still sleeping.

"your halo's slid, and it's choking you."*

stephen christian's distinct, haunting, captivating voice rings throughout this room. today has been a day of solitude; something that is rare and difficult to snag for me, but is always greater than i expect.

sometimes you need to just turn off your phone and your TV, shut down your computer, and just spend some time staring at the sky, or your ceiling; refusing to immerse yourself in your daily equation, cleansing yourself in beautiful silence.

and then, after you've examined your mind for a while, get some reading in. today, it was letters to a spiritual seeker by none other than the lovely transcendentalist henry david thoreau. i just began, and already it's proving itself.

the first idea thoreau brought to my attention that really hit me was this:
"I do believe in simplicity. It is astonishing as well as sad, how many trivial affairs even the wisest man thinks he must attend to in a day; how singular an affair he thinks he must omit. When the mathematician would solve a difficult problem, he first frees the equation of all encumbrances, and reduces it to its simplest terms. So simplify the problem of life, distinguish the necessary and the real. Probe the earth to see where your main roots run."

sheer, flawless truth.

we're so caught up in our schedules and itineraries, as though events should make up our lives and ourselves.
i'm terrified of the chance that one day i will find that what i'm doing now is too trivial. that i got tangled up in the wires of these... things. this stuff.
it's like quicksand, really. you start getting busier. you keep putting off life itself. and then you sink into society's cycle, suffocating in your regret.
we must strip our lives bare to find out who we really are, who we can really be, and realize how much of an impact our own hands and hearts have. simplify yourself.


"....main roots...."
this is an intriguing piece. home is not always under a roof. your veins don't simply have blood in them. love isn't love until you give it away.
i'm not sure where my "main roots run," but i'll be cursed before i let the chains of the one-up world we've created restrain me from pursuing them.
i will be cast into the world and i will discover exactly where my roots are. exactly what home is. exactly what runs through my veins. exactly how infinite love is.


it's hard, today, to not grow cold and clinical and desensitized. to not allow the news and the media to harden us; to keep our emotions and compassion intact. to not believe we must attend to all of the "trivial affairs." to not awaken the monster that rages inside of us all.
but, for now at least, it's still sleeping.




i made this blog just so i can remind myself that i have a voice. so i can push myself to stop speaking about things that don't matter. so my head can stop spinning. it probably doesn't make much sense.


-c.



soundtrack: death cab for cutie, jon foreman, *anchor & braille, lovedrug, cursive, duncan sheik, bob dylan.