Drops of Jupiter

I have worked out why this blog is prosaic. It is because I do not write things down as they happen, or even any thing close to near when they actually happen. I let time dull my memories and thus the words chronicling them, making it seem less than what they were.

My mind has been wandering a lot recently, partly due to learning some news that puts many things in the harsh light of objectivity. The news itself being the death of a cousin. Calling him a close friend would be stretching, but he was still someone we all liked to look up to.

Mortality always makes me have a good think about morality, it being something I am keenly interested in. Generally after its too late to put into effect.

Look like Tarzan; Sound like Jane

People who have lost limbs through accidents or disease sometimes continue to feel pain in the non-existent body part. It is called phantom pain. The name suggests an imaginary suffering and yet science confirms the pain is real. I used to find this bizarre but it does not seem so strange anymore.

I understand the ache where there is an absence. Like an amputee who leans forward to scratch a toe that isn't there, I still turn in my sleep to hug the emptiness on the left side of the bed. Every time there are some programs on the telly I almost call out to remind. ....

Morphine cannot dull phantom pain just as time doesn't seem to work on the hurt of those severed from a loved one. Forgetting is the other great narcotic for the human heart. But sometimes, you don't want to forget, even if it means holding on to the pain.

I have tried many approaches to deal with my loss. I am still appalled when people resort to drastic measures.

Of failed epics and absentee heroes

On the other side of pain is a new place. The past wakes up with a vividness and you feel conversations are useless and the pain you have caused is something you fear will happen again. You feel misunderstood and want to provide clarity, give responses that will clear her head and stop the pain. You want, need the other person to understand that you hurt so much but the more you try to give an explanation, the more strained it gets, till the point where you feel like giving up.

The doomsday clocks have all run down.

The prophecies have all been proven false.

My wishes drown at the well's bottom.

The forecast calls for perpetual rain.

Roads to Safe Places

"Perhaps the greatest faculty our minds possess is the ability to cope with pain. Classic thinking teaches us of the four doors of the mind, which everyone moves through according to their need.

First is the door of sleep. Sleep offers us a retreat from the world and all its pain. Sleep marks passing time, giving us distance from the things that have hurt us. When a person is wounded they will often fall unconscious. Similarly, someone who hears traumatic news will often swoon or faint. This is the mind's way of protecting itself from pain by stepping through the first door.

Second is the door of forgetting. Some wounds are too deep to heal, or too deep to heal quickly. In addition, many memories are simply painful, and there is no healing to be done. The saying 'time heals all wounds' is false. Time heals most wounds. The rest are hidden behind this door.

Third is the door of madness. There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind.

Last is the door of death. The final resort. Nothing can hurt us after we are dead, or so we have been told."

— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

Of passing on

Death has occupied my mind a lot lately.

Actually, I have been ruminating about dying at some point every day for the past 2 weeks, not in a morbid way, but more in an "Am I ready? Is there any unfinished business? How would I want to be remembered?" way, which I guess is constructive. At least, to a point.

What's not is, allowing myself to be tortured by the fear of leaving some people behind. As a new believer, I must draw the line of evaluation there. I can't give in to this distressing hand-wringing. For reasons of my own, I have been reading the Bible for the last couple of weeks.

I have always believed death will be like that dreadful moment of suspension. I cant stop but think about the unique relationship of a trapeze team. When the swinger lets go of his bar and hangs in mid-air for a split second, he has no protection. He cannot see his catcher nor control the catcher's speed or method. But at just the right moment, the swinger's "savior" arrives and whisks him to the base.

In other words, we will not be left hanging for one moment because to let go here makes us present there.

There is one particular place where Paul says, "When you sow a seed, it must die in the ground before it can live and grow. And when you sow it, it does not have the same body it will have later. What you sow is only a bare seed, maybe wheat or something else. But God gives it a body that he has planned for it".

The key phrase is: "that he has planned for it." As the story of our life unfolds, we are safe in the strong hands of our savior and "catcher" who has planned for us to be with Him forever. Nothing can pry us from his loving grip.

But for the more Am I ready? Is there any unfinished business parts - there was this song by Seals & Crofts that my cousin sister gave me years ago that I have on looped play.

windflowers, my father told me not to go near them
he said he feared them always and he told me that they carried him away

windflowers, beautiful windflowers
i couldn't wait to touch them,
to smell them i held them closely
and now i cannot break away
their sweet bouquet disappears
like the vapor in the desert
so take a warning

windflowers, ancient windflowers
their beauty captures every young dreamer who lingers near them
but ancient windflowers, i love you

Melancholic thoughts before the lights go out

It’s a melancholic Thursday. Hell, it’s been a melancholic week. I’m reminded daily of how blessed I am, but it doesn’t make it any easier to get past some of the emotional junk that creeps up on me when I’m not looking.

I do feel more organized though. Last night I skipped out on bingeing and general television to do those bills and straighten up the territory a little. It’s amazing to me that I have been in my current role for almost six months now. But there are still pockets of unattended crap sitting around, which obviously means I still have way too much stuff to do. I’ve slowly pulled away from the commitment to live simply and the conviction to turn back towards that casual lifestyle is growing stronger by the day. I have lived a lifestyle of plenty and can easily afford to give up many of the objects and wants I have so easily elevated to a status of need and possibly even worship.

My heart is pretty torn right now with thoughts of my second cousin. A good kid. Loved his mom. Went to college. Kept at the studies. Had grand plans. Kept the world turning.

He's now in a coma after a road accident. Been 5 days now. And I know that his parents have struggled for the past few days with his health, but being confronted with the reality of death is always a sobering thought. The most recent news is not positive, and I know that at any point I might receive that call from my dad with news.

I only got to know of the entire incident when I got back from Delhi on Monday. When I found out that his mom was at the hospital fighting back tears, I headed straight for the hospital from the airport. Strong, resolute woman. I keep wondering if I should head home now to be with her, but part of me has hope that her son is going to pull through just like she has in the past. However, listening to news that his health is steadily deteriorating over sporadic phone calls has been heartbreaking, and watching their will to fight the inevitable has just compounded to make my heart heavy every time I close my eyes.

Yeah.... Good night to you too.

Jennifer Lopez has been shot

Jennifer Lopez, the popular entertainer, has been shot.




UPDATE!
Jennifer Lopez has NOT been shot, not even slightly. I was confusing her with singer Marc Cohn. I apologize for any distress this caused.



Singer Marc Cohn, known for the 1991 smash hit "Walking in Memphis," was shot in the head Sunday during an attempted carjacking in Denver but survived, his manager said Monday.


Our thoughts must be with Mr Cohn's family at this difficult time