The Times Roll By (on Faith and Other Things)

Tonight I find myself mobile blogging from under the covers of my nice warm bed.

I was listening to the TED Radio Hour on NPR tonight, and the old question of belivers versus doubters was the subject. TED seems to handle these things very well, and I will leave it to you to listen to some of their programs if you haven't already.

Tonight though, I am wondering about the cyclical-ness of life. (Inspired, no doubt, by the program tonight.)

One thing I struggle with in my own life is to find a balance not only between believing or not, but contrasting the many different subjective cycles I see with my want and inspiration for a single objective and universal Truth (with the capital T).

I like to be very light hearted with religion, beliefs and certainties. It makes conversation in a secular section of society much easier and enjoyable. Light-hearted jokes about ones' devotion, or the many stereotypes (be them true or not), allows for a commonality between people, and I think that is a good thing.

But when I get to thinking, I do get thinking.

I like to say I began to believe in God* when I saw the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. I believe it was the fact that such a concept could inspire a mortal (Catholic) man to create such an amazing naturally deviant place of worship. When I went in I was breathless by the sight, and could not stop looking up (which is what basilicas and cathedrals are meant to have you do anyways). The 1000 seat choir and the immense size and color of the stained-glass windows were so much to take in all at once. I quickly combatted this by fleeing off to the more manageable parts of the church, giving my senses a little relief.

After looking at the spire artwork, and investigating the tomb, I went back to the main hall. I began to take it all back in, only this time with peace. I wandered up to the place of worship in the middle, and was told by the curators that I would need to be absolutely quiet and non-disruptive to the people in the area. I had already read this on the signs, but I was giving off my American more than usual that day by gawking so much at my surroundings.

While on that bench/pew, I felt emotions which I have never felt before in my life. I felt love, calm, peace. The sounds around me mysteriously disapated into silence as I stared ahead to the alter (another very peculiar creation, look up pictures if you wish to see it.) The feelings were not warm, not terrifying, and not beautiful. They were shaking, moving, and made me question my existance and faith in the utmost factor.

I, for the longest time, did not want to leave. I wanted to bask in this curiosity for as long as I could, to try to figure of what it meant. But such is life to leave us in mystery. Something compelled me to get up and leave, and forever admire a still unfinished piece of art.

This leads me to now, when I bid farewell to one of my friends as she heads off from her VISTA position to begin and continue her life in California. It brings up the question for me: Is this just a part of a cycle where shufflers get shuffled, the deck gets rearranged, and we start a new hand? What if I don't like that?

What if I had just settled down to a comfy college lifestyle, yet to have it completed, compacted, and presented to me in a piece of paper?

Or in contrast: Do I even want to try to seek stability in my life right now? Having an anchor is good, but pulling it up when you have finally gotten to know the harbormaster allows you to continue on the journey across the ocean.

What or where is that balance? Is there even supposed to be a balance? What happens when a grand adventure goes wrong, and you find yourself stranded in the doldrums... Alone and by yourself.

Is there a cyclical wind which will pick you up again, or should you have faith that a solid anchor, with enough work and time, will bring the continents to you?

Bringing Me Back To Those Hills

The presence of my college keeps breaking through to me like Rose's faintly heard messages to the Doctor, or the crack on the bedroom wall that was not supposed to be anywhere.

The memories keep coming back about how much a wonderful life I led at that place. Up until now, I have seemed to work on a routine, always going four years, dropping down, beginning anew, resetting the equation. But now... Now I don't want to forget. I don't want to start fresh this time.

I want to go back. I want to continue with what was once was.

High school was miserable. I wanted a complete reset in life, one to start again from square one. I feel, looking back on it, I left some people in the dark, some people I highly regret leaving there... But at the time, I wanted the change.

So I had it. I went off to college some odd 400 miles away. Enough to drive in a day, but not enough to drive on a regular basis. A good distancing from my old life. And things were great. The world was a mystical place, full of new experiences and potential.

Then came the wear and tear of academic life. The sleepless nights, the endless fun with friends, the constant research. All of it came to a point of acclimation. I had figured it out. I had done the best, and completed the curriculum. I had won college.

And then, in a blur and flurry... Graduation.

And summer.

And VISTA.

And now... Well... Now(?)

Now that I have had time for it to sink in... I am not going back to that wonderful environment that I had adjusted to so well. It was lost, only to be relived and remembered in snipets available at certain times and certain places.

But here I sit, wanting to admire. Wanting to hold my college up high, hold my place and my friends up in a glory of pride!

Pride? Is this what it feels like to be proud? I have not really felt such feelings so strongly for a place, a lifestyle, an area. What I miss so much, and what I love so much, and what I feel so much for is my four wonderful, amazing, unbelievable, and miraculous years at that institution.

I want to share that feeling, help others to love that college! I want to make sure every student who wants, gets the chance to experience something like I did! To have the opportunity to live the four best years of your life thus far in that amazing, pretentious, and life-changing oaken and ivory chair that Wilson strives to tear down and recreate from the ground up! To let you work with your hands, appreciate the office, the classroom, the community! The views, the exploration, the magical fairyland of the self!

But to those who matter most to me in my life: My best friend... and my best friends. My advisors, my professors, my opponents. My family. All those who have touched my life significantly over not only the last four years, but the last eight, the last twelve, the last twenty-two. Thank you all so, so very much for helping me this far.

I never think I have stopped to actually thank you, and tonight, I find all is right with the world, and what not a better time to give praise, and be proud.

Oh I thought those mountains would go forever. And as it turns out... They do.