[This is it I guess]

       I am honestly far too excited or curious really to keep one train of thought long enough to write it down. But the compiled brilliance from this year's learning and determined thinking persists. (Naturally being mostly Invisible Man and Woolf)

• “What and how much had I lost by trying to do only what was expected of me instead of what I myself had wished to do?” 

• “I was pulled this way and that for longer than I can remember. And my problem was that I always tried to go in everyone's way but my own. I have also been called one thing and then another while no one really wished to hear what I called myself. So after years of trying to adopt the opinions of others I finally rebelled. I am an invisible man.”

•   “Perhaps to lose a sense of where you are implies the danger of losing a sense of who you are.” 

•  “Power doesn't have to show off. Power is confident, self-assuring, self-starting and self-stopping, self-warming and self-justifying. When you have it, you know it.”

•  “Literature is strewn with the wreckage of those who have minded beyond reason the opinion of others.

• “It is strange how a scrap of poetry works in the mind and makes the legs move in time to it along the road.” 

•   “There is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.” 

        I seriously wish that I had some kind of coherent revelation or polished thought to impart into a discussion about these quotes, but I don't. Not now, at least. They're right. In this place of inevitable pondering and "reflection," if you must, I find time and time again how close I am to Invisible Man and how far from Virginia. With that my desire to be more sync with Woolf and less with Invisible Man deepens.
       But that is it then. The adventure will come with seeing the character that next year proves. If you ask me, we're all just Invisible Men trying to be anything more, barely able to acknowledge the exist of a freed mind.  

What if Jesus was human?

      This isn't really a monthly blog. Just something to say or write rather. Today is Friday and in theory Jesus died today, at least according to translation. He was tortured and beaten and ridiculed and nailed down on this very day. All for the sake of mankind? In theory. I think its something worth dwelling on, thinking on, grasping at; well in actuality it is something too worthy and too pure, something we should never be allowed to give any thought to or embrace an idea about---but we are and we can.

"Live as if someone died for you because they did."
 
   Its beyond any awe that can be experienced. What if someone was beaten for you, tortured for you, killed for you, and died for you? And all this happened when they had the given ability, the whole time, to save themselves at any point and when they were consumed with thoughts of you with every blow. I think its painfully inconceivable. When we tend to think of any scenario like this it is manifested of somebody, somewhere, at sometime; someone completely made up and intangible, never capturing any real substance. Since Jesus is so easily always some mystical, far-off, cut-out character lets forget Him for a moment. What if a human being was beaten for you, tortured for you, killed for you, and died for you? Just some other person. What if a human being came to stay with you with such joy and excitement; knowing they were walking into their own death that waited for them a few days later? The same running veins and pumping hearts that you walk by ever day, sit next to, take care of, day dream about, love so much, and live side by side with. What if you watched your best friend hanging dead; yes, your best friend, your child, your mother, your teacher, your student. And what if after they died they never missed a moment of your life; they marveled at your every word and thought because the love they had to die for you was still flowing, still evident, and still as alive as ever. ---You give someone the best gift you could ever imagine, its engrossed with every part of you and all you have to give. Then you wait in great expectation for their reaction, and you unwillingly assume, their gratitude, but that can never be assumed.--- No human being will ever be that or do that, even if they wanted to. But why do I so quickly forget Jesus' humanity? Did his blood not drip from his face the same way mine would? Did around his eyes not puff up when he cried the same way mine does? Did his skin not break and cut and scab over the same way mine does? Did he not have his own bitter sweet memories and screams running through his head like I would? And did he not so desperately want all the pain and torture to stop as soon as it all started just like we would?
     This is the very definition of love; to love because of how He loves. When did Jesus become inhuman? He is a name to laugh at, an overdone over-dramatic story told, a mechanism used to restrict and control us. The problem is that Jesus is so easily always some mystical, far-off, cut-out character that we forget Him for a moment; a moment that becomes every other moment. But what if, today, Jesus was a heartbroken bleeding man, dying on a cross just gently whispering your name hoping to get your attention for just a moment; a moment that would become any other moment.

Jesus is not
rules to live by
some name they made up
the creator of overly judgmental "christians"
the guidelines of man-made religion
a bunch of cliche responses
a small narrow way of thinking
waiting until marriage, saying no to drugs, and being polite
only friends with the "good" ones
everything portrayed through the church

Jesus was unattractive and moving from house to house. He was hardworking and heavy burdened. He was tempted in every way and still perfect. He was simple; teaching to forgive, accept, and love enemies. He was honest; calling people fools when they acted like it. He was intelligent; thinking and speaking in ways people had never heard before. He was funny; confusing authority with jokes and wit. He was ultimate kindness; laying down His own life for us and still waiting for us to realize it. He is worlds beyond our comprehension; fully human and fully God. Only if we would only look at our hearts long enough to see His name already written there.

Thank you.

Mrs. Burnett,

In writing my monthly blog tonight I am compelled to thank you. Granted, not because in any way I have to but because, simply, I so very much want to. But still, in many ways, I do have to because you deserve all the appreciation I, and anyone else, can give you. Now, I usually strive to make things short, to the point, and hopefully poetic due to the fear of simply saying too much. But then the question haunts me, can someone actually ever say too much in the heart of appreciation? I'm going to go with a no. Encouragement is heavier than discouragement. So I just wanted to thank you. Forgive me ahead of time that this is unfortunately electronic and not words from mouth, but I want you to be able to save whichever words you may desire, to remember them. And plainly, my monthly blog is just some place I knew you'd have to read this. If I were a tragic hero, my beautifully tragic flaw would be a heavy heart weighed down with burdens that are not my own to carry. Well, you know, aside from the selfishness, doubt, pride, and everything else. But either way, talking with you is a very simple way that some of that heaviness can be lightened, in the most innocent way. Your gentle kindness goes farther than you may know. And in so many ways I would be absolutely proud to be anything resembling a woman like you when I'm actually out in this world, you know, living. You work hard and it doesn't go unnoticed or unappreciated.

Thank you for teaching me, appreciating my thoughts, and maturing them through yours.
Thank you for your understanding and sincerity.
Thank you for your light heart and passion.
Thank you for sharing your wise mind and refreshing humor with us.
Thank you for being so humble that you learn from us while we learn from you.
Thank you for challenging me to think more and more, and,
Thank you for allowing us to think with you in the most enjoyable way.
Thank you for listening and validating the ideas I am pressed with.
Thank you for being the kind of teacher that we love, thoroughly admire, trust, and without effort, look up to.

You change, shape, and encourage our minds. And for that, Thank you.

It was through my reading and reflection of A Room of One's Own that I was once again reminded of my deep appreciation for Mrs. Burnett. Through Woolf's engaging and intriguing thought process she thinks on the words and writing of great poets, authors, and teachers. She references specific men like Charles Lamb, a great essayist, William Thackeray, best known for his satirical works, and Alfred Tennyson, a famous British poet. This brings me to some questions we discussed in class just earlier today:

How much effect does discouragement have on the mind of the artist?
How much weight would you put on encouragement?

I think with encouragement comes validation, and validating someone is one of the most powerful things anyone can do for anyone else. And in the same tone, encouragement comes in many different forms. One example could be reflecting on original minds that dared to think and create in the same way you are trying to do right now. Through that reflection, your struggles are validated and your hope is fed through their success. This thought process effortlessly lead me to day dream about what original minds I will call upon to fuel my encouragement and creativity in days to come. I can confidently say Virginia Woolf will certainly be one of those minds, and so will Mrs. Burnett.

Encouragement is heavier than discouragement. My humblest hope is that maybe in some moment, at some time, your mind may dwell on these words and create.

Solitude, please.

There is Norah from a Doll's House and there is Edna from the Awakening. People argue that they were both fighting for freedom, for identity, just for anything that wasn't being so oppressed by society. They both made two very different decisions when it came to staying or leaving, starting or ending. Norah left and Edna died. I was so bothered by both endings for reasons I didn't understand. Through wrestling with those thoughts and quotes talked about in class, I realized that it seemed as if both women lacked ever experiencing solitude.

We discussed two quotes in class,

"At long last you may no longer distinguish what binds you from what is you." - M.T. Anderson

"No human should go through life without once experiencing healthy, even bored solitude in the wilderness, finding himself depending solely on himself and thereby learning his true and hidden strength." - R.W. Emerson

I think these men were seriously on to something with these words. How were either one of these women ever suppose to know anything about "who they are" or freedom or identity without solitude. I'm starting to learn how no one can embrace one without the other. It is a pretty well none fact, at least I think, that when we as people are always around other people our habits, attitude, or stance tends to sway or conform to the people around us. This happens in the most innocent way between friends that start to say the same words or laugh at the same things. Still, it can occur in much deeper ways through someone forgetting what they even think until someone else voices their opinion first because sometimes we forget what our voice wants to say when we have for so long never let it be told. Therefore, in the mist of people no one can ever see "what binds them from what they are." It is next to impossible to discern between the two when we're in a sea of opinions and storm of voices.

For anyone to know who they are from what binds them they need solitude. I hope and like to think that Norah left her family and comfort in search for solitude, that she was going to allow herself to simply be until herself is organically revealed because there is nothing else that can be revealed when there is only you. So originally I was so uneasy with the ending of A Doll's House because it just seemed like Norah was leaving, but then I realized her leaving was actually her starting. Once Bradley Cooper said, "If you don't know who you are then you'll never know what to do." Norah was at the start of solitude, therefore the start of her and knowing what to do. But then Edna left and ended. I realized the difference between the two leavings was really just the opportunity for solitude.

As humans we need solitude to ever hope to experience any kind of freedom, identity, or worth.

Cultural Relativism

       "Therefore, there is no objective 'truth' in morality. Right and wrong are only matters of opinion, and opinions vary from culture to culture." I can agree that this statement can be true. Right and wrong is usually an opinion. It's only a problem when it is projected on to the absolute world. Yes, people saying what is right and wrong is an opinion, but that doesn't mean that there is not a concrete truth. Depite what some opinions are. "There is no 'universal truth' in ethics---that is, there are no moral truths that hold for all peoples at all times."  Therefore, this is probably my biggest beef with Cultural Relativism; the idea that there is no concrete reality of truth, it just bends and forms depending on the current society it is within. This, consequently, reminds me of the Invisible Man. Ralph Ellison writes, 

"When one is invisible he finds such problems as good and evil, honesty and dishonesty, of such shifting shapes that he confuses one with the other, depending upon who happens to be looking through him at the time."

Cultural Relativism suggests that we, as a people, are all just invisible men or all just invisible societies conformed to the current circumstance. I understand that societies possess morals that can very much so be independent to the united mind of their culture. But regardless of opinion, I think we all have a absolute truth to answer to, that transcends all cultures.

       

       This brings me to another misunderstanding with Cultural Relativism. "The society's values are only one of them." Now, I am aware that I am not use this statement in the way it was intended, but it is a prime way to describe what I mean. A society's standards are made of the people, it them that makes it the standard anyway. You can only be stuck within Cultural Relativism if someone is stepping out of the box to reach the society's already accepted standards. The only problem I have with this theory is progress, which has been accepted as a flaw in the theory. There are examples like the 1%, the 70,000 young adults at Passion 2013, and Ellen Degeneres. 

        

       As a world, I think every society is only ever striving for progress and achievement. So if that can't be a part of Cultural Relativism, then that bids the question; why are we doing anything we do? This past I was at a conference in Georgia called Passion 2013. The 70,000 college-student aged adults there  were raising there voices against the 27 million slaves that still exist around the world. In our society iPhones are accepted some would even say "necessary."But slavery isn't acceptable at all. Yet slaves are used in metal industries and in the very construction of that electronic. So which standard does a person choose to live up to? Progress is only reached through busting past old standards and making new ones. We can fight against slavery as a society and reject products that are the definition of hypocrisy. And there is no doubt, that we would unite to make a new coming-age phone that is untainted and can be a whole new kind of standard. 

       

       Culture Relativism has many hang ups. But it is making me think of one question the most above all the rest. You see, I suppose I just don't understand being a reformer to reach a current society standard that is already established. I mean, if your society isn't abiding by one of their values then is it really a moral standard in your society in the first place? 

Sick of Thinking

       

       One of my favorite quotes is by Charles Caleb Colton, "Those who finish by making all others think with them, have usually been those who began by daring to think with themselves."  Thinking is the opportunity to open a door to rich power, it is the ability to transcend past the boundaries of speech and action. With that in mind, it needs to be known that AP English is my favorite and most hated class for this very reason. Never before have I been provoked to think so intensely in a high school class. Needless to say, I can get sick of it. Whether I want to or not my mind is constantly intrigued and can't help but lift up the heaviest questions of mankind and feel the weight of them on my shoulders until my conscious can explore enough possibilities to be satisfied with my new found ideas.

       Today in class we began discussing the concept of Existentialism. The idea that life has no meaning but we can create our own worth. Therefore, we confronted questions like; what is truth, what are we waiting for, and where are we heading. Existentialism, seems to, challenge every natural answer I had to give to these questions, being a follower of Christ. And that wasn't even the problem so much, the conflict really aroused in me when my teacher mentioned knowing some people who were "completely content not understand the unkown." You mean some people are not back-breakingly seeking a solid answer? This idea was strangely appealing to my weary mind. 

       We ended class by beginning the novel, Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. Which only strengthened my unavoidable new-found "I don't know" idea. The two men in the novel, Vladimir and Estragon, went on to talk about the Gospels and Jesus dying with two thieves next to him. In the most innocent way, they discussed the puzzlement of different witnesses telling the story differently. The conversation dwindles with this:

VLADIMIR:

But one of the four says that one of the two was saved.

ESTRAGON:

Well? They don't agree and that's all there is to it.

VLADIMIR:

But all four were there. And only one speaks of a thief being saved. Why believe him rather than the others?

ESTRAGON:

Who believes him?

VLADIMIR:

Everybody. It's the only version they know.

    
       They have a valid argument that is so easily expanded into daily life's many circumstances. But nonetheless, if someone asked me why I believed that one thief was saved, what would I say? Because the Bible says so? Which could easily be debated to be "Because it's the only version I know?" My confidence in the Truth hasn't been swayed at all, it's just that the holes in the story have become more evident. Will I ever know the actuality of those holes? So the question is, to be content with "I don't know" as a response and good-enough reason or not?

       I have no answer or conclusion to sum this all up, I have only these thoughts to think about. The idea that simply not knowing something is okay.  Is it possible that sometimes "I don't know" is all we're suppose to know? I don't know. But it seems worth a shot, to be content enough with the unknown, to just say I don't know a little more than I did before.

 

Fate: you can call it what you want

       I've been thinking over this idea of "fate." And in reality, humanity gives many different names to something that is generally one concept. For example; destiny, purpose, calling, or fate. Any of those options will do. 

       We were discussing this very concept in class and I was inclined to think about it further when my pastor brought it up at church. He said something along the lines of, "If you are worried about who is going to win the presidential election, don't. God already destined it." And my only problem with this statement is that it can imply that nobody needs to vote. One of the biggest discussions we had about the subject was when someone said how they didn't understand how anyone could believe in, both, fate and freewill. The statement my pastor made can be taken as if freewill isn't necessary, but in reality, I think that it is because of freewill that fate can happen. If no one voted then we could say that no one would be president (atleast we could say it wouldn't still be a democracy, but that's a whole other story.) I think that God knows our thoughts, therefore surely knows the choices we will make. And because of this, there is this fate or destiny or whatever, that is known by Him just not by us. So the next president of the united States is already known, just not by us. And its our exact freewill and vote that makes it happen.

       Philosopher, Friedrich Schiller, once said, "Fate hath no voice but the heart's impulse." He was speaking about the disbelief in fate, but despite that, I actually agree with him in a way. It is our heart's desires that direct our choices and it is those very choices that He knows and inevitably makes up the intricate puzzle of fate. We don't know where our fate starts or ends, so how could it ever sway our freewill? It seems as if the only thing that arrives us at our fate, without fail, is following the deepest impulses of our hearts.