Friday 28 March 2014

The Fiend, Cacophony

Why assume that cacophony must exist in a single moment? Why assume that it is unfettered? Perhaps cacophony truly is unable to be transmitted through numerous moments? But no, I will refute such an assumption (albeit without proper evidence). It may seem dull and it may be long lasting, but it is still cacophony. It just does not want you to know how destructive, evil, and detrimental it is.

Have you ever been fearful about making it to Heaven? Last night, I was considering the possibility of acting on my lying and inauthentic nature for the duration of my human existence, and only becoming truthful and authentic once the afterlife takes place. It is terrifying for me to realize that I could only be morally virtuous once I reach Heaven. Beyond the celestial gates, I still imagine guilt being present, the guilt which reflects all of my transgressions.

Guilt is such a perceptible aspect of human consciousness, so how could I imagine anything different? Perhaps it is vain to hold expectations in regard to Heaven? Not only am I afraid of lying, but my soul is in the lions den. What I mean to say is, I am scared of all the evil I have harbored. My heart is held in Hell's Harbor. Each type of evil is a lion, and my heart is the lamb. I may never fight off all the lions. God may never fight off all the lions for me, either.

To conclude, I am not fearful about making it to Heaven. I am afraid of human existence and I infuse my fears toward human existence into my ideas about Heaven, thus making me mistake Heaven as a fear. Heaven is not a fear, yet I tend to believe that my fear will meet me there in its entirety.

Therapy Galaxy

Does a mental illness start in the immaterial mind and find its way to the material brain, or does a mental illness start in the material brain and finds its way to the immaterial mind? Is this a black or white question, or is this a grey question?

Wednesday 26 March 2014

Suppose That

Suppose that I left some words on a page. Suppose that I left those words for a few days. Suppose that I write what I unconsciously left. Suppose that I escalate as if climbing some steps. Suppose that I will put forth a question. Suppose that I will make mention of God's invention and divine intervention. Suppose that I will ponder upon the problem of evil. Suppose that the answers I've seen don't seem to equal the truth. Suppose that the truth could set me free. Suppose that freedom is not enough for me.

Why throw the skin over the bones? It only keeps a man further from his soul.

Monday 24 March 2014

Peter's Floor

Therefore, since Christ suffered in his body, arm yourselves also with the same attitude, because whoever suffers in the body is done with sin. As a result, they do not live the rest of their earthly lives for evil human desires, but rather for the will of God.

As I reflect in dim solitude, I merely fail. In what ways do I fail? I fail to expand upon this remnant of scripture, or rather, this remnant of the voice of God. Though I have heard about the idea of suffering for Christ before, it seems as though I have come to the place where I am truly listening. Listening to the idea? Perhaps. Let these words shake me! I feel like I am close to shaking. My mind imagines a certain desperation for extreme feelings. I do not feel enough! What am I trying to say? I suppose that my question to God would be "can your children absolutely overcome suffering while remaining on the earth?" I am unsure if I would like to completely overcome suffering. Why do I have an attraction toward suffering? I detest physical suffering, but I cannot say with a clear conscience that I am so opposed to the other types of suffering. Perhaps I have not truly suffered before, in any way? I may have been close to suffering physically, but what are the standards by which suffering is measured? Suffering and God are two propositions which are of interest to me, but it seems as though I have not experienced either of them. And I was close to making that mistake - again. Do you remember? Hint: when I asked that question on March 20, 2014. I was close to mistaking my interest toward suffering for experiencing suffering, and I was close to mistaking my thoughts about God for God himself. No matter how many times I leap toward Heaven's floor, I keep on looking to a sky which holds me under.

Saturday 22 March 2014

do you mind?

Is it strange that I think of the mind as being held inside the head? As far as I am concerned (perhaps psychology will prove me wrong), there is no evidence that proves that the mind is located inside the head. Of course, the brain is inside the head, but why assume that the mind is inside the head? Does the immaterial mind exist at all? If so, where does the immaterial mind exist?

Friday 21 March 2014

Singular Existence

Many moons ago, I wrote about the topic of my own existence. (laughs) Okay, I must admit, I have talked about that on more than a few occasions. And it is not because I am selfish (or is it?), but instead, it is because I want to work toward a good existence. My existence is undoubtedly progressing, at least, it is in some ways. Physically? Yes, I become older with every minute. Emotionally? Not really, I feel sad often times. These are not intense, extremely low moments of sadness, but it is a dull sadness. A dull, ongoing sadness. Spiritually? God knows better than I do. Mentally? One can hope. I am beginning to read more. Bought a book today: The Ethics of Ambiguity by Simone de Beauvoir. Regardless of these thoughts, I am on a search for God (Jeremiah 29:13), and these writings are the chronicles of my sojourning.

What did I want to write about? (yawn) That must be the beauty of grammatical calisthenics? Words perform front flips and back flips and dives, and they end up getting lost inside the abyss of foam. Or rather, the abyss of white. This page is white. The screen is (mostly) white.

Singular existence is so absurd to me. I never imagine myself as only being one person, nor do I usually imagine myself as being Graham. I do not imagine myself as being an individual or a singular soul. For years I have tried to convince myself that I am many souls. Individuality does not make sense to me.

I have learnt that this is dangerous. By assuming that I am more than one person, I have fallen into the assumption that I am every person. I have fallen into the assumption that every existing person must be like me. I have assumed that every person must share my convictions, beliefs, attractions, etc. Some days I think of myself as God, perhaps? Now, I do think that God has specific desires for humans in regard to convictions, beliefs, attractions, etc. That being said, I also believe that he gives people freedom to choose. To choose what he desires or to choose what he does not desire. This is purely a subjective observation, but I am also asserting that: God has specific desires for me that he does not assign to others, God has specific desires for others that he does not assign to me, God has specific desires that he assigns to all. But, humans do not have to choose God! Oh, the woe! Freedom is a formidable young brute, you know. Surely everything will not turn out well if there is a choice between good and evil?

At the end of the day, freedom is scary. Freedom does scare me. And I literally mean that when I say at the end of the day. It is in my states of physical tiredness that I experience great spiritual epiphanies, where some deep realities begin to surface. A reminder to myself: I am merely one individual. And as one individual I need to be careful with how I approach other individuals. More so, God's individuals. There are so many details! So many bits and pieces to this life. May I not mistaken myself as being the whole, but may I recognize that I am only a part.

"Do not be quick with your mouth, do not be hasty in your heart to utter anything before God. God is in Heaven and you are on Earth, so let your words be few."
Ecclesiastes 5:2

Thursday 20 March 2014

Untitled Blip

How often is interest mistaken for experience?

Your Doubt is Your House

A blue sky overhead. The clouds are smeared by the hands of God. Get in the car, and I'll drive you to your doubt. Your doubt is your house. All along, you thought that getting lost was your only aspiration. You thought that getting lost would be your comfort! But there's no home for comfort, because your doubt is your house. Neither in practicality nor in confusion, because your doubt is your house. Streetlights can't brighten your mind. Tell me, where is your house?

Monday 17 March 2014

A Man and his Jar

The skies adorn themselves in black, as the man sits behind the jar. He forgets about the windows. What purpose does a window have if it cannot be seen through? And though the man sees the jar, he does not recognize the capacity of the jar. It is too shallow to appease his thrills, and it is so deep that he loses sight of his desires. The jar is a distraction, a false welcome, a detrimental remedy.

As God said in Genesis 3:19 "...for dust you are and to dust you will return." Maturation is sad when you think about it. In some ways, a person is more free when they have less freedom, when they are a proverbial child, when they are blatantly held under safety restraints. It is when a person is told of their freedom, when a person recognizes the capabilities that they posses, that they lose freedom. They lose that wonderful sense of being limitless. And is limitlessness not hope? Limitlessness must be hope. At least, limitlessness in Christ must be hope. Could limitlessness be freedom?

Without any knowledge of the self, he began as a worm. And as his soul was pushed through space and time, he became a bird. He could fly. The taste of dirt was launched out of the ordinary. As a bird learns to fly, a bird also learns of the harsh winds. He knows of his mortality. He knows of the passing seasons. He knows of sin.

I beg to be limitless in Christ. No words have yet convinced me that I have absolute freedom. No words have yet convinced me that any mortal creature has absolute freedom. Do mortal creatures have some freedom? To my estimation, they do. But when was some ever enough?

Thursday 13 March 2014

A Year Ago: Seattle Memoir

To my Seattle trip friends,

I have put extensive thought into what I want to write this evening. Despite extensive thought, I still must admit that I am unsure of what words may spill upon this page. I never became exactly sure of what I wanted to write. I have ideas that I want to project, but I lack conclusions in regards to which ideas will be projected. Nevertheless, this will be an open and honest moment of writing for me.

I would like to begin by saying that even a year later I still think about all of you, and miss everyone that was a part of the trip. I miss those spirits that I was once in the midst of. Truthfully, I took it for granted, and failed to accurately see the present opportunity. For that I am sorry. I guess there really is something spiritual about community after all, and about working together? I must apologize for my sulky attitude on the trip. I still have regrets about my attitude throughout the year at Bible school and on the Seattle trip. Personally, I did not do the best of jobs in regards to my attitude. And that's something I still struggle with: not complaining. In spite of my shortcomings though, you were all very gracious to me, and I do sincerely thank you for that. In fact, I should thank God for that: all good things come from God.

Remember the diary we all had to contribute to? I still look at mine, as nostalgia rushes through each sentence that's printed on the pages. Ha, remember when Ben pretended to be Rocky Balboa? I have fond memories of the parks in Seattle, and want to see Hope Place again someday. Oh, the memories of sleeping in a closet with a statue of the Virgin Mary sitting outside (solace, really liked it actually). I have fond memories of the conversations that took place. I have many fond memories, and not enough vigor to write them all down at this time. Do you feel the same? You know, I really wish that I was better at talking on the spot, off the top of my head. I think I could have contributed more to the conversations (maybe?). Sometimes I said more than I should have. Never have I been great at verbal communication, though I do like to write a lot. I need time to clearly articulate my thoughts.

The experience in Seattle was ineffable. I cannot properly explain the trip, nor can I make the trip "real" in the same way that it once was. "Worthwhile" is the most accurate word that comes to mind - it was a worthwhile trip, I thought. What did you think? To conclude, I would like to impart some words to those who were a part of the Seattle trip. You know, I'm really at a loss of what to say right now. I don't want to write a banal or cliche ending. I guess what I want to say is this: I do believe that God has worked through all of you, and I sincerely hope you all keep looking to him. Hope you all remember that he is the source of all good things, and works through us as people, as vessels. A good friend told me awhile back "Christ lifts us when we can't walk further." I hope that these writings are edifying to you.

Oh, I almost forgot. Some web links from the blog I kept during Capernwray, which have to do with the Seattle trip (if you're interested):

http://grahamgoestocapernwray.blogspot.ca/2013/04/back-from-seattle.html

http://grahamgoestocapernwray.blogspot.ca/2013/04/recent-memories-from-seattle.html

With sincerity,
Graham Scott Wall

Monday 10 March 2014

03 / 10 / 14

The words you speak could never fill my cup. There truly is no conclusion for the pages being written. I've spent weeks observing you and how you aren't here. My eyes become a little wider as the hours pass. The less I see you, the more I remember you. And the less I hear you, the more I listen to you. The glass looks emptier each day. He needs your words to fill the cup.

Sunday 9 March 2014

Love, Germs, and Confessions

I want to write, but not now. 10:30? Wait ... 10:30 PM? THE TIME IS RUNNING OUT GRAHAM! Why do people throw that saying around like there's something special about it? Time is always running out. There is nothing surprising about that characteristic of time, as far as I am concerned.

What is love? I remember addressing this question on a different blog when I was in grade 12. I have more ideas about it, although it still remains as one of the most mesmerizing questions known to humankind. I think that love is a verb. And that's why I'm unsure if somebody can actually "fall in love." In regards to the saying "I will always love you," I feel inept committing to that. I do not love all the time, therefore I do not always love anything. Does anybody always love anything? If so, how is that possible? I am an ambivalent sinner, so please cut me some slack. But don't cut my slacks, or else I won't have any trousers to wear (wink face).

It's painful making these confessions, and there are even more confessions to write. Maybe one day I will be able to always love. Regardless, I'm still trying to figure out what love is! What makes a romantic relationship genuine? What does a God honoring relationship look like? What would I have to accomplish to reach the peak of genuineness? What makes a relationship sacred? And ... why do I assume that "love" is synonymous with "relationship?"

Has my openness with numerous people closed the opportunity for a genuine and sacred relationship to occur? I can be a germ or a virus. I've learnt that I have to be so careful with how I share my emotions, feelings, thoughts and experiences with others. I've taken advantage of people by opening up to them. Does that scare you? It should. You don't even have to lie to take advantage of another person. Never take advantage of another person (especially of the opposite sex) for the sake of making yourself feel better! It's so vile and greedy. It will hurt you for a long time. Oh, it's 11:06 PM. I don't want to conclude without sounding sincere. I don't want to conclude without making display of Christ. You know, I'm still trying to find out who Christ is. Perhaps the more I acquaint myself with Christ, the more I will acquaint myself with love?

Saturday 8 March 2014

A Blood Stained Hair In The Pages

I waited for the day to end, the thought that began the day. And as I waited, my prayers waited. And as I wait to fall asleep, my prayers wait for me. I have run to all four corners of the world beneath my hands, and yet, you are still absent. Nobody is missing in action. People go missing in a state of not being in action, simply because they are missing. At least, their action has nothing to do with my action. There is no action to be found, only stillness. Was that not banter infused jargon at its finest? No, not its finest - its weakest. Waiting is when time claims a dominant position over a human - dimensions are draconian.

Friday 7 March 2014

Touching the Heavens

Well, here is where I take my arrows and shoot down eloquence. How do you feel? Did you have a good day? Did you have a bad day? Did you have a mediocre day? Fast forward, here is my question: how often do most people have a G.R.E.A.T. day? I seem to be alone when I grieve over the idea that the world does not have to be the way that it is. God, it did not have to be this way!

It is difficult for me to say that the days are "good." I like to say that the days are "okay." After all, I live in a world that exists between Heaven and Hell. This world is surely multifarious. But getting back on the correct train track of thought (sort of, hey, I bet my mind's train track is named Thomas), do you find it sad that these days are not great? What if you could have the ecstasy running through your veins all the time? Just imagine that! Sounds pretty cheerful, does it not? It has been a long while since I could say that I felt some pure ecstasy.

I suppose I should not assume that everybody does not have great days too often. But how can somebody truly enjoy themselves in this world? More specifically, how does a follower of Christ truly enjoy themselves in this world? Christ is gone and he was only on this earth for 33 years. How sad is that? The one who is supposed to be our source of joy (Romans 5:11) lived half as long as the average human being (67.2 years). The disciples probably understood the presence of God differently than I do. They probably understood it better than I do. Living in this world of random, material, temporal objects is bewildering. What can a follower of Christ achieve in this world? The world, though physically full, seems spiritually empty. And now that I have said that, I realize that is what I wanted to say this whole time. Or rather, I am finding what I wanted to say.

Why does the physical often seem so much more real than the spiritual? I want the spiritual! No longer am I able to be satisfied by the banal, fleeting shards of mortality that were once so gleaming. I have not always felt such levels of dissatisfaction.

October 27, 2012 was a cold night. I prayed to God for forgiveness that evening. After that had taken place, I remember laying in bed, asking God to take me away. In a sense, human existence had become meaningless to me. It seemed beautifully meaningless. This is not to say that I felt no ecstasy. I was extremely excited to be forgiven by God (I thank him now as I write this out)! I felt ecstasy, yes. But it was spiritual ecstasy. Though my feet touched the dirt, my soul seemed to touch the heavens.

So when will I get to touch the heavens again? This whole article has been a word salad. Who needs structure though? Structure is a facade that humans use for the sake of feeling better about themselves. There are better ways to feel better.

Thursday 6 March 2014

Vase Soul

The air I breathe is transitory
and I am obsessed with strangers
It took years for me to realize
that I only last for years

Every voracious drive
lends me over to disappointment
And that is all I seem to find

The soul is a vase
that holds flowers
And the heart lies
when it says that the flowers never die

Withered petals close their eyes
and fall from desperate heights
Reaching out for their life
while life refuses to hold their hand

I was not made for the transitory
These strangers must fade away

Wednesday 5 March 2014

My Own Gospel

"Spiritual people" are some of the most frustrating people. What is worth noting, and what is also very ironic, is that the peacemakers are the ones who tend to frustrate the hell out of me and make my blood boil. I use the word "hell" here because my frustration conjures up evil thoughts among other impurities - not of God, but of the evil one. But perhaps the peacemakers are not to be blamed? After all, I am really only referring to one individual here (entirely based on their writings, I have never met this individual). By no means am I a warmonger. I would consider myself to be more inclined to act on peace rather than violence. At least, peace seems more attractive to me than violence does. Please know that it is my desire to be a peacemaker (insert obligatory smiley face here). And please know that I do fail.

Whatever the case may be, it sickens me how some people use God as a guise to promote their own gospel. Yet in all my feelings of intensity I have forgotten to ask, what I think is, a very important question. Do I use God as a guise to promote my own gospel?

I may never find an answer to this question. It is just so hard to see these days. As we live inside of these black clouds, it is extremely difficult to know the truth. How do I know the truth?

Sunday 2 March 2014

May(a) Cell - F

It's hard to actually imagine myself as myself. I have to try to be myself. I shouldn't have to try to be myself, this should just be natural! Shouldn't it? It's so rare that I am myself. I should just be myself, but instead, I try to be you. And in a sense I'm happy that I try to be you because, well, I really admire you. I take artifacts of your presence, and throw it underneath the husk that people recognize as being "Graham." I obsess over those artifacts. I was looking at them today. I hope I'll see more of you. Would I miss you even more if I didn't pretend to be you?

A Distaste for Unity

All of us must be lonely. The only reason we bring ourselves alongside others is because we are lonely. People cannot make it on their own. We cannot make it on our own because we are not our own. The lonely man tears the joy out of himself, while those of unity tear the joy out of others. That sounds terrible, but is it not true? The choice between satisfaction and morality - morality loses. Who gives up quicker, the lonely man or those of unity? Until I see God, I will be lonely. I may not always feel lonely, but until my soul separates from the flesh, and until I see God, I will not be entirely separated from loneliness. Unity is a chorus of birds, and loneliness is the nest that they abandoned.