Think, write and get lost

Many times as humans we tend to feel the need to always have the answers, always have solutions or reasonable explanations to what is, what is not and what lies in between. As we learn more and more, we should realize that we know less and less. This realization may not cause us to have any less conviction in the “why” section of the way that we choose to live our lives and where we have committed our faith. We should be, however, more open-minded in our understanding of how other people live their lives.

As much as I would like to somehow (temporarily) live outside of this body, float outside my thoughts and experiences only, and really see what it is that makes up our complete existence, I am not able to do so. But, I try to see people as a big picture, not just as an action or an in-the-moment choice, but as the perpetual result of their experiences, understandings, actions.

Our world is changing daily and as we speak, what has been stated as facts and absolutes are now deemed as options and mere possibilities. We are afraid to state as a matter-of-fact who we are and what we believe, when years ago, the basis of how we lived our lives was hinged upon those very declarations.

I wonder, where has the very root of these changes even come from? Who has thought to question the way life is lived? Was it someone just poking to be different and to go against the grain, or someone in deep search for their truth outside of the norm?Are these questions a battle to be fought, or a wave to be caressed and rode out into the next phase of life? Are we as a human race leading ourselves into a greater realization of who we are and what we were created to be or are we exposing the frailty of our existence toward self destruction? Becoming our own gods-our very own creators. People with thousands of problems and twice that number in answers-yet no solutions, still no solutions.

Perhaps one day we will confess that we do not know it all and that, just like you, there may be a teeny tiny chance that we ourselves have missed the mark, too.

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Pack my bags

After finding out Trump was elected as our next president, I started to pack my bags so that, as he wishes, I could return to my home country…

Which made me begin to wonder, where the hell do I really come from?? 

Oh right, 

My ancestors were brought here against their wishes, 

And at some point, raped by their ‘owners’ {it hurts to even write that}

That’s the only way I can logically account for my great grandmother’s red hair and white skin,

– I doubt the fairy tailed- ‘our mixed love against the world’ is a greater possibility for how his-story actually went down…

So, again I ask myself, where am I going? 

The muddiness of this answer is found much deeper than at ancestry.com…

Internally I am vexed to point fingers and wage war 

Like, literally go to blows with people who have long gone from this earth, 

But who have left their blood of laws, lies and hate to perpetually speak on their behalf. 

I just want to tell them that we are worthy! 

Shake them up and let them know that we are worthy! 

Slap their faces, look them straight in the eyes and shout to them, “WE ARE WORTHY!” 

Wake them up and while trying to catch my breath, yell at them:

WE! 

ARE! 

WORTHY! 

TOO! 

After all, we were all once strangers on this soil…

God! This feels futile! 

These thoughts and frustrations are exhaustive… 

So, for a moment of peace of mind, I walk away from this reality with my bags half packed, 

Back to my smile…