I was walking down the street the other day, and noticed a family of three approaching me: a mom, a dad, and a little boy who looked like his head was too big for his tiny little body, and who was struggling to put one tiny foot in front of the other as his parents waltzed down the sidewalk. With his tiny woolen toque and black leather booties, he was the cutest thing since fuzzy kittens.
As I approached the family, the little boy stopped at a flower bush, feeling the petals and smelling the roses. The parents waited their patiently as the boy explored this new scent and beautiful piece of nature, smiling over him as they watched his curiosity in action.
I walked past and giggled at how cute he was, and the father looked at me in a serious tone, saying, "You must stop to smell the roses. You must!
I suddenly felt as if I should kneel down beside the toddler and start smelling. Instead, I walked by as quickly as possible so as to avoid the judgement that lay in wait for me for not stopping to smell the flowers when my bus lay at the end of the street.
I have to admire the father's dedication to the child's imagination though. We so often rush through life without appreciating the simple moments and pleasures that surround our everyday lives. It's as if we don't even recognize that they are there anymore; they're "decorations" or sidenotes to the main story of life.
Children are beautiful because they have so much awe in these simple pleasures of life. These are new discoveries, new pleasures, new joyous discoveries that bless them. The smiles and giggles that light up their faces at these simple pleasures are what make them so innocent, so lovable, so pure.
So let's all learn a lesson from them and stop to smell the roses.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Oh bother
To every girl who feels alone and thinks a guy will make you feel better about yourself:
He won't.
The end.
---
Okay, so I'm being silly. This is a half-truth though.
I think that there's an important lesson to life, and this is that there is no one in the whole world who can fill the empty spaces of your heart. There is no one who can make you whole again. There is no one who can make you feel valuable when you don't feel valuable all by your beautiful self.
I think the person who is right for you is the one who loves the quirks, inconsistencies, goods, and bads about you, and makes you feel like your on fire when you're around them. The best version of yourself comes out, and maybe they even inspire you to improve on those darker points of yourself.
But certainly, it will never be someone who poo poos you, who doesn't support your dreams and hopes and ideals, who treats you like a child or a little girl, and who doesn't like you for exactly who you are.
You need someone who respects you for you. Who loves that you're a crazy cat-loving, neon-coloured-outfit-wearing, banjo-tooting, singing-on-the-street, feminist-environmentalist-social-justice-hipster-woman, who loves life, laughing, and loving people. Who encourages you to be that crazy person. Because that's who you are!
But if you don't love yourself as you are, how are you supposed to have a healthy relationship with someone else who loves you for the things that you don't like about you? Learn to love yourself for all you are first. You're not going to find what you're missing in yourself in somebody else.
The perfect relationship happens when you learn to accept yourself as you are right now first, and then someone else, who is equally confident in who they are by themselves, finds you, and the little jagged edges that make each of you perfect and unique fit together like the gears in a bicycle. You need some oiling every now and then as the rust and friction builds, but together, you move forward as jagged pieces along an immense and unfathomable path, spurring each other on in the journey of life.
He won't.
The end.
---
Okay, so I'm being silly. This is a half-truth though.
I think that there's an important lesson to life, and this is that there is no one in the whole world who can fill the empty spaces of your heart. There is no one who can make you whole again. There is no one who can make you feel valuable when you don't feel valuable all by your beautiful self.
I think the person who is right for you is the one who loves the quirks, inconsistencies, goods, and bads about you, and makes you feel like your on fire when you're around them. The best version of yourself comes out, and maybe they even inspire you to improve on those darker points of yourself.
But certainly, it will never be someone who poo poos you, who doesn't support your dreams and hopes and ideals, who treats you like a child or a little girl, and who doesn't like you for exactly who you are.
You need someone who respects you for you. Who loves that you're a crazy cat-loving, neon-coloured-outfit-wearing, banjo-tooting, singing-on-the-street, feminist-environmentalist-social-justice-hipster-woman, who loves life, laughing, and loving people. Who encourages you to be that crazy person. Because that's who you are!
But if you don't love yourself as you are, how are you supposed to have a healthy relationship with someone else who loves you for the things that you don't like about you? Learn to love yourself for all you are first. You're not going to find what you're missing in yourself in somebody else.
The perfect relationship happens when you learn to accept yourself as you are right now first, and then someone else, who is equally confident in who they are by themselves, finds you, and the little jagged edges that make each of you perfect and unique fit together like the gears in a bicycle. You need some oiling every now and then as the rust and friction builds, but together, you move forward as jagged pieces along an immense and unfathomable path, spurring each other on in the journey of life.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Rags to Riches
It's easier to experience culture shock than most people realize. I certainly have gone through a bit of culture shock just coming from one Southern Ontario city to another.
I worked at an inner-city church all summer, working with youth, adults, and young children. Some came to a food, clothing, and breakfast program, others I met at a soccer camp, others I met through working with the nearby school, breakfast program, after-school program, and day camp that was running through the summer. There would be kids who would come in with no food in their bellies, there would be kids who would say things that no child should know how to say, and they would do things that I can only assume they learned from someone else. And I loved those children. My heart burst for them. They taught me how to find joy in such little things, they taught me how important it is to discipline a child with love, how much a child needs to, loves to, desires to be told that they have a purpose in this life and that they are so precious and valuable, for no other reason than that they are who they are.
And now I'm studying for my Masters. I've come across people who angrily said that Tim Horton's should know better than to not serve creamy soup as a vegetarian option. I came across people who complained that there are too many leather, comfy swivel chairs in a room - that is rather spacious anyways. This isn't to say that I don't do the same thing too - I've complained in my own time about stupid little things that I shouldn't complain about. That I don't deserve to complain about.
But here's the thing: when you have everything in the world, then you complain about every little thing when it's not there. We think we are somehow "entitled" to things. And it's disgusting. It's plain disgusting. All I can do is laugh at how very ignorant we are to the pain, suffering, and struggles of the people living all around us.
The only thing that "entitles" me to anything at all is the fact that I have money in my bank account, I have a nice diploma on my wall, and I have a family that raised me in a beautiful neighbourhood in the suburbs and afforded me all the necessities and non-necessities I could ask for. Others are not so fortunate to have all of that. They will live their lives without even being able to afford Tim Horton's or a Master's program. They will struggle to feed themselves day-to-day, they will struggle to clothe themselves. And they will - if you meet them - rarely complain. They know that it's wrong, they know that they need what they need, but there's a matter-of-factness to it.
I am disgusting for believing that anything I have is anything but a privilege. I only hope that I can use it to serve others, to serve the people that God loves in the same unfathomable way He's loved me. Help me Lord to do so.
I worked at an inner-city church all summer, working with youth, adults, and young children. Some came to a food, clothing, and breakfast program, others I met at a soccer camp, others I met through working with the nearby school, breakfast program, after-school program, and day camp that was running through the summer. There would be kids who would come in with no food in their bellies, there would be kids who would say things that no child should know how to say, and they would do things that I can only assume they learned from someone else. And I loved those children. My heart burst for them. They taught me how to find joy in such little things, they taught me how important it is to discipline a child with love, how much a child needs to, loves to, desires to be told that they have a purpose in this life and that they are so precious and valuable, for no other reason than that they are who they are.
And now I'm studying for my Masters. I've come across people who angrily said that Tim Horton's should know better than to not serve creamy soup as a vegetarian option. I came across people who complained that there are too many leather, comfy swivel chairs in a room - that is rather spacious anyways. This isn't to say that I don't do the same thing too - I've complained in my own time about stupid little things that I shouldn't complain about. That I don't deserve to complain about.
But here's the thing: when you have everything in the world, then you complain about every little thing when it's not there. We think we are somehow "entitled" to things. And it's disgusting. It's plain disgusting. All I can do is laugh at how very ignorant we are to the pain, suffering, and struggles of the people living all around us.
The only thing that "entitles" me to anything at all is the fact that I have money in my bank account, I have a nice diploma on my wall, and I have a family that raised me in a beautiful neighbourhood in the suburbs and afforded me all the necessities and non-necessities I could ask for. Others are not so fortunate to have all of that. They will live their lives without even being able to afford Tim Horton's or a Master's program. They will struggle to feed themselves day-to-day, they will struggle to clothe themselves. And they will - if you meet them - rarely complain. They know that it's wrong, they know that they need what they need, but there's a matter-of-factness to it.
I am disgusting for believing that anything I have is anything but a privilege. I only hope that I can use it to serve others, to serve the people that God loves in the same unfathomable way He's loved me. Help me Lord to do so.
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