Passion

Passion describes giving over oneself with complete abandon. And yet, it also entails profound suffering.

It is joyous suffering to give yourself completely to another person. It’s wonderful because in giving, we fulfill the very meaning and purpose of our lives. It hurts because there is always a fear there that we may never get ourselves back. And that other person might not give himself in return.

To love someone – to truly love someone – requires passion. A willingness, an aching to give, give, give – inexhaustibly – every treasure that you claim as your own, even unto your very life! For what gift is more precious than life itself?

Deep love comes when your sole desire is for the other person’s well-being. When all your focus is to pour goodness into that other person’s life, you know are truly choosing to love.

If loving a person means repeatedly explaining yourself when you’re certain he may never understand, explain yourself once again, with tenderness and patience.

If loving a person means calling out to him day after day, with no reply, although you know he hears you, call out to him again, with a gentle voice that welcomes.

If loving a person means revealing all of your hopes and dreams and desires when you know he may again laugh at your ridiculousness and refuse to share any dreams of his own because he gave up hope way too early in life, pull back the veil and expose yourself even more, inviting him again to look upon you and see your beauty.

Passion – it gives meaning to our sufferings. It enables us to give beyond reason. To give and ever hope that the gift will be returned.

Less depressing

I was in a pushing-around mood today. Wanting to test everyone. Feeling like no one really cared. Being angry, but not strong.

I hate when I get that way.

Luckily, I kept to myself for the most part. Didn't overly embarrass myself. I'll know I'm better when the songs in my head get less depressing.

Second chances

I gave someone a second chance today. He didn't disappoint me. That was pleasant. And now I'm happy that I didn't harden up and steep myself in bitterness. I'm convinced that kindness pays off eventually. Don't laugh. Don't tell me I never learn. Self blame is a horrid enemy of mine and if I have nothing to blame myself over, then all is well.

Strive for excellence, not perfection.

A friend told me today that we should strive for excellence, not perfection.

Indeed.

I want to write that on my bathroom mirror. I want to tattoo it on my arm. I want to remember it always. May I never forget that I was not created to be perfect and I should have no shame in not being completely flawless. Excellence. Excellence. That's enough.

I'm a sucker for sentimentality.

So much for losing track of time. -- The Fuzz, Silversun Pickups

I sifted through some boxes today and found all kinds of goodies. Every single letter my highschool boyfriends wrote me. The newspaper cutout of my cross country crush, which I later used to create a full 16 x 20 charcoal sketch to hang over my bed. My Lollapalooza ticket from August 1995.

Man, I'm a sucker for sentimentality.

Good thing e-mails can be easily erased with the click of a button. But who can erase my memories? I know, I know -- just drink more. But I tried that already and dang it, I still remembered every detail of the night before.

A treasure and a delight.

A good story is a treasure. A kind young un-jaded author is a delight. A good book which will always be waiting for you when you want to settle on the couch and escape...ahh, who can turn away? I have enjoyed all three today, thanks to Jadestone, Gameboy, and Koontz.

walking among the wolves

I am a chew toy that has lost its puppy dog. Is that the saddest thing in the world to lament over or what? It's been a week. Not doing well today.

Someone paid me a compliment today and then turned around and slapped me in the face. I'm struggling to not harden up, to not steep myself in bitterness. What does it really matter if some neff decided to play games with me? It shouldn't matter at all. Still, it's annoying. It doesn't hurt me; it just annoys me.

I need to stop walking among the wolves and expecting to not get chewed up. It was fun for a time. Oh well.