Seven Sunrises After: January 1-7
January One
Today—like some others—it was brought to my attention how rare and precious it is to be alive as human. And I was asked…knowing this, what will I do with my hands today? A thought came to me that I may dabble in some watercolor. But I think that is where I suffer. When I am so blatantly aware of my precious life, what could I possibly do as human to reflect the honor it is to be alive? A silly painting suddenly just won’t do, and I am burdened by the weight of knowing my own existence.
January Two
I guess it is just the habit of humans to carry everything around with us. Maybe it is the weight of what we have that comforts us. Maybe we are scared to be threatened by the thought of being nothing. Maybe, somehow, we have convinced ourselves that by carrying these things around, we have made ourselves into something, and that by making ourselves into something, we will avoid melting into the rest of the world and becoming one with existence—becoming insignificant.
What scares us so much about being a piece in a grand puzzle bigger than ourselves that we feel the need to have to stand out, even if in a negative way? Why, instead of being a beautiful part of the ocean, do we feel the need to become a huge wave on the surface, just to make the biggest crash on the shore and then fade helplessly back into our rightful place as a part of the ocean by the undertow that catches all eventually? I wonder…
January Three
Helen Luke says,
“The coming to consciousness is not the discovery of some new thing, it is a long and painful return to that which has always been.”
How strange it is that it is so hard to stay connected to that which is already so. I often find myself drifting outward in search of a God that resides in my own heart. What makes it so hard to look inward for something that has existed in us for so long? Maybe it is that we don’t feel worthy of housing something so eternal—well, I say to myself—you have no choice in the matter. You can open your eyes to your own heart, or you can go on playing hide and seek with a God who never moves from His/Her place inside of you.
January Four
Life is an ocean of experiences. So many times, I ask to feel it all—to live it to the fullest. I feel my mind and body begging to experience all of it, but still, I stand at the water’s edge trying to fish out the good and peaceful moments. If I want to truly know life, I must instead plunge in without hesitation and let myself be absorbed completely, experiencing joy, as well as sorrow; peace, as well as chaos; gentleness, as well as hardships. Otherwise, I will be running away from the very thing I have asked for—the very thing I am made for—to be human.
January Five
We learn from a very young age to hide the things about us that are different instead of celebrating them. How creative and colorful would the world be if we were taught instead to embrace our individuality?
I hope someday—somehow—we realize what a grand mistake we are making by telling children to fit in. Someday I pray they feel worthy to live in the world just as they are. Only then will we be as beautiful a place as we can be.
January Six
If I look deep enough into another’s eyes, I will see that we are cut from the same cloth. What we make of ourselves is unique—and that is what makes life so beautiful and diverse. But what makes us make something of ourselves is the same. The reasons for what we do and who we decide to be may vary greatly, but the fact is, we all decide.
We must not forget the cloth when we see another human. We must fight the need to judge and convince ourselves that we come from a different source—lest we lose our humanity.
January Seven
Each of us has an inner world and an outer world. It is important that we don’t forget to tend to our outer world; but it is absolutely crucial that we remember to nurture the inner.
