I had to give someone advice the other day. I remember saying that if you truly love someone, then you have to belive that you love them even if they're not there. That's what makes it real.
True enough, we are responsible for our choices and our beliefs, and no one can ever change what it is we truly believe unless we change it ourselves. I think my advice was based on The Wizard of Oz. Somewhere in that movie, each of them just had to believe and then they found what they were looking for --- courage, intelligence, a heart and home.
I enjoyed the privilege of delicious fresh oysters dabbed with a squeeze of lemon and tabasco sauce. Yummy!
I turn 30 in a few weeks, and already I've reflected on what my parents think about it. Of course, I still seek their approval and what they think about me turning 30, if I did OK, and if I'm an able 30 year-old. You know, if they're proud. I was mostly impressed by my realization of the things I've learned from them and I guess somehow genetically inherited. More than the physical, it's the similar characteristics and personalities. Stuff like a sense of humor, a creative mind, a passion for independent thought and individuality, appreciation for simple pleasures, never quitting, sacrificing for others before self, cigarette addiction and a marijuana habit.
I still remember vividly the first time I smoked marijuana with my father 15 years ago. He wanted that I tried it for the first time under his expert supervision. Back then, it took me twenty minutes to roll a joint. Thank goodness, the talent has vastly improved in terms of speed and quality.
My mother cared for my marijuana plant when I lived in the mountains for 6 weeks. When I returned I thought my footlong herb had perished, but was surprised to find it nearly four feet high.
Of course, those are just the fringe benefits and not the highlights of our relationship.
They've always told me to always be responsible for my decisions, and always take the consequences of your actions whether for better or worse. Well, so far, I believe it's been for the better. I like who I am and where I am. Furhtermore, I believe, and that's what makes it real.
I attempted to see in the dark, which basically meant shutting off all the lights and block out any hint of light that came in from the crack beneath the door and from the window. It is possible to see outlines and shapes as the eye adjusts its visibility. Eventually, it is possible to sense what is around. As I groped my way around the room, I could feel where something breakable might be or where something painful could occur.
Mathematics impresses me, and I really wish I could read musical notes.
Today, I escape the distractions with a book. The God of Small Things. Interesting.
I took a short walk in the rain.
I read somewhere that the suffering in Hell is magnified by the soul's dreams of Heaven. And I suppose it's even worse if the vision of Heaven is so beautiful and perfect. All you can do is dream while consciously suffering the absence of all that is beautiful and comforting. Instead, all you are made to realize is the pain of not having a taste of that dream, to know that dreams of Heaven will never be a reality.
This isn't Hell. Now where I am is just a passing moment between suffering and dreams. I have yet to see other dreams come true. I have also yet to truly suffer. My suffering is not a repentance for committed sins. True suffering is not a punishment. True suffering is a conscious permission to understand what one does not even understand. True suffering is learning.
If nothing is learned, then nothing is suffered. Therefore, we will suffer it again until it is learned. And when it has been suffered, and it has been learned, only then will I know that Life is not necessarily a path to Heaven, but indeed it is a short walk in Hell.