Glittering City Lights, and All the Life Below

First off, yes, I know it's a crummy photo.  It's the best I could get out of an airplane window, with the weird glare and all.  But the point of this edition of my random ramblings isn't about the photo.  That's just an introduction.  Bear with me.

I love flying at night, or just flying in general.  I haven't been on a plane for a while, but this last weekend, on the way to California (an experience that I hope to soon write about), I got plenty of time on a plane.  Including one flight from Atlanta to Charlotte, just about forty minutes in length, meaning that it didn't fly too high in the clouds, and I could see all the beautiful lights beneath us.

And, of course, being me, I had some deep profound thought while flying above the city.  That, or I was just really bored and wanted something to keep my mind busy.  Probably the second.

Anyway.  The thing that caught my attention was looking down at the highways, and all seeing all of the cars driving around.  I know this may sound lame, but I got all caught up in following those little dots on the ground around, seeing where they were going, and how small they seemed to me.  There were millions of lives beneath me, all moving in harmony (to some extent, of course.)

It made me stop to think about how complex our world really is.  Not only are there several billion completely different lives all going on at exactly the same time, but we have all these different systems and places for everyone.  There are lawyers and doctors and businessmen and waiters and clerks and managers and performers and teachers and cab drivers and literally everything you could imagine.  Right beneath me.  And they all exist together, working together to fill all the roles in a system.

For some reason, that blew my mind.  Not that humans could work together towards a purpose (although that is surprising at times), but just how vast and harmonious our world is.  All those little glittering dots on the ground have a purpose.  God designed each person to have a purpose.  And it's amazing when you can look down from the sky and see everyone coexist together.

Our world isn't perfect, but it's pretty freaking cool.

Why I'm Roughly 90% Done With Texting

I was watching Night at the Museum 2 with the kids at work today, and one part in particular really stuck out to me.

The former nightguard is talking to Teddy Roosevelt, and his phone buzzes.  Instead of waiting for the conversation to end, he pulls out his phone and replies, interrupting Teddy mid-sentence.  But, when he looks up from his phone, he realizes his lost his opportunity.

I've seen this movie a dozen times, but that never hit me like this before.  I always just took it as the movie's way of implying that he works too much and his job is too important.  And perhaps, that's the point the movie was trying to make.  After all, it came out in 2009, before cell phone addiction was wildly prevalent.

None of that mattered to me today, though.  the first thought that hit me tonight was "Huh, I wonder how many times I've done that to people before."

The answer kind of made me sad.  It's funny, how texting puts phone interaction over human interaction.

I'm not judging people who text, at all.  I am one of those people.  I spend likely over an hour a day typing messages back and forth.  And here's my secret.  The deep, dark secret I don't usually share with the world.

I actually hate texting. *Cue large dramatic gasp.*

Honestly, though.  It feels like an obligating most of the time.  Like, if you text me, I'm obligated to reply, even when I don't have time to talk or just don't feel like talking.  And, more so, everything gets misinterpreted the wrong way over text.  I've almost destroyed several relationships because of the way things sounded over text.  Because I couldn't hear their voice or see their face.  I got mad over words on a screen - words they might never have said out loud.  But it doesn't matter.  Because I've let those words on a screen control my life.

Now.  There are many merits to texting.  First off, it's fast and simple.  It's an easy way to convey information and get a quick answer.  And, you can do it around people without the whole world overhearing a conversation.  It's very convenient.  And I don't have any issues with using it, for convenience sake, or to have a quick conversation, or when something is going on but you can't visit or call up a person.  Obviously, sometimes it's just easier to text.  It's a great thing, and a great blessing we have. (Thus, why I said in the title that I'm 90% done with texting.  I'm definitely not completely done with it.)

My problem is when texting steps outside its role of fast, easy communication, and starts to replace normal conversation altogether.  I don't think it was ever meant to replace a face-to-face (or even over the phone) conversation.  When messages on a screen, without expression or tone, become more important than real interactions, there's a problem.

I'm not calling anyone out.  If anything, I'm calling myself out.

I love the random little texts I'll get from my boyfriend throughout the day, the little updates about class and going-ons at college.  But not every text has to be turned into a full conversation.  I don't have to be texting him right as everything happens.  Instead, it's healthier for us to call each other frequently, and just talk about how things are going - rather than try to explain it all over text.

I came to the realization this evening that things were the way they should be, texting-wise, over the summer.  Let me rewind.  I often consider last summer to be the best time of my life.  I woke up at 6:30, would text my boyfriend for ten minutes to wake myself up, and then went for a run.  Then, I headed to work for eight hours, where I would have no attachment to my phone (except maybe to take pictures.)  After work, I went home and either went to hang out with friends, spent time with my family, read a book, or called my boyfriend to talk about how our days were.

Notice what's missing?  The incessant texting.  Obviously, I still texted.  A lot, even.  But it didn't replace real communication.  Not in the slightest.

I want the summer back (for a number of reasons.  It really was the best.) and, in order to do that, I'm going to have to fight to get real communication back.  Besides, I work four days a week, run, tutor, participate in a play, and lead at church.  On top of taking several difficult classes.  I don't have time to be clicking away on my phone.

How do you change? Simple.  You just do it.  It doesn't happen overnight.  But it will happen, if you fight for it.  So, I'm going to set my phone aside and focus on living life.  I'm going to invest in real communication, and text only when necessary.

I'm going to stop missing those opportunities and conversations that float around.  I'm going to set down my phone and see how my life is changed.  I challenge you to do the same.

Fear and Love - a short scene from my novel

Sometimes, a scene from my book tells more than a post filled with my ramblings.  This story is my heart.


--


He stares straight forward, towards the school, towards the small glittering lights in the distance. “Have you ever wondered what it’s like, though?”

I snap out of my slight trace. “What’s that?”

“Being in love. Haven’t you ever wondered what it’s like, not having to be alone?”

I hesitate, because I guess I'm really not sure about what to say. “I try not to think about it too much,” I admit. “You know. Part of being self-sufficient and all that.”

“So you’ve never dreamed of what it’s like. You’ve never imagined how it feels to be loved and know that someone has you.”

“I guess, if I'm being completely honest, the idea of falling in love scares me.” I brush a strand of hair behind my ear and glance over at him. “I don’t want to love anyone. It would make my life easier if it was just me. I could achieve anything, and nothing would hold me back. You know me. I don’t mind being alone.”

Kai takes a long breath as he looks over at me. “Then why are you crying?”

I bring my fingers to the corner of my eye and realize that a few tears have formed. Embarrassed, I use the sleeve of my hoodie to dab them away. “I'm not sad about anything.”

“Sure you are. We’re all only human, Shailyne, even you. We want to be held, to be loved. You’re no different than the rest.”

“But I have to be,” I say slowly. “I have to be different. It’s who I'm called to be.”

“I don’t disagree with that. You are different. I've told you that before. But you don’t have to be different like this. You don’t have to shut yourself away just because you’re scared to love.”

I'm silent for a long time, and he allows me to enjoy the quiet. I stare out across the field, down the hill, and all the way back to the residence halls. Across this campus that I've been a part of for the last six years, and never once have I had a friend here. I have been alone, and until now, I guess I've been comfortable with that.

“I'm not afraid to love, Kai.”

“Then why do you push me away?”

I look over at him, a little startled that he would ask me something that bold, and then back across the field. “I’m not pushing you away.”

“Then what, then? Why don’t you let me in?”

I sigh, frustrated, as usual, at how persistently he asks questions. “I don’t know. Do I have to have answers to everything?”

“No. Can I tell you what I think?”

I debate replying with some sort of sarcastic reply about how he always tells me what he’s thinking, then, on a whim, decided to hold my tongue. Maybe the setting sun and gentle, cold wind has put me in a more serious mood. Or maybe I actually want to hear what he has to say.

So, for once, I don’t say anything. I just nod.

“I think you don’t want to be vulnerable to anyone. You think you can do life alone, and Shailyne, that’s the biggest lie ever told to humanity.”

I laugh and roll my eyes. “What do you know about the truth of humanity?”

He’s quiet for a little while. I wonder if I hurt his feelings, but then again, it’s Kai. He’s put up with me for several months now. He’s learned not to take my cynicism too personally.

“I may not be school smart like you, but that’s not the only kind of smart. I like to think about the world. Why we’re here. What our purpose is. What truth is. Not the sort of thing they teach you in school. It’s a different kind of intelligence, but I happen to think that it’s equal to what you’re taught as truth in class.” He pauses for a minute, his bright eyes focused on the horizon, where the sun is quickly sinking. “I don’t know everything, but I understand humanity, and I think I get truth. And you’re lying to yourself if you think you can go through life alone. We were made to need other people.”

I shrug, but he doesn’t give up.

“Someday, you’ll see. Someday, you’ll love.”

I stare at his face, watching for any trace of emotion, but he keeps his expression steady. “Have you ever loved, Kai?”

“Sarah,” he said softly. “But I wouldn’t take back my love for her, even as much as it hurt to lose her. Loving is what makes us human. The pain is not a consequence or punishment for loving, it’s a side effect. But it’s one I'll gladly take any day.”

I let his words sink in, instead of rushing to tear them down. I guess that’s a sign that I’m changing? Maybe he’s having a little bit of an impact on me, as much as I don’t want him to.

I find I have nothing to say to that, and I think Kai understands. He doesn’t say anything more to me. Instead, he slides a little to his right, a little closer to me. I don’t completely mind. We sit there for a few minutes, quietly, together. Then, as the exhaustion from another long, hard day begins to drag me down, I rest my head on his shoulder, and together, we watch the dark overtake the evening sky.

New Year? New You!

Hi, I'm Abigail.  Seventeen.  Christian.  Terribly flawed human.

Okay, that's probably not the best way to begin.  I could tell a rough percentage of how "normal" I am, but that wouldn't be comforting either.  That part's coming later.

So, why are you here?

No, bad question.  Philosophers have been debating that since the dawn of time.  They don't need encouragement to continue the ruthless, endless debate, rather than believe that there's a God in the sky who loves us all dearly.

But that's not my point.  I've barely started this post and I'm already straying.  (I'm sorry, philosophers.  I know you might be out of a job if you admit that God exists, but it would be nice to see one of you discover the true meaning of life every once in a while.) Anyways. Back to my point, which was asking what IS the point of my mind-numbing ramblings? (I apologize.  I really do.)

Regardless of how ridiculous and loquacious this post may be, my point is that I'm ready for a new beginning. 2014 has been a year of learning who I am and what I'm made of.  And failing. A lot.  And making mistakes.  A lot. (Aka, why in my introduction, I described myself as a "terribly flawed human.")

But hey!  We're all terribly flawed!  There's no person on earth who's perfect.  There's the comforting part.

Okay.  So, we're all flawed.  Where do we go from here?

*Cue cheesy banner with the post title in big, colorful letters and a cutesy font*

"New Year, New You."  I find the phrase utterly ridiculous in one sense.  Because, how I interpret this statement at a first glance is that new year "makes" you new.

Wrong.  Wrong.  WRONG.

Starting a new calendar will never "make" you new.  However, it gives you a sense of freshness and, well, newness, and you're at a good place to succeed in growth.

You have the tools.  Are you going to pick them up and use them?

Say you want to fix up a car.  Your dad bought you every wonderful tool you can imagine.  But you never use them.  You make excuses. "I'm tired" or "I'm busy" or even, simply, "I don't want to."  So, the car remains broken.  Tools don't fix the car.  Your hard work does.

It's the same thing with a new year.  Here are your tools.  Here's your chance to start fresh.  Are you going to pick up the tools?  Or will they continue to gather dust, as they do every other year?  Do you want this year to be different?

This year will be different only if you decide it will be.  So, put down the distraction, put down the addiction, and pick up the tools.  Brush off the dust.  Bring about the "new you" yourself, and stop waiting for a day on a calendar to do it for you.

Are you picking up your tools?  I'm picking up mine.  You've been given a chance.  Make it a good year.  Chase relentlessly after the change you want.

Who knows, maybe God will even do something cool along the way.