"i look up--on my knees, and out of luck--i look up"

i hate the phrase don't sweat the small stuff.  it doesn't acknowledge that if you don't tend to some "small stuff," it will snowball into "big stuff."  it also ignores that there's some big stuff you can't really sweat other, because there is simply nothing you can do about it. and, sweating is really gross.

the war never seems to change; a constant fight between what's in your control versus what is not in your control.  it's fueled by battles on two fronts.  one fight is to maintain relationships to the best of your ability without being your own casualty.  the other is to figure out an attack plan at what is thrown your way by God/the universe.  they are violent, vicious, and unrelenting battles that often grow hot at the same time.  oddly enough, it's usually when you're out of ammo and you're armor has worn thin that you're on the verge of victories.

lessons in surrendering and self-prioritizing are never easy lessons to learn, but they often go in tandem.  maybe it's the world's way of ripping off the band-aid at once rather than rehashing such a similar pain that disguises itself in different characters.  if you're self-prioritizing, you likely won't be clinging to a relationship or life disruption that you can't let go of.  when you're what's being magnified by the glass, the rest of the world's distortion is a lot smaller.  the glimpses you catch of something greater will appear distant enough that they look like someone else's problem, and probably someone else a lot greater than you.  this doesn't mean that you should dodge what's falling. then instead of getting hit with a cold snow drift, brought upon by whipping winds and brutal cold, you get hit with a piano or anvil like in old cartoons. you aren't roadrunner. you can't outrun life. but if you're asking the question "why is this happening?," know that there is an answer, but you probably don't have it.

don't hiss at what's in front of you and slither between grounds of self-respect and fear.  if something bites, you can bite back, or at the very least, keep the venom out of your veins.

-k.

now let me at the truth which will refresh my broken mind

when i was 14 i didn't get confirmed in the Catholic church.  i don't know if it was harsh combination of life tests and adolescence, or if all of my years of Catholic schooling didn't drill enough guilt into my bones for not going to mass every Sunday or going to confession when something didn't sit right rather than on a schedule.

i don't hate religion.  it's just not for me, or at least who i am right now.  i believe in pulling pieces of many religions that make sense to me, and living life by those.  it's personal, and it's my own.  religion works well as the a guide for people on various levels of devotion .  the religion i've clicked with most is Bokonism, which is fictional penned by Kurt Vonnegut.  it's accessible foundation doesn't make fate and religion mutually exclusive, which is probably why it resonates with me so strongly.  too bad devout Bokonists are fictional. maybe it's for the best; nobody else can misinterpret these face value ideas if they don't exist.  Vonnegut would also yell at me for that use of a semicolon (look it up).

music is the closest thing i've had to religion.  lately, "The Cave" by Mumford & Sons has been my Vatican 2.  as i departed from Port Authority today (which is Hell if we are continuing with religious themes), i walked East and up towards my apartment.  i accidentally stumbled upon Saint Patrick's cathedral, and intentionally walked in.  the rollercoaster of unemployment has looped my emotions from the height of these Cathedral ceilings to the depths of the subways below.  to my left was an old woman with cold shoulder and a formal prayer, probably saving my soul from hell since in irreverently entered the tourist attraction church with my iPod on.   hooking a sharp right led me to Saint Anthony, the Saint you pray to when you lose those earrings your mom gave you or your credit card or your sense of self.  finding the Saint of lost things so easily was an ironic blessing.  being in a Church big enough to pray with my headphones another blessing.  the sincerest way i know how to pray is through music.

station by station, breath by breath, i could feel my panic easing.  i loosened control of my clenched grip on my own life, and oozed surrender to God/the Universe/insert-your-name-for-what-you-believe-in-here.  inhaling the inspiration around me with rising crescendos and exhaling stress with the rhythm of my heart and this song was possibly my epitome of a religious experience, and i understand if it isn't yours.  the rise and fall of my chest with each breath to the beat of an outside voice doesn't seem that far off from a burning bush or an angel telling a virgin she's preggo.  somewhere in between an uninterested field trip of hip high fourth-graders and hunched over devout man in silence and an oversized cardigan, i was overcome by something greater than i was.  a colorful fleet in prayer brought a moment of peace to an otherwise unconnected, unlikely family.

there were people praying in despair.  there were people praying out of routine.  there were people praying out of gratitude.  there was a homeless man sleeping in a pew and employees gently enforcing rules and a student of a photography project. not everyone their identified with the Catholic religion.  not everyone their was exploring religion.  not everyone there was exploring themselves. not everyone there needed a prayer. but everyone there was under the wing of something great.

at least that's what it sounded like to me.
-k.

The Cave by Mumford & Sons


The sun, it rises slowly as you walk
Away from all the fears
And all the faults you've left behind

The harvest left no food for you to eat
You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see
But I have seen the same
I know the shame in your defeat

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

Cause I have other things to fill my time
You take what is yours and I'll take mine
Now let me at the truth
Which will refresh my broken mind

So tie me to a post and block my ears
I can see widows and orphans through my tears
I know my call despite my faults
And despite my growing fears

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's hand

So make your siren's call
And sing all you want
I will not hear what you have to say

Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be

And I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again 

i thought it would be different the second or third time around...

"...but everything's exactly in it's place, and i'm the only thing that's changed, i'm not the same"
                    -Lelia Broussard, Something True

i ate peanutbutter and jelly sandwiches at many Thanksgiving dinners when i was younger.  i refused to try turkey. or vegetables. or hamburgers.  or seafood.  or any food that might have a texture.  or any food that wasn't on an unhealthy American menu and outside of my bagel-pasta-occasional-ballpark-hot-dog comfort zone.  i threw monumental temper tantrums as a blue-eyed toddler with angelic blonde hair but seemingly demonic intentions.  i had a lethal stubbornness that explains why i have no younger siblings.

my mom is a healthy individual, but it came to nobody's surprise that she nearly had a heart attack when i asked her to pass the broccoli at a family dinner on a college break.  a cafeteria aimed at feeding the masses (rated on par with most jails--true story) forces you into trying new things.  sometimes, those things are healthy.  my stubborn attitude had to give.

maybe it's an innate characteristic i was born with.  maybe my parents' ability to cultivate an independent child crossed the line.  maybe it's because i'm a Taurus and the stars made me this way, mannn.  but i'm REALLY stubborn.  sometimes, this is a good thing, if you stand strong in your beliefs and won't back down like Tom Petty and won't take anyone else's crap.  usually, we refer to being stubborn in these context as "strong-willed" because it sounds nicer.

sometimes i'm strong-willed.  sometimes, i'm such an infuriating, bullheaded pain in the butt that my stubbornness interferes me and my relationship with others.  lately it's robbed me of my ability to trust that everything is unfolding as if should; that those who are in and those who are out of my life belong there, respectively and currently; that i am where i'm meant to be, how i'm meant to, and that why i am makes sense on some level to someone or something somewhere, even if it doesn't quite make sense to me.  i'm not a religious person, but i do have faith.

i became obsessed with South Park a while ago and their ability to transition from fart jokes into brilliant political satire.  i started YouTubing interviews with Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the show's creators.  they comically criticize all religions (and EVERYTHING else), leading many to ask, including this particular reporter, if they are atheists. Trey Parker responded by saying he thinks the most ridiculous belief is that the whole world happened "just 'cause" and that he "believes something is going on that we don't know about, and that's as far as i can go."  this simplistic glimpse into a satirical cartoonist's religious beliefs resonated with me, and i take it with me wherever i go.  i don't know if that "something going on" is one God, multiple Gods, or is even called God, or is male or female or has a gender, or is "the Universe" or is actually a broomstick.  i do know when my stubbornness results in my straying from trusting whatever "it" is, i find myself a little lost in a sea of doubt, bobbing thru waves of questions and confusion.  the water calms when i surrender; when i forfeit control and throw the reigns over to that "something."  it is then i focus with the sharpest clarity, the kind of clarity you can't pay for and you can only earn and achieve.  i focus on the right things--on self, and what is in my control. it is then i stop hovering on the cusp of kicking life's ass, and just go and kick it's ass.

i know this. i've learned this. i've learned this again (and again).  i live with the definition and walking proof of this.  it's in my head and it's in my heart but i guess it isn't always present.  not only have i been too stubborn of late to change my lack of trust in whatever is greater, but i've been to stubborn to even see that i'm not doing so.  but the recognition of this is always a sobering self realization, and change will follow.  maybe my stubbornness is in a metamorphosis. or maybe it's just in my twelfth house by way of the Taurus.

-k.

fate vs. coincidence: an accidental, destined story:

a friend of mine/a classic rock enthusiast has a sister who recently moved to California. she went without a job, but with an apartment and a 3,000 mile desire for change. he sent me a text message in the hours and days after, noting the thick layers of irony guised as song waves on his radio.

later that same night at one of the three bars in South Orange, NJ, i heard 'the favorite song' of someone i very much care about, that i probably shouldn't care about. and i probably wouldn't care about as much if these sobering reminders didn't weave their way into my life, particularly in the mediocre bar scene.

around that same time my sister's friend gave birth to a beautiful healthy baby. i don't remember if the child was a boy or a girl, or how much it weighed, or what overpriced stroller they purchased. what i do remember this child was a reminder of how beautiful life can be. what i do remember is that this long time friend of my sister, and new mother, had recently taken on the role of taxed and grieving sister. her far too young sister had recently passed in a painfully long death from cancer. whenever people say it's the 'natural process of life' and that this person is 'in a better place,' they forget that the pain, especially in cases like these, that the pain is incredibly unnatural when the person dying isn't ready to go, and they don't want to be 'in a better place.' they just want to stay.

after she gave birth, she said she heard all of her sister's favorite songs and all of the songs related to her. because child birth just doesn't make enough of an emotional impact.

and that's just music.

those who know me by now know that i think music writes our souls, sometimes revealing, or even forcing ourselves to admit to pieces of ourselves that we may not have even known were there. and if it isn't writing our souls, it is at least punctuating it.

in instances like the aforementioned, i debate whether these occurrences are fate or merely extreme coincidences. and if they are fate, are they fate in the way that we project?

i once vowed i would never live in Manhattan. i don't know why.

i now live on E. 88th street and work in Murray Hill. i hesitantly scooted across the bridge into Queens/Closer to the Mets because i was still unemployed after an entire summer of job hunting in my cozy South Orange studio. i loved my apartment, but having graduated i knew there was not much left here for me anymore. i also didn't have a choice.

i was 'supposed' to move in with people i met in college by now. but it turns out, the economy isn't so great right now. who knew?!

so it turns out, i was 'supposed' to sublet a room at my sister's place until at least mid-December. instead, we got bed bugs (see previous post that is now a wretched memory). there are few things harder to get rid of and more disgusting.

so now i'm 'supposed' to live in Manhattan--which i was supposed to do. i was supposed to be one of those anxious New Jersey transit/PATH people that had to face copious amounts of commuters and New Jersey and New York taxes. i know that i ended up here by a series of decisions. informed decisions. decisions that were planned and weighed and thought out. this isn't what i wanted, and i've never been happier.
i think it's pretty cool that God gave us this free will thing. and i appreciate it. i'm stubborn enough with my parents dictating decisions, who have a direct dialogue with me. normally they have the 'we say so' or 'it's our money' card, but they still let me grow. they also read this blog ;)

regardless of our free will, i'm confident that he (or she or it) is still in charge up there. back to fate.

maybe all of it is fate. maybe it's all serendipity. maybe there is no such thing as coincidence. maybe each move we make is carefully plotted by something greater than we can even grasp. maybe there is a marionette that let's us pull the strings, but still yanks us back to where we should be. i'm inclined to believe some aspects of this; i make decisions(not hugely important ones) based on lucky pennies. before this postseason i would totally accept that A-Rod's post season mishaps were partially to blame on his #13. i proceed cautiously after black cat sightings.

the obvious counter argument is 'then why do bad things happen?' if someone or something were in control of every detail, why would they be so cruel? i don't fully believe that you can appreciate the good without the bad, although the good does taste a whole lot sweeter after. but i do know a lot of people, who have endured a lot of bad things, and are a lot better off for it. bad is more than a perspective check. sometimes bad is just a road to good. sometimes bad makes you see what you were blind to, or opens up doors that you were content with being closed. sometimes bad turns predictable and comfort upside down for the better. sometimes what is incredibly painful ends up protecting your heart from something worse. maybe the fact that i realize this is an argument to believe in fate enough. easier typed than believed.

my mom says 'what's meant to be will find a way.' this opens the door to wear fate isn't always what we project. this sometimes drives me up a wall and sometimes makes me smile from ear to ear. this is because what's meant to be and what i think is meant to be don't always align. or maybe they do. but i also thought i should be in new jersey right now. fate's not instant gratification. that's the part that drives me nuts. fate is usually right and makes us happy. that's what makes me smile. maybe the fact that someone keeps biting their way back into our lives says something about them, or maybe it says that we will learn from the battle instead. maybe someone being driven away for change rather than chasing a hanging dream will teach us to make a change. or maybe they will fall flat on their face and realize the comfort of home. either way, i think it's important to keep our hearts open to what we should learn, rather than what we think we're supposed to learn. otherwise, we'd be learning what we already know. which in essence is nothing at all.

or maybe i'm full of it. maybe we arrived here because of decisions we made with no outside impact. maybe we could have saved ourselves a lot of heartache if we took our own determined paths. maybe our itunes are just a random collection of songs that sync up at inconvenient times. in a way, this would be comforting. because we would control everything except for death and taxes. but in a way, that's no fun. and until fate proves otherwise, i can't buy into it entirely. i didn't want to be where i am, but i'm happy here. even though i made the decisions to get here, i think the fact that i never wanted to be hear says something, and speaks volumes when it does.

believe. believe. believe. don't stop believing. but don't imitate journey in any other way--they kind of suck. but maybe as i'm curing myself of my bronchitis and sinusitis--or as i like to call it, bronchusitis, i'll hear journey and never forget this blog.

-k.



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Now playing: Charlotte Martin - Beautiful Life
via FoxyTunes