Something beautiful

I just wanted to share something that I thought was beautiful.

Last night, my grandma and my mom left the hospital to change and get some dinner after putting my grandpa to bed. They washed his face and hands and helped him into his pajamas, and then they watched as he fell asleep and they left. My grandma got a phone call shortly afterward from my grandpa's daughter, asking if his ex-wife could visit. Len, my grandfather, was married to his ex-wife for twenty years.
"Of course" my grandmother answered, and after hanging up the phone she turned to my mother.
"You know, she probably thinks I got the short end of the stick, but I feel bad for her."
"Why?" my mother asked, as would I, thinking of the twenty years his previous wife had, and the meager nine my grandmother has had with him, with four and a half of those spent caring for him as a cancer patient.
"Because I got to spend his final years with him."


She got his final, precious moments, and as sad as it will be to say goodbye, she will have the honor of having held his hand.

Am I broken?

Are we ever whole?

We, as a mass, us humans, with our weak bodies, but bodies capable of healing, do we have minds that heal? Can we ever heal our souls? Are we, once broken, never whole?

I am finding it difficult to sit here today, pretending as though the project I work on is the center of my existence. It is not. I have so much more I could be doing, so much more that matters. Sometimes you are so clearly called away, the sound is deafening. And yet, my responsibility to this place keeps me in my chair. I must work. I must get a check. I must go on. But today, oh just today, why must I be here? My family needs me.

Is it coincidental that as our country falls to pieces, so do all of our lives? Or is it this time in my life? Should I expect that, due to my age, it is inevitable that the people I love will start to grow frail, and that there will come a day when I am told their journey has come to and end? Should I have seen it coming? Probably. But did I? No. I hear the words "hospice" and "little time" and I think "when did we get to this point?" Where was I? Did I miss it? Was I not paying attention?

Now I sit here, trying to focus on the In Design formatting on my desktop and the stacks of phone calls I need to make, and the projects that must be found and written about, and yet I can barely see the monitor through my tears.

And I just don't care. There are some things more important, more sacred than this. I know that.

East of Eden

It has been suggested that I blog about the reason for my title, and so I shall.

East of Eden is, first and foremost-easily-recognizably my favorite novel. If you would like my reasons why, you'll have to ask (set aside some time).

I also chose it for a far more complicated reason. In my worldview, which is specific to my life experiences and point of view, East of Eden symbolizes my position in life right now.

My point of view was forever changed in one semester during which I took an entire class on Paradise Lost by John Milton, in its original language. I deciphered it, with increasing speed as I went along (the initial pages were incredibly laborious, and I had been known to spend over an hour on one page). The masterpiece is the story of the fall of man, but it is told in a way that is incredibly groundbreaking to have been written when it was (1667 to be exact). John Milton wrote the story beginning with the angels being cast from Heaven and falling into Hell, and his perspective, as all of ours are, was deeply tinged with his own life experiences. Having recently been jailed for his association with Oliver Cromwell, Milton wrote from the confines of a prison, while his own prison walls began to close in on him, as he was becoming blind. In addition, his disappointment at having backed a regime or movement that was overthrown and dismissed colors the travails of the outcast angels fighting to make a place for themselves in a Heaven that they thought was unfair. Satan is the hero in this epic poem, and Milton associates with him more than he does any other character. Milton's view is that free will and the will of God at times contradict one another, and conflicts arise.

Reading this poem is no less than a profoundly impacting life experience. I cried, I laughed, I felt lost and I experienced triumph unlike any I'd every known. It has colored my experiences ever since, and enhanced my reading of East of Eden as well.

The experience of living East of Eden, in my mind, is similar to the experience that Milton's Satan had living right outside of the Garden of Eden, looking in on Paradise and having not a single hope of experiencing happiness there. While that may some sad, Eden was not to last, and the happiness experienced there only soiled Adam and Eve's perception of "real" life, a life in which they now have free will, but heartache and pain. Thus, the dichotomy between free will and paradise. You cannot have both. You must choose.

I could argue that Satan was better off outside of the garden because, aside from his longing for something he would never possess (at least not in happiness) he could see beauty, and he knew it. In our post-lapsarian world, we will never experience Paradise on Earth, but understanding what it could be and knowing that it exists allows us to always strive for more, better, fulfillment and experiences. It is hope, while at the same time, being realistic to the knowledge that what you hope for will never be fully attained. This may seem to be a contradiction, but if I can explain it correctly, it is precisely the intersect of optimism and pragmatism.

What you really strive for is not perfection, or perfect beauty, or perfect happiness, because there is no such thing. You strive to be closer, and to live in the glow of such things.

I think that is we could all be content to live in the glow of perfection, we may breathe easier. On the other hand, I describe myself as on the brink of perfection because there are certainly times when I am the outsider, staring in longingly and wanting paradise so badly. I need to learn to be content in the glow, to be content at my place in the world, East of Eden.

Yes,

I calmed down.

Thanks for asking.

;)

Come on, America

My forebears fought. They fought tirelessly for me to have certain rights which, by the way, were labeled as "unalienable" in our own U.S. Constitution. And yet here we are, undermining them with decisions that move us not in a direction of positive change and supporting the document that this (once great?) nation was founded on, but in the opposite direction, toward all that we despise. Have we gone this far to REMOVE rights from taxpayers? Have we come so far to encourage MORE GOVERNMENT INVOLVEMENT in our everyday lives? Do we really want to INCREASE NATIONAL AND STATE DEBT? Can you sleep at night knowing that you have RIGHTS which other AMERICAN CITIZEN DO NOT?

I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't.

How many women had to be beaten and bruised, tortured and STARVED for our right to vote? And yet, many of us decided not to use that yesterday. How many couples, forced to live in silence because their love, which crossed race lines, was ILLEGAL? How many women, victims of rape or incest, had to resort to DISGUSTING and UNHEALTHY practices to abort the babies they could not bear had to DIE before we passed Roe Vs. Wade and HOW MANY TIMES ARE WE GOING TO CHALLENGE IT? More importantly, you religious conservatives, where were you to help SCARED YOUNG WOMEN and try to save their lives, rather than bombing clinics, threatening, harassing, and brutalizing employees, and protesting things which, by the way, are not even legal? WHAT DO YOU CARE MORE ABOUT? Being right? Forcing your Bible down the collective throat of this nation? Or the well-being, health and safety of its citizens?

We fought for equal rights, and I was raised to believe that we are constantly moving toward them, but today, TODAY I DOUBT THAT. Today I have nothing but fear and doubt for the well-being of this nation. We are sick.

I don't believe that abortion is morally "right." I do believe in extenuating circumstances, but in my life, I make choices for myself, and I would not choose to have an abortion. BUT DO I GET TO DECIDE FOR OTHERS? Is an abortion ban upholding the greater good?

I am not a gay American, but does it hurt or even AFFECT me that some Americans are? Is it my place to tell these AMERICAN CITIZENS that they are not WORTHY of the rights I have? Is it my place to prevent them from collecting the estate of the person they have CHOSEN to commit their lives to? And in our fractured times, when the divorce rate soars and it seems all around us that marriage is broken, society is seen accepting children born out of wedlock and the dissoltution of vows and dreams, WHO ARE WE TO PREVENT LOVING COUPLES FROM CEMENTING THEIR LOVE in a way that straight Americans enjoy? Is it a big deal? Well marriage was a big enough deal to me that I went throught it. Isn't A CIVIL UNION ENOUGH? Is it for you? It's NOT for me. Next time you drive across the state line into Nevada, imagine that you were no longer married. Flying to D.C.? Well I hope your plane doesn't crash along the way, because your marriage isn't recognized. You have NOTHING.

So maybe I "chose" not to be gay, or maybe I was not born gay, either way, I am not. And because I am not, I suppose I do not honestly know whether or not homosexuality is a life choice. But I can think of HUNDREDS of other life choices that I do not agree with, and NONE OF THEM ARE PREVENTED BY LAW. None of them.

Could we have spent 63 Million Dollars elsewhere? Stopping other "sins" like RAPE, MURDER, ROBBERY, ADULTERY...the coveting of our neighbor? Sins that actually hurt Americans? Gay marriage is a VICTIMLESS CRIME, and if you wasted your time voting against it, congratualtions, you're un-American and a bigot. Have a nice day.

Why I try

I wrote in my last entry about my frustration with writing and the disconnect I felt to myself, and this was the response I received:

"now ...believe. believe that you were created to write. believe that the world needs you to create art through words. and then move forward. move forward in this understanding of who you ARE, not who you have been since denying your love for reading and writing. because really, korey, we're all afraid of pursuing the passions that reside deep within the darkest corners of our souls. they're daunting. seemingly too irresponsible and frivolous. but that's who you were. who you are moving towards, is a person that believes these are the very things that will change the course of humanity. we need you to do what you love. i'm with josh. let me know how i can help."

She also quoted from The Alchemist: "people are afraid to pursue their most important dreams, because they feel that they dont deserve them, or that they'll be unable to achieve them."

Was that written for me?

Now I sit here, sifting through reasons why and why not.

It may be true that most of my last novel is now missing--somehow misplaced on a flash drive I cannot locate. The previous novel, well I have re-written the ending five times and never liked it. I don't have much time. There is laundary to do. I have been working a lot...

I used to have days where words just came to me, and I'd sit down wherever I was and jot them down furiously. These days, I feel lucky to remember what I want to write on my grocery list. And so, I will leave you with this: while I gather the strength to try to succeed, and weather whatever response comes of that trying, I ask that you ruminate on this today:

Sometimes you just might get what you need. Now, you can call them what you want (coincedences, good luck, what have you), but I call them angels. I don't visualize feathered beings who travel the world with harps or in old-fashioned nightgowns, waiting to save George Bailey. I see them as God's way of communicating with us in a way that we will be receptive of. For you, a burning bush might totally rock your world, but it wouldn't do it for me (I'd just call 911). My angel was in the form of my friend, Krysta. She showed me, even across the digital connections of two computers, that God's love, promise and hope can transcend all else. She also encouraged me to see my doubts as a challenge that should only increase my willingness to perservere.

She reminded me that we are so lucky, and blessed, that we are fortunate beyond belief. This alone should incite confidence in me. She says: "we still have more solutions and more hope and more potential to see the light at the end of the tunnel than majority of humanity. why?" Because we believe in something bigger than all else.

It's been described to me as the centerpiece of Christian faith. The idea that in our darkest times God can bring light. That when we despair, we must remember to hope, and to have faith. There are times when He delivers, and we must never forget.

I find that I can see this more easily in the lives of others. In particular, Krysta, who is so amazingly talented and confident, she's like my dream alter-ego on steroids. To hear that even she fears...it takes my breath. Earlier this year, I was gifted with Lisa, an incredible friend who continues to amaze me with kindness that knows no depths. If she were the poster child for Christianity, everyone would be lining up for conversion. If Christ is the reason for the light she has inside of her, everyone would want it. Recently she has fallen upon dark times, and my heart goes out to her. Of course, when I look at her, I see something very different from what she must see. I see purity of soul, potential, strength, wisdom, and generosity. I see a person that no one could help but love and a person who could accomplish absolutely anything. These are the thoughts that we should be able to turn inward, and imbue our lives with an increased confidence and vigor.

How do we do this? Does it begin with my expression of these strengths in others, to teach them what they have and what they are capable of? Is that my calling? Or must we find it for ourselves?