I want to write about a small precious moment. You probably know them well. They are usually sought out, very conscious moments. And other times, you are swept off your feet, struck by it and filled with a wonder. For me, today, this moment was a conscious one; one that I sought out and knew to be good. And then... I was swept off my feet and my own definition of "good" didn't suit the moment one bit.
Today, I'm traveling; on my way to Hawaii, passing by other travelers, all with different stories and destinations. First, I had to head to Los Angeles, where I'm currently at this very moment. I've been exhausted most of the day and I have a headache. Blah. So in reality, I'm not feeling very "good" at all.
I get on the plane, and it lifts off, and flies into the sky. I had given up my window seat to a young woman, probably about my own age. The instant we get into the sky and get above the clouds, I regret my decision as I look out past her and through the window. The clouds. The blue sky. They're incredible.
I wish I could get closer, take out my camera and get a picture. Yet, I know the picture wouldn't be able to capture the moment. The small window of the plane is only giving us a small needle-eye hole into an ocean of beauty. I automatically want to jump through the hole and into the sea of wonder and clouds. But the voice over the intercom reminds me I'm on a plane, stuffed between too many human beings, and having to obey the laws of gravity.
The plane ride is mostly uneventful, thankfully quick and short. I bring out my book and read a few pages, hoping some of the drama will pick up soon within the novel. And before I know it, we're told that we will be landing shortly. Good news indeed. And then I look out the window again to see Los Angeles. I think, "I better get one good look of those clouds while I still can." And that's when my breath is cut short and I'm suddenly swept off my feet into that precious moment of wonder.
The first thing that came to my mind was a beautiful painting. The kind where the sky is lit up by a heavenly glow and streams of light fall through the clouds. Blues, purples, and yellows melt together into a wonderful harmony of colors that reaches into your soul. I think of those moments in the movies where they show "heaven", and people are up in the sky. Well, I don't blame theme for choosing such a background for a place. I can't help but marvel at the incredibly beauty of it all. In my mind, I'm trying to decide if the clouds look like a soft layer of fur that you would love to roll in and wrap around your body. But yet, when I stare at the soft yellow clouds, I realize they could also be related to a gentle white landscape of fresh fallen snow. It's that white and serene up here.
We had arrived at the perfect time. The sun was just setting, making it possible to see such a scene. I look at the other side of the plan and out their window. Beautiful, but not quite the same. I glance back at our window. I still wish I could at least attempt to photograph the moment. To capture the intense elegance and grandeur of the moment. But alas, I'm not in the window seat, and the small window wouldn't be able to truly display what I see and know the scene to be. So I have to be content and capture as much detail into my human memory as possible of the moment. The girl and I barely tear our eyes away from the window, both enraptured by the clouds and sky. Eventually, we descend into the clouds and the scene is gone. I'm on the ground, wanting to be back up into the sky.
It's these moments that I must hang onto. I'm about to board the plane to Hawaii. The sun has set and I'm only left with the night and its own sky to travel through. I wish I could see such a scene again. But, alas, the sky and clouds are never constant, always changing. So I must be content with this memory of the moment. Those moments where you wish to fly and believe that heaven is not only possible, but going to be breath-taking. Yes. I love those moments indeed.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Monday, December 17, 2012
Loneliness & Love
What does it mean to be loved?
That's a question that's been on my mind for quite some time.
Since I graduated college, I've been spending much more time alone. It's been weird as I come home to an empty apartment and begin to figure out what I want to do for the evening. Sometimes, I rejoice in the solitary, happy that it's just me and that I get to do whatever I want in the moment. But other times, it gets quite saddening. You would like to talk to someone about your day, yet no one is around. You put a movie on and laugh and giggle at the funny parts, but yet, hearing your own laughter by itself seems odd and not quite what it should be. You lay your head on your pillow in your silent apartment, and right before you close your eyes, you stare out into the darkness, wishing you had someone to say 'Good night' to.
These are the moments I have. Like I said, I tend to go back and forth, happy for some chance to be by myself, and yet, still wishing someone was present. It happens to the best of us. And I also hear that this is quite common after college; that as a working adult, hanging out with people becomes quite harder as you go. So I'm adjusting from the crazy college life of constantly being with friends and others, to the calmer, more separated work life, where being adult is a bit harder.
But there's something else that seems to affect my loneliness. Something that makes the loneliness more saddening and harder to bare: this idea that as I sit here alone, it is because no one needs me; no one wants me. I'm being forgotten. I am unimportant.
If people really loved me, someone would be here, right?
It is these emotions and thoughts that have led me to have discussions with many of my friends. I confess that I have been lonely and they automatically apologize and offer up their services for companionship and comfort. I smile and assure them I'm fine. But it is through these discussions that I've begun to wrestle with my own thoughts and emotions, working to put down the lies and to understand 'love' all that much better. It didn't begin until someone called me out on it and said, "Just because you aren't needed Hannah, doesn't mean you aren't loved." And then I cried.
I can easily see that this idea of "wanting to be needed" fits into a very natural human desire to be important and desired. Many of us dream of making our mark on the world, changing lives for the better, and getting our names somewhere out in history. We want to know that we were useful somehow on this planet and made a difference. If people need us, we then are important. Our existence matters.
Yet as one human dies, life moves on. The earth continues to rotate, new people are born, discoveries are made, adventures have begun, inventions are created and yet, the quiet wind of a life leaving its humanly body passes by without a person noticing, except for a select few. So... are we really, needed?
I guess I will stop philosophizing, and get right to the answer "Yes we are needed, but no, we're not." Humans need other humans. When a baby is born, is has a need for human connection: to be held, to be touched. Otherwise, it dies. It leaves the constant connection of its mother and enters into the outside world by itself, and yet, the child screams to be held and needs to know it is not alone. It needs to know that it is loved.
And I guess as I sit here, I realize that I do need others to love me. I need others to show me that thing so-called "love", for they are the vessels in which I receive a wonderful message: that I am valued and love. Ultimately, I am valued and loved by God. And yet, one of the greatest ways to understand God's love is through another human being and experience it. The sad thing is, the kind gestures and actions humans do to one another to show love is just a mere shadow of an image of what the real thing is. God's love is vast and amazing, that we only have the capability of displaying a small ounce of what the real thing actually is. A mere smell of a piece of fruit that leads to an everlasting garden. We catch a whiff and we want more.
And yet, we can never be fully filled by another human's love. Again, it's the mere smell to the feast we truly desire. And I think that's something I can see as I sit in my loneliness: an understanding that no one else can truly "complete me". I often feel fine on my own, sitting in my own thoughts and day dreaming, understanding that I especially need to love myself. I need to believe that I am loved and valued. Otherwise, it will be impossible for me to truly love others, and to accept their love in return.
I need to believe that as I sit in my apartment, that my friends and family have me in their hearts, in the back of their minds, as we are apart from one another. I need to believe that they do think of me and value my life, not for what I can do for them, but for my mere presence. That even though they may not "need me" in this time of their life, that their love for me is still present.
It's sad, but somewhat funny, that I realize I often tell myself "others don't love me" to protect myself. I've been hurt before, like many of us have, and have not been loved like I should have been. And so, I tell myself, "That is not possible. You can not love me. If you really loved me...." and then fill in the blank to a rude and impossible demand. It's easy to keep people out that way. It's easy to keep God out that way.
Yet, when you do that, you then sit in a utter depression, certain that no one could care about you nor love you. You spiral down, pushing more and more people out, so you can be safe. And yet, you are just slowly killing yourself, starving yourself from the one thing you need.
So you have to stop, and tell yourself that you are loved. You have to replay those instance where someone, whether a parent, sibling, friend, or spouse said, "I love you". You have to hang onto those moments for dear life, because evil thoughts will try to tear them away and rip your value down to shreds. When someone speaks those words to you, you have to open your ears and your heart and let them sink in. Sink in and settle into your heart, and let it become a part of you, so that you can maybe, one day, also let those words spew out from your mouth as well. Love spreads. It's contagious.
But first, you must listen. First, you must open up your ears and heart, so that you can hear the silent words that are being spoken: "I love you" and believe it. Don't throw it out. Don't shut it down. Let it float into your heart and plant a seed. Hang onto that hope that you are loved and see where it takes you.
Let your eyes be opened to the constant message that there is Someone out there, loving you, surrounding you with Their Presence. And then, let that seed grow. You'll be in a garden soon enough.
That's a question that's been on my mind for quite some time.
Since I graduated college, I've been spending much more time alone. It's been weird as I come home to an empty apartment and begin to figure out what I want to do for the evening. Sometimes, I rejoice in the solitary, happy that it's just me and that I get to do whatever I want in the moment. But other times, it gets quite saddening. You would like to talk to someone about your day, yet no one is around. You put a movie on and laugh and giggle at the funny parts, but yet, hearing your own laughter by itself seems odd and not quite what it should be. You lay your head on your pillow in your silent apartment, and right before you close your eyes, you stare out into the darkness, wishing you had someone to say 'Good night' to.
These are the moments I have. Like I said, I tend to go back and forth, happy for some chance to be by myself, and yet, still wishing someone was present. It happens to the best of us. And I also hear that this is quite common after college; that as a working adult, hanging out with people becomes quite harder as you go. So I'm adjusting from the crazy college life of constantly being with friends and others, to the calmer, more separated work life, where being adult is a bit harder.
But there's something else that seems to affect my loneliness. Something that makes the loneliness more saddening and harder to bare: this idea that as I sit here alone, it is because no one needs me; no one wants me. I'm being forgotten. I am unimportant.
If people really loved me, someone would be here, right?
It is these emotions and thoughts that have led me to have discussions with many of my friends. I confess that I have been lonely and they automatically apologize and offer up their services for companionship and comfort. I smile and assure them I'm fine. But it is through these discussions that I've begun to wrestle with my own thoughts and emotions, working to put down the lies and to understand 'love' all that much better. It didn't begin until someone called me out on it and said, "Just because you aren't needed Hannah, doesn't mean you aren't loved." And then I cried.
I can easily see that this idea of "wanting to be needed" fits into a very natural human desire to be important and desired. Many of us dream of making our mark on the world, changing lives for the better, and getting our names somewhere out in history. We want to know that we were useful somehow on this planet and made a difference. If people need us, we then are important. Our existence matters.
Yet as one human dies, life moves on. The earth continues to rotate, new people are born, discoveries are made, adventures have begun, inventions are created and yet, the quiet wind of a life leaving its humanly body passes by without a person noticing, except for a select few. So... are we really, needed?
I guess I will stop philosophizing, and get right to the answer "Yes we are needed, but no, we're not." Humans need other humans. When a baby is born, is has a need for human connection: to be held, to be touched. Otherwise, it dies. It leaves the constant connection of its mother and enters into the outside world by itself, and yet, the child screams to be held and needs to know it is not alone. It needs to know that it is loved.
And I guess as I sit here, I realize that I do need others to love me. I need others to show me that thing so-called "love", for they are the vessels in which I receive a wonderful message: that I am valued and love. Ultimately, I am valued and loved by God. And yet, one of the greatest ways to understand God's love is through another human being and experience it. The sad thing is, the kind gestures and actions humans do to one another to show love is just a mere shadow of an image of what the real thing is. God's love is vast and amazing, that we only have the capability of displaying a small ounce of what the real thing actually is. A mere smell of a piece of fruit that leads to an everlasting garden. We catch a whiff and we want more.
And yet, we can never be fully filled by another human's love. Again, it's the mere smell to the feast we truly desire. And I think that's something I can see as I sit in my loneliness: an understanding that no one else can truly "complete me". I often feel fine on my own, sitting in my own thoughts and day dreaming, understanding that I especially need to love myself. I need to believe that I am loved and valued. Otherwise, it will be impossible for me to truly love others, and to accept their love in return.
I need to believe that as I sit in my apartment, that my friends and family have me in their hearts, in the back of their minds, as we are apart from one another. I need to believe that they do think of me and value my life, not for what I can do for them, but for my mere presence. That even though they may not "need me" in this time of their life, that their love for me is still present.
It's sad, but somewhat funny, that I realize I often tell myself "others don't love me" to protect myself. I've been hurt before, like many of us have, and have not been loved like I should have been. And so, I tell myself, "That is not possible. You can not love me. If you really loved me...." and then fill in the blank to a rude and impossible demand. It's easy to keep people out that way. It's easy to keep God out that way.
Yet, when you do that, you then sit in a utter depression, certain that no one could care about you nor love you. You spiral down, pushing more and more people out, so you can be safe. And yet, you are just slowly killing yourself, starving yourself from the one thing you need.
So you have to stop, and tell yourself that you are loved. You have to replay those instance where someone, whether a parent, sibling, friend, or spouse said, "I love you". You have to hang onto those moments for dear life, because evil thoughts will try to tear them away and rip your value down to shreds. When someone speaks those words to you, you have to open your ears and your heart and let them sink in. Sink in and settle into your heart, and let it become a part of you, so that you can maybe, one day, also let those words spew out from your mouth as well. Love spreads. It's contagious.
But first, you must listen. First, you must open up your ears and heart, so that you can hear the silent words that are being spoken: "I love you" and believe it. Don't throw it out. Don't shut it down. Let it float into your heart and plant a seed. Hang onto that hope that you are loved and see where it takes you.
Let your eyes be opened to the constant message that there is Someone out there, loving you, surrounding you with Their Presence. And then, let that seed grow. You'll be in a garden soon enough.
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