So “Tired of Being Tired”- Gratefulness is Next to Godliness

I’m really tired of feeling sorry for myself. It’s been happening a lot lately. I feel noble for holding it in, though. I believe I myself coined the philosophy “A tear shed in private is a tear not shed” (Did someone else say that?) 

So I hide all this from other people. Well, except you because you’re reading this apparently. And it makes me feel good. I tell myself that I shouldn’t burden them, it is wrong and unChristian in my case. They won’t feel sorry for me anyway, they think I have it easy. And there’s nothing they can do anyway, they won’t be able to help me with my problem. They’ll only think the worse of me. “Ungrateful, pathetic, naive, weak.” So I keep my mouth shut. I smile and laugh before others. I believe that I am doing a good thing. By not complaining, I am pretending to be resilient and brave, content and happy. I occupy my time with work. But when I’m not reading the Odyssey, playing backyard golf, trying to figure out what in the world a derivative is, or talking to people with the secret hope that one day they will come to like me, I am sad. When no one is around, and even when they are around, negative thoughts crowd my brain.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I doubt that other people are quite as ridiculous as me, and if they are, they probably have a better reason. I don’t know if it’s a chemical imbalance, a lack of character, the work of Satan, a natural phenomenon, or a strange combination of it all, but I suppose it doesn’t really matter. 

I am sick of my own lousy attitude. I tell myself every day, “Gee, I’m so tired of being tired.” I have a little drill sergeant in my head constantly saying, “Grow a pair, stop your moping, get out there and face the world! It’s not so bad, not so bad at all!” Apparently this tactic is not effective enough.

Sometimes, I succeed in being positive. But this only seems to last for a little while. The grief always returns. Yet if I continue on like this, I’ll run myself into the ground. My health will suffer, I’ll age, I’ll throw my life away.

I need to stop expecting so much out of life. Great expectations are the root of my problem. I need to stop comparing myself to others, and for goodness sakes, I need to be happy for those who have what I don’t have, and maybe they will be happy for me too. 

But all this is much easier said than done. Getting your priorities straight, directing your pity away from yourself…

I ask God to help me. I tell Him my troubles, yet they don’t seem to go away. I take matters into my own hands too much. I make assumptions, I doubt, I wallow. 

I know that I need to grow up. I need to learn how to play the cards I’ve been dealt. And I don’t think that having all my problems solved is really going to help me, so maybe it’s time to stop dreaming of that. Baby steps, baby steps towards a nobler goal.


Gravity: A Movie Reviewed and A State of Mind

As you can glean from the title, I saw the movie Gravity today. Half the time I believe I was cringing or making very unattractive faces. It really “pulled me in” (pun not originally intended) because the acting was good, and the sense of tension and mortal terror that they were going for was achieved. I knew what was going to happen in the end, but I just couldn’t help wondering, questioning, feeling. I even got reasonably close to crying one time (and I actually don’t cry much in movies, even though I’m such a sap).

I thought it was funny how you could hear sounds when the things were crashing in space. It was not true to science, but I see why the director did it. Without the sound, something just would have been missing, because we as humans are so accustomed to sound.

And here’s the part where I, without shame, try to relate the movie I saw with my personal thoughts. Why am I such a girl? Can’t I just talk about an action movie without getting all weird?

Gravity. The laws of physics that we naively believe govern the natural world as independent entities that came about through their own means. The laws of society that can seem almost as strict.

I never really learned to use those things to my advantage. I am graceless, uncoordinated, awkward. Just today I picked up tennis again. To be fair to myself, I haven’t played in a long time. But I performed badly today, either hitting the net or hitting homers a solid portion of the time. Not that I was ever much of a pro, yet it’s the only sport that I have potential for being passable at. So I think I’ll give it a shot. Ugh, another pun.

I’ve never had good posture either. I just kind of let gravity do it’s thing to my body. Not to mention, I’m not exactly a walking embodiment of physical fitness either. I always feel like something is weighing me down, keeping me from getting in shape. I think it’s just a lack of willpower.

And with people. I want to be diplomatic, funny, and charming. But my own nervousness and fear of being dull, jerky, and uncomfortable holds me back. I let the pressure, the “gravity” hold me down instead of letting myself be grounded by it

When things aren’t going well, I like to think about heaven, an ideal world with beautiful views and no worries. I like to think that I’ll get there, Jesus will hand me a pina collada or something, and we’ll shoot the breeze in this perfect paradise with puffy clouds, islands and classical architecture. And then I’ll meet all the people who weren’t too fond of me in this life, the people that were too cool for me, the people who gave me charity, and everyone else, all the colors of the rainbow, and we’ll all hold hands and laugh together and dance around in the most beautiful harmony.

I think that my idea of heaven is a little distorted, but that’s okay. I guess I’ll just leave it up to God to decide what He likes. And it shouldn’t just be about the atmosphere there anyway, the most important thing about it is that we’re spending eternity with God. Chew on that. But what I should be focusing on now, is what I can do while I’m here on earth. And yes, there’s no guarantee that I’ll be here long, but that doesn’t mean that every second is not a gift, to be used in the best way possible. So maybe it would behoove me to try and be comfortable in my own skin, to get acclimated to this thing called gravity, and fine tune my skill at defying the norm (but in a way that is productive), while at the same time, learning to love the individuals that comprise this world that is both surprisingly orderly and excessively crazy.

The Miracle of Morning


Last night was a little odd. Before you start twisting around my words in your dirty little mind, I’d better explain myself.

I was doubting the existence of God and wondering if I should even follow Him- much more than usual. I thought about abandoning Him and the seemingly contradictory ideals of Christianity to pursue my own life. After all, a life dedicated to money, power, and indulgence sounded pretty fun. Why waste my life on something that I’ve never even seen before? The worst part was that I considered this route even under the assumption that God does exist. I thought about rejecting what I knew to be the truth. Seems depraved and ridiculous, doesn’t it, to choose shiny objects over the truth?

But just when my doubts were being pushed away, I got upset for a different reason. I realized that I would once again be unable to travel. I haven’t travelled since the extravagant days of my childhood (besides going to Vegas a few years ago) and I was sure that this summer would be different, and that I would be going to Germany. I used reason to calm myself down, of course. I reminded myself that I have many good things going in my life already, so really I’m far from being deprived even if I never set foot outside the state again. I told myself that it’s not that important, it’s not the end of the world, God is with me and that’s enough. Sheesh, why am I being such a baby, I thought. What about other Christians like Paul who had spent their time being imprisoned? And besides, maybe I’ll get to go later, and it’ll be all the better after years of waiting and dreaming. But still the tears came out. Reason was enough to keep me silent, but my emotions still insisted on letting the waterworks flow.

Mentally perturbed, I thought I would be up all night. I didn’t feel tired at all, just restless and heavy headed from weeping. But then I prayed once again and closed my eyes, trusting God to get me through the night.

I woke up feeling much better. Not perfect, maybe with some lingering bitterness, but much better. And I’d had many nice, whimsical dreams to mull over. I forced myself out of bed and made a strawberry banana smoothie, which was really quite good. All while I drank it I was mentally sneering an article I read on Yahoo the night before about how smoothies weren’t healthier than soda because they have basically the same amount of sugar. I guess they were talking about restaurant smoothies, but whatever’s in those things, it’s still my opinion that some good ole fashioned fructose is better than genetically and chemically modified high fructose corn syrup. Whatever, no one is ever going to convince me that a banana, strawberries, and ice in a blender is going to kill me just as fast as some dangerously delicious carbonated fluid from a can. See, I’m feeling so much better that I can rant again about silly things again!

Sorry for the narrative, and the uncalled for health rant. But I’m not that sorry because do you see me deleting them? Well, anyway, that was a little nugget of strangeness from my life, hope you enjoyed it