Two things happened to me on Sunday morning. Both of them happened directly after mass. One was very small, and really had nothing extraordinary about it at all. The second event was incredibly surprising; something that was entirely interconnected with the first. Neither of them would have happened if I hadn’t made those previous and very small decisions. Little decisions that I never looked back at or really even thought about at all when making them.
The decision-making started the night before, when I decided to watch a suspenseful movie with my parents. It wasn’t all that scary, but I had moved my bed around recently, therefore uncovering my OCD-ness, and I haven’t been sleeping well anyways. The movie didn’t help all that much. It was a great movie, but a little thing happened in it that had to do with a bed. Therefore I couldn’t sleep. I decided to read Sense and Sensibility, which made me crave the movie. My mom was awake, unable to sleep either, so we decided to watch it. Which made us stay up late.
The next morning was Sunday, and since we stayed up late, we woke up late – naturally.
So, it takes my mom a great while to get ready for church. My dad and I were ready in about 10 minutes, and she had just gotten out of the shower. She told us to go ahead, come back straight afterwords, and she’ll take the car to the later mass. After mass, I wanted to talk with friends, so I made another decision – to ride home with my grandma, instead of my dad, so I could chat a bit.
While chatting, we made these slight and last minute decisions to take these random turns around the church. That’s when I saw my grandma and uncle, talking with my friend’s mother (who could very well be my mother) and they were talking to these two people from my church.
This is where the little events took place.
-I was greeted in a way I have never been before.
-I was introduced to someone, and I had a feeling that they will change my life forever.
I just don’t know how.
I feel as if… if I hadn’t made the decision to watch the movies, my mother and I would have woken up in time, I wouldn’t have decided to ride with my grandmother, I wouldn’t have run up to her after church, and I wouldn’t have met these people.
Have you ever made a decision, just a simple one… but after it leading to an event that never could have happen without that decision- you realize that your life isn’t going to be the same…
Tip: Trust God – He works in the most amazing and unexpected ways imaginable.
Decisions
Hope, Life and Growing Older
There are few places in this world that I really and truly love. Most of which are places I will probably never see again, because they’re thousands of miles away. Even so, I keep them in my heart, and I continually find myself dreaming of them, pretending I’m there.
You know those songs that you love so much, but you listen to them over and over and over again, and eventually you get so tired of them you never want to hear them again? I admit, I do that… except for two songs.
Viva la Vida by Coldplay and
Hope Vol. II by Apocalyptica.
I love those songs too much to constantly listen to them, because I never want to be tired of them.
I also have a place like that, only a few feet outside my house. I rarely go there, because I want it to remain special forever, just like those places in Ireland, Italy and so forth. I like for it to remain special, so that every time I sit there it’s like a whole new experience.
It’s my front porch swing.
Silly, I know. But it has so many memories. So many memories of when I was younger, where my brothers and I would try to flip each other on it, where my parents would swing me to sleep. But now I’m too old to sit on their laps, and my brothers are too busy with being Fire Fighters and Flying Planes… (sounds like they’re 4 or 5, but truth is… they’re 20 and 21)
My younger brother’s moving out sometime early next year, and these past few months, I feel like I’ve grown closer to him then I have ever been. Even closer than we were when he’d flip me on the swing.
That’s why I only visit my favorite place rarely, even if it is only a few feet away.
It’s too special to get tired of.
Tip: Never forget
Blowing With the Wind
...and her lithe form reached the summit of the hill but a moment after the sun was caught within the trap of twilight. Yet, the sky retained it's summer blue and the wind had no inclination of arresting. She stood there beneath the clouds in the midst of a lofty field of hay. All three objects together moved in synchronization. It was a symphony of quivering violins ordering their movement, not the wind....
The Day That Lied
The Day That Lied
I woke up at five for the sunrise. The house was silent, and peaceful - very rare. The sun rose at about 5:45, and brought with it the golden glorious light of morning. The birds were singing their heads off; the trees were that vivid shade of green that lasts for about a week before it subsides to the sober dark green of summer. It was the perfect temperature, slightly chilly with a tinge of the young sun’s new rays. I studied Theology joyfully thinking what a wonderful day it would be. The day promised so much with all its sweet crispness. Everything would be perfect.
By 2:00 I was inundated. There was so much to do, and so little time. The relentless radiant sun soared across the sky without a second thought about what little time it left in its stead. The Geometry Ch. 8 Test by 2:15 had to be done. As well as three chapters of fabulous Philosophy that I had managed to mindlessly put off. Oh, and that blasted Biology test due Tuesday, which I hadn’t even read the chapter for. Not to mention the 4 weeks of backed up Latin. How it lingered without my realization… I’ll never know. Did I mention the essay due Friday which I haven’t even commenced? Or the Geometry quiz and Algebra homework both due tomorrow? What abut all those sorry Humanities quizzes that keep slipping by?
The day didn’t listen when I told it. It was heartless, and ignored my pressing pleas. The birds still sang their contented song, lacking nothing in their perfect lives. The fair trees stayed green, they wouldn’t even fall a leaf for me. The sky remained cloudless, retaining its broken promise: The promise now smashed to glittering pieces, and flung far amid the heavens. The shards made it ever more splendid.
It ought have been, a grey, dismal, cloudy, day. Silent birds, brown trees, and a drizzly day. A furious tornado would have been fitting. Instead, it was the converse. How very strange and cruel of a day to break its steadfast promise.
Do not doubt me, I won’t forget it.
Tip: Don't trust days.
Tristia
C.M. Esperanza
If there was a whisper, it could not be heard,
If there was a doubt, hoping was absurd....
If there was a raindrop, it fell not from the sky;
If it were a silent night, you just might hear a sigh.
The Master Plan
Plans are but figments of your imagination. Yes, they appear perfect and wholesome in the minds eye, but like all other figments, pink elephants per exemple, they can never take shape in reality. (Ty, Sarah! *g*) No matter how perfectly you plan a day, how impeccable your To Do list might be, something inevitably goes wrong. The lines of causualty are far to dense and intricate for one to account for in a plan. No matter if the plan is for an hour, a day, or the rest of one's life, there are variables for every possible decision. From experience, I know this. Each morning, I write a list. Perhaps it has five items, maybe fifteen. Once it had thirty. By the end of the day, I have crossed out two. What happened? I worked as hard as I could, yet it wasn't enough. What changed? Several people I know have their lives sublimely planned out. After highschool thus will happen, then such and such. It seems flawless, ja?
How many plans come to the ultimate end? But then again, how shall we define this "ultimate end"? Take the example of the long list. Is the ultimate end having all 30 items gleefully checked off? Or is it something more? Do we cross the item off for the sake of doing so, or for the sake of doing the the thing, per se? Obviously the latter. (Perhaps I may be a single exception: I ruefully admit to occasionally adding items to my list for only the pleasure of checking them off. It gets horribly discouraging when you work so hard and seem to have accomplished nothing.) We have concluded that it is for the sake of the act that we make plans. And so, if the plan is thwarted, and the act is not successfully done, do we call it a FAIL? No. The list can be crumpled and burned, but there is a second act in place of the one which was lost. This is the act which conflicted with the planned one. It is possible, though not always easy, to transform all these anomalous mistakes into worthwhile things. Things, as such, which could be counted among the planned items. Is this clear?
In short, we can plan our lives away, and lament our distress when we don't clear the hedge on the first jump, or we can make the best of the situtation no matter how drastic it is. It can be regarded as the Omnipotent Master Plan - we write down half of the items which we wish to accomplish, and God provides the other half for us, as He sees fit.
“If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.”
-Woody Allen
TIP: Climb the ladder to the sun! Keep writing lists, and making plans, but don't let them guide your life. They will never suffice.
Men and Mountains
My dearest Jane,
You once exclaimed to me: "Oh, what are men to rocks and mountains!" May I have the pleasure of informing you? Men are exceedingly akin to rocks and mountains, from my point of view. Perhaps it will become your point of view in a moment as well. Men are strong, steadfast, durable, and cunningly unobtrusive, if they wish to be. This is as rocks. As mountains, they are somewhat similar in a different nature. They, most, are tall. (Yet, even those that are not of exceeding height may be intelligent and good natured. This has nothing to do with mountains, and I include unheightly men in my analogy. But it is far from me to leave possible the assumption that I retain a position biased against those of average height. I speak from my own experience. Proceeding-) Tallness, however is not a vital aspect of man. Rather, this mountainous altitude is analogous to their levels of mens' complexity. Nay, I do not claim that the taller the subject the more confusing he is. Men are undoubtedly quite simple, but it is this simplicity which reflects from unassuming ignorant, young ladies as an intricate pattern of intended mystifying bewilderingness. Mountains are tall, beautiful and simple. Men are tall, handsome and simple. Let us leave it at that. I thank you for you time, my dear Jane.
With love,
C. Esperanza
P. S. I must not conclude without giving you this one note of advice, don't assume because men are simple in nature, they are simple in mind. You, of all people ought to know this.