Category: Life Lessons

Happiness, Life Lessons

The Best is Yet to Come

Many times during the day I begin to compose a post, journal entry, essay, random prose, if you will, in my head.  One of the recent ones was bemoaning the fact that my life was a series of to do lists and as soon as one major goal was finished (ie AP tests) another one quickly bopped its head up to request, no demand, my complete attention, time, and energy (ie getting a summer job).  It inspired a mental essay on the futility of life, and the continual tasks that will never cease to rob life of meaning and joy.  I’m so glad that idea never got onto paper.

Next mental musing: Something sweet and nostalgic about the future and the past and the present (those three always go nicely together)  After all, this is the time of last tests, last classes, last hugs, last friendships, last everything, right?  It is only appropiate that something sickingly sweet drip from this post.   Again, I’m so relieved that one never came to fruition.

So now I’ve got two ideas that I don’t want to write about.  You might be wondering if this post is ever going to have any meaning.  Here it comes.  While I was wrestling with these very different ideas in my head (rat-race life vs. kind reflectings)  I had a new thought.  My mind was turning around questions like….

“Can I be happy just living off a to-do list and fleeting memories? Is this the best it is going to get?”  In the midst of this self-interrogation came a refreshingly clear and simple sentence.

The best is yet to come.

Not tomorrow, or in 10 years, or when I am retired. As long as I am me, things will be quite the same.  No, the best will come after this life.  How could the best possibly be in this world that is filled with brokenness and pain?  If we continue to believe that the best is just another day away, we might just never get there.  There is a bigger picture than this life.  It’s not only bigger, its better.

Friendship, Life Lessons, Pain

Fatal Should’s Haves

It’s the should have’s and would have’s that will kill someone. People who know what they should do but find ten excuses that kill their inner conviction. We are too afraid that we will make someone uncomfortable, that we will create an awkward moment. Go ahead. Make it uncomfortable. Make it awkward. When you see someone hurting, your going tos, should haves, and maybe laters aren’t going to help. They can’t read your mind. They don’t know how much you want to help if you never release your thoughts and turn them into notes and words and actions. Because guess what? There might not be a second time. This could be your only chance to change someone’s life. Don’t ever assume that there will be a later for you to muster up your courage and talk to someone. This isn’t about you. This is about waking up and not ignoring the problems around you because you think you might say the wrong thing.

Don’t think someone else is going to take care of it.  Everyone thinks that.  Everyone assumes that somewhere, some kind hearted person will notice that there is a broken human being in front of them and will help them find the pieces and put themselves back together.  Yet if we all believe that someone else will take the responsibility, no one will.

Overreact to the smallest cues. If someone is talking in the past tense about a problem, it probably is very real in the present. If someone is making a joke about a hurt and pasting that smile over their sorrow, the hurt isn’t gone. If someone is becoming more and more outgoing, then they might be withdrawing on the inside. If someone seems to always be happy on the outside, they probably rarely have true joy.

Stop lying to yourself. Saying things like “It doesn’t mean anything” “They would talk to me if they needed help” People won’t. People will hide within themselves before they ever tell you they need you. If you misread a cue and talk to someone about it and you are wrong, that’s okay. They might think you are overly concerned and too analytical but it won’t hurt anyone.  If you don’t speak up when you think someone is hurting, it’s not okay. They needed you. They desperately wanted someone to pick up on their hints and you ignored them for the sake of being comfortable and not rocking the boat. That was all they are going to give you to let you know something was wrong.

Call them out. Confront them.

They are crying. They are screaming. But they won’t ever tell you that. They want you to know something is wrong yet at the same time feel they must keep up the brave face. Tell them its okay not to be happy. Never let something go because you don’t have the time to deal with it. You aren’t just letting someone’s problem go; you are letting a human being slip away forever.

Life Lessons, Pain

I miss you

I miss you.  We haven’t even met officially.  I wonder who you would have turned out to be.  Would you have been brave and beautiful?  Would you have been compassionate and caring?  Would we have been best friends? Whoever you would have been, you would have been wonderful.  When I look into the faces of my friends, I see pieces of you there.  Their little mannerisms and wonderful qualities only serve to remind me of what you could have been.  For as much as I search for you, I’ll never find the whole you.  You never even got the chance to exist.  You could have changed the world.  You would have been someone’s son, someone’s brother, someone’s husband.  You didn’t deserve this.  We all have been given a life-a chance to screw things up and suffer the consequences.  You suffered the consequences for just existing.  You didn’t even have a chance to make a mistake.   You didn’t even choose to exist yet your fate was chosen for you.  Don’t you know?  I miss you terribly.  We’ll meet for the first time in my future sometime.

Yours truly,
Chloe

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Friendship

So I have this friend……

So I have this friend…….
and I met her when I was about eight.  On top of a wooden house on a playground at a camp.   I 47820_430394812319_767887319_4848640_5246758_ndidn’t realize then that she would be my best friend.  In fact, it took us about seven years to get around to it.  In the meantime, we stored up memories in our piggy banks.  I wouldn’t trade them for anything.  Some things I adore about this friend of mine:
She understands me even when I think there is no way she possibly could.

She not only puts up with my obssesive list making, she encourages it (with reason)
She can tell the times when I say “I’m doing good” and I’m really not.
She loves me despite my faults.
She tells me when to be quiet.
She lets me prattle on.

She gives me epipens when I’m allergic to myself.
She goes for the things she wants and doesn’t ever give up.
She’s in love with the same Savior that I am.
I could keep going on, but there is something really important that I need to tell you.  My amazing friend is in a scholarship competition and she needs your help to win.
While you are helping someones dreams come true, you can also win a bunch of cool stuff.
Check it out.
NOW!!

Thanks.

P.S.  Here is a direct link:http://www.collegeplus.org/cpscholarship/vote/essays/oliviakuchlbauer

Life Lessons, Pain, Writing

Imagining the Inconceivable

Brain Damage.
Is a very serious problem. Usually it is the overhanging anxiety following strokes, concussions, car accidents, premature births. It is also used as a threat. Don’t drink—it causes brain damage. Don’t do drugs—it causes brain damage. Don’t hold in a sneeze—it causes brain damage. The validity of the last one is somewhat questionable. Still, we are told and we see how external circumstances can cause irrevocable brain damage. It is incredibly sad and terrifying.

I started questioning my existence when I was about eight. Not in the “why am I here? Do I have any significance in this huge world” type of way. Fortunately, I had unusually extreme self-confidence and never really doubted why I was in this world. Obviously, my presence made it a better place. What I would do, however, was think myself away. I am making no sense, I know. Stick with me.

I had a tendency to go through my life as if it is a story (probably an after-effect of too much reading as a small child). I know many people “narrate” their life sometimes, but I did this ALL the time. It was if there were two Chloes. There was the one that did the acting, the living out. Then there was another one that sat backstage and watched. Every once in a while the backstage Chloe would throw out a couple of forgotten lines or give out stage directions, but for the most part, that Chloe just watched.

I had gotten so accustomed to watching myself that sometimes I would lie in my bed at night and stare at the ceiling and repeat to myself… “This is real. This is real. I am real. I am me. My life is real.” Realizing the fact that the person that I was watching act out their life was actually me always sent my head into a dizzying fast orbit. The fact that everyone was real, that we were all humans, that this life wasn’t just an incredibly complex and enthralling novel, absolutely turned my brain to mush. This is what I mean by questioning my existence. It is no wonder that after these mind games, I would fall promptly asleep, my brain too tired to continue living in the conscious form.

I still do this sometimes, but its harder now. I don’t know if it is because I’ve done it so often or if my mind is no longer capable of imagining the inconceivable.

Back to brain damage. I was considering this peculiar habit of mine (that is, the existence questioning) and wondered exactly how much damage it had done to my brain. Questioning the fact that one is real certainly doesn’t build up the brain cells. While pondering this, I came to an interesting conclusion: While brain damage caused by the external is serious and harmful, perhaps the greatest brain damage is done by ourselves with our own thoughts. What else could be so powerful as to damage our brains than the very things that feed it? When our thoughts become twisted and confused, our brain follows suit.

We can turn off parts of our brain by no longer using them. While a car crash can cause brain damage that is not of that person’s choice, we can in fact use our own thoughts to intentionally damage our brains. The sad part is, that by leaving some parts of their brains stagnant, many people are hurting their minds without even realizing it. Unintentional self-brain damage is very dangerous indeed.

Life Lessons

A Girl Walking Backwards

I haven’t posted in a while as I’ve fallen into the habit of questioning everything.  My thoughts are more akin to an interrogation in one of those white cinderblock rooms than to a quiet investigation of thoughts, feelings, and ideas on a plush couch with a cup of tea.  I just don’t think anyone wants to read a blog full of unanswered questions.  I’m sure you have plenty of those in your own brain.  You don’t need mine.

Yesterday was an incredibly windy day.  I’ve always loved the wind.  When I was younger, I’d take a plastic grocery bag and type a piece of string to it and wander around the yard during the gusts.  I’d name the bag and set it down in the middle of the yard and run to the road and close my eyes and count to fifteen and then open my eyes and chase after the bag.  Once, it got caught in a pine tree and wouldn’t come down no matter how much I asked.  That was the very first time that I felt betrayed. It would seem that being betrayed by a plastic bag is far easier than a human but I can still feel my seven year old’s heart pang and I’m not so sure there is much of a difference.

Yesterday was an incredibly windy day.  I grabbed my harmonica, a journal, a bible study, a copy of the Chronicles of Narnia in Spanish, and of course, a plastic bag.  I went outside and started running.  Very slowly.  I wanted to stop, I hadn’t meant to run, but I couldn’t stop.  I wanted to outpace the wind. I ended up in an emptyish field.  Here I stopped.  To my left was a path that I knew would lead me to the library.  Everytime I had reached this fork in the road before, I always went on the path that I knew.  I knew the path and I knew its destination.

Yesterday was not a day to take the normal path.  I went straight.  Then left.  Then straight. Then right.  Then I backtracked.  I caught a glimpse of a building and turned around and went in the opposite way.  I walked until finally I was lost.  I looked around and wasn’t sure which way was which.  There was no architecture to guide my way.  And I was very happy.  I walked over territory that I had never seen before, that I didn’t even know existed.  Everyonce in a while, the wind would startle me, make my heart jump.  At these times, and only these times, my thoughts fell silent as I surveyed the area for potential danger.  It took me a while to realize that the only thing that could harm me was myself.

Eventually, I heard a familiar tree creaking and realized that I had come full circle to the begginning.  I suppose that could have been the end of my windy afternoon adventure.

I ended up in civilization, emerging over a hill to see a small child standing in the library parking lot looking at me rather confused.  I ignored that.  I kept walking.  I didn’t stop.  I found a sidewalk.  This territory was annoyingly familiar.  I could see years of my footprints on the hard concrete.

So I faced the other way and kept walking.  I couldn’t tell where I was going, but I knew where I had been.  As I walked backwards, I could not see the snow patches before they rose up beneath my feet.  This small feeling of the unexpected excited me.  A car passed with girls inside of it, pointing and laughing at some oddity.  I suppose it was me.  This did not bother me.  I would laugh too if I saw a girl walking backwards.

Sometimes backwards is the only way I know how to walk.  Sometimes playing games with a plastic bag on a windy day is the only way I know to feel alive.  Sometimes getting lost is the only way to find yourself.

Life Lessons

The Land of Angst

*Disclaimer* This is meant to be satirical.  The following opinions expressed in this post do not necessarily reflect the viewpoint of the writer.  You may proceed.

In the land of Angst, the people are governed by rules far different from our own. During the day, they are divided into rooms with further internal divisions based on physical appearance and personal contacts. Not obeying the buzzers results in serious punishment. This is very similar to our very own factories, except the buzzers control machines and not—although some may question their humanity—actual humans.

The transportation system is a very odd one. Completely disorganized, any rules of the road are disregarded. I shudder to think how many accidents would occur if our own road ways were run in such a way. I desired to speak with one of these people and so naturally I attempted to make eye contact and initiate a discussion. Every pair of eyes would flit over mine in an effort to avoid eye contact. The muddied floor, yellowing ceiling tiles, worn-out shoes, trash: everything and anything seemed to be more appealing to look at than my eyes. As I wondered at how I could be that repulsive, my drive to communicate with these beings grew even stronger. Finally, I grabbed one by the arm and inquired as to why no one would make eye contact with me.

“It’s like an unspoken rule. If you make eye contact, it becomes an Awkward Moment.” This seemed like a feather light excuse to me but when I made similar inquires of others I received the same response. All efforts must be put into avoiding the Awkward Moment. What that was exactly, I wasn’t sure. No one seemed capable of explaining it. It seemed to be very undesirable and extremely contagious. The best I could figure was that it was some sort of horrific disease like the small pox and that making eye contact only spread the virus of the Awkward Moment.

Another disease was upon these poor afflicted people. They were all ridden with a strong case of aloneaphobia. The effects of it were everywhere. Everyone traveled in pairs. The compulsive need to be surrounded by people is one of the indicators of aloneaphobia. I had seen it before in the very weak and insecure of the nation but never before in such a large quantity and concentration. Occasionally, you would see a person traveling down the passageways alone, yet still suffering from the disease. Their eyes skitted from wall to wall, desperately searching for a comrade, desperate to be released from the state of being alone. There must be something very powerful and deep within their thoughts that they are afraid that if they are alone they might discover who they really are. Perhaps they are some sort of monsters in disguise, and this is why they must be with others: they need to presence of others to effectively feign their own normalcy.

I wondered as to why they did not leave. There must be something that keeps them within the building that was suffocating them. As I searched for the reason, I found a sign attached with sticky tack on a cold cinder block wall. Wads of gum decorated the majority of the surface. But what I could make out underneath the layer of gum, dirt, and fingerprints was this:
Our Mission is to ensure learning while challenging all individuals to exceed their own expectations.

Exactly whose mission was this? This certainly wasn’t a reflection of the majority of students whom I had overheard cursing the place. Their expectations seemed only to be survival. Survival of the diseases that threaten to kill their identity, survival of the restraints that threaten to limit their imaginations. Anyone exceeding those minimalistic expectations was not looked upon with favor. Instead, the rare instance where an inhabitant attempted to actually learn was often ridiculed by the others. Their own inability to break beyond mere survival had warped their thinking. They couldn’t see another way other than their own. When a foreign substance is introduced in one’s body, the red blood sells and good bacteria are up in arms to defend. When the foreign idea of going beyond mediocrity arose, the carrier of that idea was attacked in the same way.

I remained in the Land of Angst for as long as I could bear. But slowly, I could feel more own senses beginning to deaden, the first hints of apathy begin to creep into my soul. So I fled that place and bid farewell to the inhabitants of the land, with my sincerest hopes that one day they too will break free.

Life Lessons

Confidently Incompetent

“You know, the really great thing is that at least he is confident in his beliefs,” my friend whispered to me as we sat at a motivational seminar listening to a 23 year old in an oversized suit waste five hours of our day talking to excess. With effects quite as damaging as if he was simply drinking to excess. Instead, his main intention seemed to be using the catch phrase “we are who we want to be” as many possible times within a single sentence. I counted seven times as his all time high.

While I quickly forgot his inspirational fluff, my friend’s words stuck with me. Was it possible that confidence made up for lack of competence? If as long as you are sure of yourself, is it a good idea to make yourself look like an idiot—albeit a confident one? For your dignity’s sake, I would say no.

I am confident that the military of the United States army will protect me. I am confident that this chair is structurally sound and will support me. I am confident that my God is all-knowing and that His sovereignty can be seen almost everywhere I look. This type of confidence is warranted and quite possibly a sign of sanity. A man who is so unconfident of his life and the world he lives in would be walking around trembling for fear the ceiling was about to fall down or that his life was about to collapse. That man would be seen as mentally unstable. Yet there is another type of mental instability that goes largely unchecked. It was this type of instability the motivational speaker suffered from.

Hubris is an ancient Greek word that means false overconfidence. While being simply overconfident will lead to one being thought of as pretentious and presumptuous, false overconfidence has much worse consequences. What of the man who is unshakably sure that he will have what he needs when he needs simply as a result of that need? He wholeheartedly believes that necessity is the mother of invention. This hubristic fellow will find that his exceptional confidence won’t save him when he jumps off a cliff, sure that his need to be able to fly will allow him to sprout wings.

You may say that I am being ridiculous, that that would never happen. Tell me the difference between that scenario and this one: a man is so confident that he can change his circumstances by simply imagining they were different. He spends his entire life pretending to live in a world that isn’t real, forsaking real relationships and real experiences in the meanwhile. The only thing that separates him from our cliff-jumping friend is that his is a slow and gradual death rather than a fatal plummet. Both were blinded by their overconfidence. I’m afraid that is the fate of our well-intentioned and hubris-afflicted motivational speaker.

If a man claims to be a bird, we would think him deranged. The sincerity of his belief would not change the fact that he was incorrect in his thinking. No matter how genuine a person is, their confidence in their insanity will not make him the least bit saner. Confidence is invaluable; it inspires armies and sets uneasy minds at rest. It is only when we are overly sure of things that are utterly false that we run the risk of jumping wing-less off of a cliff.

Happiness, Life Lessons

Theory #3 Happiness is….

Happiness is……..unnecessary? No, I believe it serves a purpose. Self-serving? Most often, its a peanuts_happinesspersonal prize. The meaning of life? Definitely not. It’s so easy to get caught up in the life-long pursuit of happiness. Obviously, it is something deemed important even by our forefathers, but is it really a fulfilling prize? Happiness comes in many shapes and forms but ultimately it is self-seeking. Also, it tends to be very exclusive. The things that make me happy won’t necessarily make others around me happy. It usually only benefits yourself.
So often, happiness has become the underlying motivation behind the majority of our actions.  Yet we are never truly satisfied.  There is always that yearning for something more, something a bit greater than ourselves, something a bit better than what there could ever be.  Happiness never travels alone, it constantly coupled with expectations.  We are happy when our expectations are met and we are unhappy when they are not met.  The problem is: people, weather, circumstances, opportunities, the ice cream flavor of the day, events, and life is rarely as we would have it be.  This results in disappointments which results in unhappiness which results in an insignificant life?  Incorrect.

The goal of our lives is not to be as happy as possible at all possible moments as we attempt to store up happiness for those unhappy days that always seem to be around the corner and cast a shadow on the happiness that we are happily enjoying in those happy moments. (happy appeared six times in the last sentence if you were wondering)  For me, the goal of my life is to serve my Creator and the one who gave His life to save mine.

All this to say, my third theory of life is as follows: Happiness should not be the center of our lives (it is a nice perk) as it will usually disappoint and can be quite hollow.
Oh look!  Below are lyrics that wrap it up quite nicely.  You could have just read them instead of my long-winded post.
“Happiness is overrated
It always lets me down
It’s artificially inflated
She’s a flirts and she burns me every time
Happiness is just a dream and nothings what it seems”
Church Life, Life Lessons

A Very Honest Christmas Message

I was thinking about starting this blog off with some blithe remarks on how fast time is going, the beauty of Christmas lights, or how awesome the Thai food was that I just ate this evening.  But honestly, that has nothing to do with what I want to say and will just waste your time.  So enough with pleasant descriptions.

The truth is, I’ve lost Christmas in the act of celebrating Christmas.  The busyness of the season has distracted me so that I’ve spent less time with the person that the holiday is celebrating.  It’s ironic and completely wrong.  Unfortunately, this problem isn’t limited to Christmas.  I might have just as well have said: the busyness of my life has distracted me so that I’ve spent less time with the person that my life is supposed to serve.  It is so messed up, it feels wrong even typing it.  I’ve recently felt very torn with the different relationships in my life.  No matter what I do, I feel that I am disappointing someone.  It doesn’t have to be that way.  The selfish head in my voice says “That’s right!  If everyone could just adjust and be less demanding and more understanding, then things would be better!”

Shut up. 

Changing others is not the way and it won’t work.  At this moment, I feel like one of those bendy people I used to play with.  Everything and everyone is tugging me in opposite directions.  I can’t keep up this game of tug of war, I’m about to snap.  So I’m giving this inflexible self to God.  I know I can’t keep squeezing God into my life anymore. I have to choose if I’m going to go all the way in for God or not at all. So here it is: I’ve decided to go all the way in.  I feel like who I am in my actions and interactions with others isn’t even close to who I am on the inside. I need to make those two match up better and I think giving the whole Chloe to God will do the trick.   I’m giving my whole self to God and I’m going to let Him sort out the relationships.  He can do a much better job than my muddled blumbering has done.

Maybe you feel like me.  Maybe you think that I am insane and should go to bed.  Nevertheless, here is the best gift you will ever receive.  It’s freedom from death and sin.  It’s not based on works or merit badges. Because you see, God doesn’t grade us on a curve. He doesn’t grade us at all. We are all share a sinful nature and the punishment of death that should be ours was taken away by the death of Jesus for everyone. Did you catch that? For everyone. Not just the “top ten percent” of humanity, or those with the most gold stars. There is no grading scale for God. You either believe in Him, accept His gift of salvation and spend eternity with God or you deny Him and spend an eternity separated from Him. It isn’t based on the amount of good things you’ve done, the amount of money given to charities, the bad things you’ve avoided, or even the sins that you’ve committed (thank goodness).

It doesn’t get any better than that.  Merry Christmas everyone!