns to the brown orange skies of deceit
Clouds shroud what is yet to be seen in the season to come
Speculations of past mistakes still taunt those that have yet to learn
The warmth of summer is long gone and only chill of winter to look forward too
And the transition begins
This small innocence of autumn is born
This small season between two opposites like love and hate, good and evil
This kind of limbo

I really enjoy this. Before just a short time ago, I had no idea Mike wrote like this. Talents can unearth themselves in some of the weirdest ways. If you're interested in writing something (a song, a poem, a rant, ANYTHING) and you want to be featured (it's lots of fun, I promise!), don't hesitate to hit me up any way you know how.

I acknowledge that sometimes I write pretty heavy stuff (today wasn't one of those days, I know) and it could take a little while to digest, so today I'm going to share something completely unlike all of those things.

For those readers who are unable to speak Swedish (I'm in that group, no worries), a translation is in order.
"This is a nice horse!"
"Horse-mathematics!"
"NICE HORSE and HAY and PATTING equals HAPPY HORSE."

Chew on that for a little while. Peace and love, thanks for reading.

美

I keep finding people who are unhappy with the way they are. I don't look down on them, though-- It is, sometimes, difficult to perceive yourself as someone who is successful, intelligent, confident, or attractive. Everyone feels that way, and it sucks. A lot. It sucks chasing carrots, trying to live up to society's expectations of success. It sucks pouring over books for the sole purpose of not looking stupid. It sucks mustering up the courage to talk to that cute girl or guy in your English class. It sucks looking in the mirror and telling yourself "I am not pretty enough" or "My muscles aren't big enough".

I personally believe (as corny as it sounds) that every person has their own beauty. In the 道德经 (Dào​dé​jīng​), the main Daoist scripture, LaoZi (also called Lao Tzu, written 老子) says that we only know what beauty is because we know what ugliness is. His point is that the entire concept of  beauty only exists because we compare one thing to another, and we rank one thing 'more beautiful' than another. This was strongly rooted in one of the main concepts of Daoism: duality. Male and female, white and black, hot and cold, strength and weakness, evil and good. However, another main concept of duality is that existence does not actually come of duality, but rather that two opposites come together to form reality. We only know what beauty or ugliness is because we only see the two opposites, and instead of seeing these things together (and thus removing the concept of both) we compare them, we rank them.

Life should not work that way. Life should NOT revolve around putting yourself next to another person and evaluating. That does nothing but divide.

I've talked to countless girls who have put their health in grave danger because they thought they weren't skinny enough. They freak out about 2 random pounds here or there and think that their peers will talk smack about them. I see many very, very intelligent girls compare themselves to others and cut out entire meals or even DAYS of eating just to drop that last few. It breaks me.

So... you're here, reading this silly blog post that only about 5 or so other people will actually read. (Thank you very much for your support.) Think for a second. What were you insecure about today? Be honest with yourself. I'll go right ahead and tell you one of mine. This morning, I looked in the mirror and thought "I wish I could look good with straight or short hair. I wish my nose wasn't so big. I wish I had a bit clearer skin. I wish my muscles were bigger."
Think about an instance today that you felt like you fell short when compared to another.

Now realize that you don't have to think that way. You don't need to compare, and you don't need to tell yourself you aren't good enough. There is someone in this world (besides your mother) who thinks you are one of the greatest things to ever grace their lives. I can promise you that.

It's not easy to rid yourself of those thoughts. At times, yes, you will fail and this world will get to you and hurt you. However, you don't need to put your physical well being in danger just to prove to someone else that you are beautiful enough. Stop comparing yourself to others. Remove duality and embrace reality.

Society throws hundreds of messages at you, every day, that show you tons of beautiful people and tell you they can show you how to be beautiful. I'm throwing you just one message to tell you that you already are.

Happy Thanksgiving!

So, everyone knows what today is supposed to be about. I mean, really, they weren't very creative in designing the name of this holiday.

Today is the day to gather with your family in one of the most basic, ancient ways (around food) and remember what it is you're grateful for. Many of you have given this notion some thought, without doubt.

But, ask yourself-- Did you live it out?

The sermon of the Thanksgiving service at my family's church focused around the made-up word "ThanksLiving". As corny as it sounded, I ended up liking the idea. It reminded me of something I read in a book I've mentioned in an earlier post: Living Buddha, Living Christ by Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk. Specifically, it reminded me of this section regarding what he calls "mindful eating":

"...We can look at the food deeply, in a way that allows it to become real. Contemplating our food before eating in mindfulness can be a real source of happiness. Every time I hold a bowl of rice, I know how fortunate I am. I know that forty thousand children die every day because of the lack of food and that many people are lonely, without friends or family."

How many of us thought about something along those lines as we ate our Thanksgiving dinner tonight? I won't lie, it was one of the farthest things from my own mind.

Let's take another look at that word "ThanksLiving". Being able to live out what we are thankful for, that is a form of being mindful in all we do. When we give thanks, it makes it sound temporary, almost forced. However, if we live thanks, we can understand everything that went into that bowl of rice-- The Earth, the Sky, and a lot of hard work. To give thanks is a momentary temporary thing, but to live thanks is ongoing and constant.

The Chinese word for Thanksgiving Day is 感恩节 (Gǎn​'ēn​jié)​.  Those first two words, 感恩,  mean "to feel kindness, mercy, and charity". Not "to feel gratefulness". Being ultimately grateful, I think, results in us showing those traits: kindness, mercy, and charity. We know what we have, and we are thankful for it, so we are moved to help others who could be less fortunate.

I really like the way these words are written. If you take a close look at the lowest parts of both of those words, you see a common pattern: the radical 心 (xīn), which means heart.

I know most of you will read this after Thanksgiving day, and that's my intention in posting this so late. I hope you remember even a few words of this post, and that it makes some impact (however small) so you can be thankful every day, not just one day out of the year. I hope we all can remember that giving thanks can be a way of life, and I hope it moves us to help others out of kindness, mercy, and charity.

Maybe after enough writing, I can think of other things to write about.

Today was less than awesome.

When I woke up, I worked on the finishing touches of a paper I know won't score very high.

I then proceeded to change my Facebook status to a quote. I ended up with a glorious typo instead of the intended effect, and didn't realize until minutes before writing this.

Next, I was greeted by a message from one of my favorite people to talk to... Telling me she won't be able to contact me for a good while.

 After that, I decided to take a shower. I was out of face wash, body wash, and conditioner all at once.

After I got to class, I found it was canceled. Great, 4.5 hours until my next class.

I realized too late that I had homework to do and scrambled to write 9 pages of Chinese homework in 2 hours.

It wasn't until halfway through this I realized I hadn't eaten anything all day.

So, I realize that there's no way on the Gods' green earth that I'd be up for my Chinese class. I drop my homework (fully completed) off with my teacher and leave.

The only good thing about today was my good friend treating me to a bit of Super Wok afterwards. That certainly cheered me up, but only a little bit.

So, enough of my bitching. Time for me to show you what I wrote today.

Outside, the sharp fangs of the season are bared.
Icy winds begin to howl, and the grim, frozen silence is enough to drive me mad.
The hoarfrost and rime make telling time
more of a task and less of a tool.
As the rivers, rains, and lakes coagulate
Like an icy pool of spilled blood onto cold, cruel concrete.
The days grow dark, the sky grows gray
With the grave of this year's younger seasons freshly filled.

I just threw this together after returning home an hour ago. I'll have something better later this week.

"Religion divides us, yes, but only because we let it."

Today was quite the eventful day for me. I had the pleasure of being able to spend time with many of my friends after my writing class. I don't even remember how, but somehow the topic migrated to religion. There was a young woman there who was starkly Christian, and she didn't like how I was reading a book ("Living Buddha, Living Christ" by Thich Nhat Hanh) that compared Christianity to Buddhism. I started to talk with her and she revealed to me that she equated Buddhism with worship of Satan, something that not only puzzled me, but also intrigued me.

I asked her why. Without going into too much detail, she had been sent on a mission trip to somewhere (I can't remember exactly where.) and she had been through a very terrifying experience involving what she saw as (and may very well have been) the possession of one or more young children. These children were Buddhist. The experience scared her and shook her so much that she began to directly associate Buddhism with what had happened.

Naturally, when I tried to explain to her my personal beliefs (which are long and complex, and will not be posted here) which include many aspects of both Buddhism and Christianity, she was less than pleased.

"It's impossible to be both Christian and something else. Either you take all of the Bible, which says it's the only way, or you don't take any of it."

 My friend shares an apartment with this woman, and kept continually telling me to stop before I start something.

Many people in this small circle of people had begun to listen to what she was telling me-- partially because I'm a charismatic speaker (or so I've been told), and partially because the woman had noticeably raised her voice. It seems I had inadvertently started something. I explained to her that most of the biggest world religions have one thing in common: They try to better the world by teaching one how to better oneself. Slowly but surely, she opened up and heard what I had to say. After too long, many people had gotten involved and had something to say.

After many controversial words on every side had been said, she and I had both found a strong respect for the other. Not one of us completely shut down on the other, all people involved had gotten a turn to speak when they needed it, and there was a stronger understanding of the other when all was said and done. No violence, no disrespect. Just different ideas coming together to form a deeper mutual understanding.

This is why I speak and write. Because ultimately, the pen is mightier than the sword, and words are what we use to convey ideas-- for the sake of peace and understanding and coexistence, rather than ignorance and close-mindedness and arrogance.

Galvanized

Is anyone here alone?
Of course not, we're all here with you.
Is anyone here alive?
Naturally. You're breathing and your heart yet beats.
Is anyone here regretting love?
Quite probably. It happens to even the best of us.
Is anyone here feeling...
Cold, cracked, crazy, crooked?
I sure am.
The lightning that lives in my soul
Is lighting up my eyes
Leaving me
Galvanized.
You all may ask
"What are you trying to say?"
You all my try
To leave here today
Feeling energized, intensified, realized,
Galvanized.
But all you get from me
Will be
An image of a furious God
Bringing the hammer down.
The Holy Hand of the divine
in form of alliteration alluding to rhyme.
So are you alive? Alone? In love? Postpone
Your answeres for now, hold your applause
Until you see this tiger's claws
And you will feel the Deity's laws
You will all be revealed as spies
None but the crows will hear your cries
And the cold, hard truth will break your lies
leaving you
Galvanized.


Not my best work, by far, but it said what I wanted it to say. Some people make believe problems so that others will rush to their aid. They get high off of other people's concern and love, making them emotional vampires. These people flock to those who genuinely care for others, and they feed. The only way to stop it is to shock some sense into them.