The Reasons WHY.

The Reasons WHY.

It seems as if life is filled with moments of delayed gratification and instant gratification that make you question things, and your efficacy is what predicts outcomes. However, when all things are said and done, you can’t help, depending the outcome, sit yourself down and ask yourself the famous question: Why? Why did I do that? Why was I so mean? Why didn’t I say something? Why? … Why? … Why?

I define WHY, as Whole Heartedly Yearning for answers. The power of reason is the logical explanation as to why you’re always asking questions. It’s funny because isn’t it easier to answer other peoples why’s and not your own. Have you not found yourself giving awesome advice and not being able to take your own? Or you are so able to determine and map out someone’s actions, and not even have a clue to your own. Me personally, I hate asking myself why, because I will sit there for hours and play the famous waiting game on my own thoughts. It seems as if some of my why’s have answers that are universally defined and then others leave you in the dark. No matter how deep you go soul searching, you can’t answer why? Did you do it for yourself or did you do it to make another person happy? Seriously… why?

Is it possible that the reasons we can’t find ourselves answering our own why’s is because we are the most critical of our own actions? Do our actions actually make or break us in ways that sometimes we choose not to face. Do we choose to shelter ourselves from the truth so that we can delay how powerful the outcome will be on ourselves? I am still learning how to answer my own why’s, because personally I just don’t know if I will wake up the same carefree person the next day. It’s like there’s always those artificial answers to our why’s such as: It was because I had no time, it was because I was tired, or because I can always do it later. But there’s always a deeper reason why, those are just the quick fixes that help us sleep at night.

There just seems to be more at stake when we have to hold ourselves accountable for actually doing what we knew was the right thing to do, and even more at stake when you know you did the wrong thing. But asking why wouldn’t exist if human nature didn’t always question things. Explain yourself to yourself, and even though you may not like it, it’s the only way to reflect and grow. Life is about living and learning. When you don’t ask why and gather reasons then you remain stagnant. Facing the reality is sometimes the much needed wake up call, and the sigh of relief. Don’t allow others to answer your why’s before you answer your own, because others shouldn’t define who you are and why you do things. In the end you are the only voice that really matters, and you choose at what pace you heal and grow.

Never meant to be… Cold

Never meant to be… Cold

“What I really meant to say, is I’m sorry for the way I am, I never meant to be so cold… Never meant to be so, cold.” At my most anxious, at my most stressful, at my lowest moments I’ve always looked for moments of clarity, my portal being music. Yesterday was that day, I was at the library of my school, in one of those very deceiving locations where you think you see me but you don’t. I sat down on a couch and took out the book to the most difficult sociology course I’ve taken in my college career. The first thing I grabbed was my headphones, and shuffled some random playlist. In the midst of a reading that had my full attention, this really hard to ignore song came on.

The sultry, apologetic, pained almost anguished song took me away from the reading. Immediately I was drawn to a moment when I felt exactly what he was singing, that moment right when things came together, to fall apart again. Cold by Crossfade, is one of those songs that makes you travel to a time where you were so close yet so far. Reaching but not really reaching for anything. It’s crazy to think that a man can’t hurt, but hurt took form with this song. “I never meant to be so cold” but why cold. That was my final question, why cold?

I started thinking of all those moments when I been called cold, or perceived as cold. I made a list, of cold moments, my list had the two most powerful moments: For starters, Siblings Day. I stated I was the only child when I actually have three half brothers. However, I said I was the only child and thanked my best friends and my sorority for being my siblings. Digging deeper, I thanked them for being there when my brothers never have been. Moment number two, perhaps the day I told my father that my mom might as well been both parents because he was such a stranger in my life growing up, versus my mom was the biggest foundation of love growing up. I was called many names, but the one I recollect strongly is being called “cold.” What is this state of being “cold?” Then I started listing things cold. The cold you can physically touch and experience, and feel. Cold like the winter, a snowflake, the descending avalanche, an iceberg, ice, snow, and transported myself there.

“The screwed up side of me I keep, locked inside of me so deep…” Being cold, unfeeling, unsympathetic, sometimes even being cruel. Being cold disregards feelings or acting maliciously. Cold hearted is a contradiction, because the heart is associated with feelings of tenderness, compassion and love. It’s warm, associated with good things, and cold adds the negative connotation, connecting it to a lack of progress, and frozen growth, a distinctive delay. Cold creates an unwelcoming atmosphere, and unhappiness. Physical cold, the strongest image, the snow and the winter. Seasons are a vital transition, inevitable and necessary evolution of our planet. It also marks an evolution of human consciousness, and every season in its own distinct form has a deep symbolic meaning.

Winter, the stillness of life, the silence. The world has become an introvert, contemplating what’s happening within. Meant to quiet the mind, and crystallize inner workings. Snow in particular, is a heavy contrast. Very soft, angelic and gentle, but barren and cold. Just like it changes substance when it melts, feelings also change. Snow, the worlds blanket. Although cold, it shelters the world with purity and all things natural. The snow is spiritual cleansing that results profoundly uplifting, each snowflake coming together to form magic.

Consider what’s going on within the next time you’re perceived as cold. I’ve been called cold hearted for showing no emotion, being honest, or choosing to guard my feelings. But why not call me guarded, and not cold hearted? However, stop to question: What needs strengthening? Release? What would we like to reveal about ourselves when the sunshine returns and the heat melts your avalanche granting you a new beginning? It’s not about being cold hearted, but giving yourself room to grow, transform, and evolve. The only way to go from here is up.

 

Survival of the Fittest

Survival of the Fittest

Survival of the fittest, derived from science, the Darwinist approach that species are created with different characteristics and features to adapt to their environment. Through natural selection and changes in the environmental sphere, the disintegration the weak will naturally occur through evolution. Only the species that withstood change, and those that are better fit to their environment survive, despite the extinction of others.  Survival of the fittest applies to the concept that only the strong survive.

Interesting thought, what if you have exercised survival of the fittest for some aspects of your life but not all. You were a horrible student, so you started studying more and actually rewriting your notes and suddenly you adapted and became better. You were a horrible daughter who barely saw her mom during the week, so you chose to hang out with your friends less and stay home and bond over dinner, card games that you grew up playing with her, and conversation. She felt more a part of your life and then you were okay again.

However, you get into that relationship that changes everything. A car accident became the foundation of a love that could withstand anything. Water fights, drunken nights, late night trips, emotions coinciding at four in the morning. External forces resulted in difficulty, grieving seemed to define what was left. Things hit the fan, and you cry about it. Eventually you decide to numb the pain, to capture the beauty of the pouring rain. You result to the substances that make it go away, and remember the things that made you stay. You seal your heart with the reasons why, why it wouldn’t work, why you can’t come back.

Then you tell yourself you have moved on. That very moment you tell yourself you’ve moved on; you have “adapted.” You feel strong, you start seeking out to live your life. You tell yourself nothing else matters, and you do what results in quick fixes to the maddening reality. You undermine what you’ve caused and the monster you have created; you undermine rules of common courtesy. Challenging what you stood for, this rebellious side, to further tell yourself that you don’t care, and nothing matters but your own happiness. Regardless, this time period of so called recollection and finding your way, rather than making you stronger has made you weaker. Only because you haven’t “adapted,” you are on the verge of extinction. More vulnerable, more resistant, more anxious, more scared, constantly fearing what you will make of your future, because everything you thought was your future just disintegrated, and you played your role in it never coming whole again.

Love truly does make the world go around. Albus Dumbledore once said, “Don’t pity the dead, pity the living. And above all, pity those who live without love,” living in a world with no love, is like living in a world where your colors are dull, where music is just noise with no meaning, it takes away from beauty and motivation and goals. Love doesn’t necessarily mean a romantic relationship, although those do play a huge impact, maybe the most painful impact, particularly in my life. You fail to remember that self-love is the best form of love out there. When you lie to yourself, you are choosing to love yourself less. Love is based on honesty and trust and you have already broken the first rule by choosing to lie to yourself, convincing yourself that you are over it when you truly aren’t. Cheating yourself of reality and trusting yourself less by questioning if you are strong enough, but you chose to lie because it was easier. It’s okay to admit you were wrong, as humans we all make mistakes as we set out to earn wisdom in life. However, convincing yourself you are okay when you aren’t results in the purest form of self-deception. You can’t fully love, trust or dedicate yourself to another without having full dedication to yourself first. After owning up to your shortcomings, you may feel a gush of pain, but that only means you are allowing yourself to feel, and truly move on the right way.

Survival of the fittest in self applies to the realization that you are not perfect but perfect in your own way. Allowing yourself self-love, in order to more effectively love others. It also means learning when to let go, even when in your psychological mental state, you believe that your object of desire is begging you not to. The pain just makes it real, and remaining hopeful and keeping an open foundation of faith goes a long way. Every night comes to an end, to pave the way for a better beginning. They say it’s better to have loved and lost, than to never have found love at all. But never love and lose yourself, because you are your truest form of love, and your biggest support system.

One for sorrow, two for mirth…

One for sorrow, two for mirth…

This morning I had it happen again. I was actually all in my emotions of fear and I really didn’t know what to think, or how to react. Everyone who knows me, knows that I suffer from really bad nightmares and I find myself completely obsessed with finding meaning to everything. Last night I actually was caught up writing a paper, I was groggy and I fell into this really deep sleep. I dreamt of a field full of blackberries, and I was walking alongside my best friend. I remember feeling this eerie feeling, it was foggy and cold, and I remember telling my best friend that it was a bad idea to come here. He smiled his smile, and convinced me to walk along this dirt road, leading to more berries. I trusted him and continued to walk further. It started pouring, rain everywhere, sneakers consumed with mud from the road, I was tasting the coconut product dripping from my hair, down my face, and my best friend disappeared. In anguish I screamed his name, running along this dirt road trying to find a means to an end, screaming his name and there it was. This crow sitting on top of this boulder like rock, slammed in the middle of my dirt road. I was horrified, I didn’t know what this creepy bird was doing there, it made me feel uncomfortable and uncertain of my safety.

I wake up, its about 5am, the dream woke me up uneasy. I was super groggy seeing as how I went to bed at 3. My initial reaction was to look outside. My house is actually located in front of these auto shops, and they have low rooftops that you can see from looking outside my window. It was freezing this morning, it was crazy but there it was, this crow. It was way bigger than a pigeon and as black as obsolete darkness. I was so scared, and I started writing this post. I just didn’t know what it could possibly mean, I was shook, just the way it was facing my house freaked me out. When I went to look out of my window again, it was gone. But it was a crow! The only other time I ever saw a crow; I was hand in hand with who I thought was my soul mate walking out of the mall out in Staten Island. Next to his car was this huge crow, sitting on top of the roof of the car parked next to us, who seemed to consume me with its stare as I walked towards the car. I felt this bone chilling, Halloween mood take over and my immediate reaction was running to the car. I was scared to run because I thought I would scare it, but I ran anyways, got in the car and it was staring at me.

This was now the second time I saw a crow, looking at me. Not just any look but this bone chilling, life stops look. It created this distant cold feeling, like the world was perfectly still except me and these black eyes. But today, I needed to do some research. One of my really close friends and advisor actually showed me a poem, about crows and what seeing a number of crows mean. “One for sorrow, two for mirth…” and I am currently up to two.

One meant sorrow, when I saw my first crow, I was hand in hand with what I believed was my first love, but at that point it was almost apparent my relationship was over. The first crow symbolizes sorrow, an unhappy event, a turn for the worst and a loss maybe death. A part of me died when that relationship ended. I felt as if my life was an avalanche, it collected the cold snowy mass and out of nowhere it was released into the world off the mountain tops almost suddenly destroying everything in its path, that was my relationship. Gone and shattered into the abys. The second crow, a surprise, a change for the better, sometimes the finding of something. I truly hope that what’s to come truly does bless me with positive fruition. Never to judge a book based of its cover, or define everything by looking at the surface because there is so much more than that. Graduation is around the corner, a new beginning. Although I still see myself in a transition phase, writing has truly helped me explore my joys and self love. Crows are ultimately a sign of change, and providing clear messages as well as guidance to your next steps. It’s a symbol to pay attention to your thoughts and to the omens around you. Seeing a crow just means that the messages being sent to you are clearer than they have ever been. The crow is a messenger also sending a personal warning to step back, put things in perspective and being clear of your desires to manifest personal goals. When a crow enters your dreams and is watching you, it is a good omen of positive changes to come in your life, but it can ultimately be a warning that continuing your current path may result as a warning sign too. I hope everything coming is amazing!

Ancient Greeks experienced the crow when it was white. The white crow gave Apollo (the God of Prophecy) bad news and Apollo turned it black to mark it as displeasure. From then onwards, the crow kept secrets to herself in effort to protect her blood and her knowledge. The crow is all abut individuality, being bold, humble and embarking in mystery and the unknown expecting whatever outcome. Graduation, career, love, and fruition, I am coming to get you!

The Realness of your Reality

The Realness of your Reality

What defines reality? I ask this because reality is based off perception. Then perception is based of an individual experience, and every individual is made different. Meaning everyone has this different individualized, reality. How can you tell when something is real? The phrases and the questions tied to reality are often peculiar too: does if feel real? What does something real feel like exactly? I catch people saying “Real Talk” all the time, but what distinguishes dialogue and conversation from this so called “Real Talk” that you seem to be having. But going back to these peculiar statements, often framed as questions: How can you feel realness? How do you know when realness approaches you? How do you know when realness is so up in your face that you are almost up close and personal making out with it, to then think am I really making out with it? Is it really up in my face?

Time travel with me, because it seems like some realness never changes. The perplexity of your dreams. How far fetched, how far reaching, how unreal they can be. However, they are very much our own interpretation of realness because we set out to attain them, live them, accomplish them, these dreams. No matter how complex, or how unrealistic, we live life with that goal of living our dreams.

I will borrow some words from my favorite author of all time, J.K Rowling, in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows there was a particular moment where it all comes together: “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?’ But there it is, exactly that. Our perception of what is real begins with what we are envisioning, followed by an emotion it evokes and then if it makes us feel uncomfortable we then question the validity of its “realness.” But if it was in your head, it was real to you that very moment you envisioned it.

I grew up an only child living with my mom in Brooklyn. We had this dingy run down sort of apartment in 46th street, two blocks from the park where I spent the great majority of my childhood. We lived with one of my mother’s friends mostly because we couldn’t afford a place of our own, but what I vividly remember was the room me and my mother shared. It was small, but very much ours, full of natural lighting, my bed against these this long panel of windows where on the sill I would rest my books and puzzles. Our furniture was basically crammed together creating tiny passages for walking space near the door and towards our beds. There was enough room to sit on the floor and spread your legs outwards in the dead center of the room. In that space in particular, I was a teacher. I was the Headmistress. I used to have these little plastic stools my mom bought for me to sit and do my homework in, that became the long tables that represented each of the four different houses. I never taught magic, but I taught them my science homework, my complicated math and my most favorite, history. I had a whole classroom in my room when my mom would go to work and I would stay home. Reading this, it comes as something completely ludicrous but it was my reality, and how I fell in love with teaching. I knew I wanted to be a teacher when I felt how real and how passionate I became of being able to come home so passionate about what I learned that I immediately wanted to teach others.

Teaching is such an overlooked, under appreciated profession when it is actually the most rewarding. I dream to be a teacher someday, and that is what I consider in your face real at the moment. Although still not so close for me to grasp, it is one of those things that I have a fire for burning inside because its been a reality in my head since I was a little girl. In my head my room would come alive, be filled with questions, and students talking. I envisioned the classroom that had cauldrons at the end of the room and filled with vapors. Although this was clearly in my head, it doesn’t stop it from being my reality. My imagination is definitely something that keeps me sane and driven, which I am thankful for everyday. The greatest of innovations, all started a simple dream, perceived as reality, made come true.