This Moment

“Tomorrow has its own worries, wrapped up in its own time. For that, this moment is what you make of it.” – Yecheilyah

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In the world wind of routine and 24 hour clocks, we forget about the power we have to control this very moment. We spend 95% of our lives worrying about what the next day, the next week, or the next year will produce. In fact, we spend so much time thinking about the future that our present is cloaked with uncertainty, and we give birth to idleness. Idleness in turn leads to a loss of direction and diminishes our satisfaction for life itself. For some, it even leads to depression, for he or she has lost track of the vision. The performance of right now and the endless possibilities utterly escape us as we lay the blueprint for the next day. Always remember that we always have the power to choose and nothing is really a distraction (it is only a distraction if you’re not paying attention). Even when there are circumstances that appear so out of our control, such as emotions, there is still a choice. If I’m sad today it is because I choose to be sad. If I’m angry today it is because I choose to be angry. If my reaction to disrespect is a loss of self-control I have chosen to lose control. As such there is no one to blame for missing the opportunities each day holds because we are the ones who decide to make the decisions that lead to the outcome of every single moment. The funny thing is that this can also help with blogging. I know there are a lot of you participating in National Blog Posts and Novel Writing Months and whatnot, and you’re scratching the surface of your brains for something to write to complete the days post. But just relax, and earnestly think about what you have in this moment, and it’ll be a lot easier than just trying to put something out there. You will instead put something out that not only fulfills the challenge, but also something that will be of substance to the reader.

While planning ahead has its blessings, let us make sure that we’re also nourishing this very moment; for tomorrow has its own worries, wrapped up in its own time. And for that, this moment is what you make of it.

Solitude

Probably one of the best descriptions of depression I ever read. Had to share:

 
“She felt so old, so worn out, so far away from the best moments of her life that she even yearned for those that she remembered as the worst… Her heart of compressed ash, which had resisted the most telling blows of daily reality without strain, fell apart with the first waves of nostalgia. The need to feel sad was becoming a vice as the years eroded her. She became human in her solitude.”

 
— One Hundred Years of Solitude (Cien años de soledad, 1967) Gabriel García Márquez

Raking Leaves

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The trees are not ashamed of their nakedness. They have stepped out of their summer wear, short sleeved leaves that now lay idle upon the course concrete. Some have managed to fall upon the now stiff soil in hopes the dirt may integrate them back into the earth and they be born again by way of decomposition. But the winds will not give them rest, will not honor the time it takes for them to eventually disintegrate but will instead blow its breath against the now crackling foliage into my front yard. I have nothing against the leaves, but they should know that their friends have been here twice this week already and I am not apt to redeem them again. First of all, winter has showed up again on my Louisiana doorstep unannounced. It carries on the shoulders of the skies only black and whites and gray; a dull reminder that it is time for me to hibernate under the covers. I have bills to pay sure, but my boss doesn’t know that I have an uninvited guest this morning and will not be able to report to work. This is not about me though; this is about them…those dreadful leaves. I’m convinced they know what they’re doing. Like me, they wish only to escape the cold. They’ve spent enough time hanging out against the backdrop of tree bark long enough to know that darker colors are absorbers of light and thereby become better radiators of heat. For this reason they anxiously wait for me to assemble them into those big black garbage bags. Never mind that my face might fall off; that the frigid air will smack me across the head with its hand pulling my face along with it. And how would that look to the neighbors? A faceless woman fighting leaves on the front yard. They care nothing about this though, selfish leaves. They actually depend on my need to see color again. To do away with the browns and the grays and the blacks for just one more chance to see the sun play hide and seek upon the vibrant green of freshly cut grass—undisturbed by the ugly brown leaves sleeping in the back yard.

But today this will just have to suffice. I don’t feel like having to explain to my neighbors why I have no face. I am not yet ready to face the beat down I have coming to me for the chance to scrape up things that will just be here again 20 minutes after I am done. So now dear leaves run along now. Find someone else to pick on your bully’s. I am not your salvation today.

The Illuminati Obssessed Youth

Since every kid I seem to run into now days seems to be infatuated with the Illuminati, let me just say this:

Dear Young People,

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The Illuminati is not a group of rich white men sitting in a dimly lit room around a table smoking Cigars. These are servants of the Illuminati (called The Order of the Illuminati) but they are not the real Illuminati. The real Illuminati are actually a group of Fallen Angels called Watchers who were to watch over mankind but instead came down to marry and have sex with human women. As a result, these produced Giants on the Earth called Nephillim (meaning from Heaven to Earth they came, the Benni Ha Elohim, or Sons of the Gods) and resulted in the great flood (Gen. 5-6). The “All Seeing Eye” is the Symbol for The Watchers, that’s why it’s an eye because it symbolizes their watch over mankind. There are lots of movies many of you enjoy that tell their story, such as many of your Super Hero movies, Hercules, Thor, Superman, X-Men, etc. Illuminati is for Illumination and is to symbolize the supposed light that Lucifer is giving to those who serve him (since he used to be the light bearer and all). Light is symbolic of truth and knowledge but this knowledge Satan is giving to the Order of the Illuminati (the human servants) through The Watcher angels under him is not a good knowledge, and his truth is deception: it’s a lie that is made to look like the truth.

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If you wanna know what’s going on get off of YouTube and pick up a bible. In Gen. Chapter 3 is the foundation to every secret society / mystery school to ever exist. (Example: The Symbol for Skull & Bones is a pair of cross bones over the numbers: 3:22, it is to represent Death and Genesis 3:22, man has become a God. They worship Satan outright because they say that Satan gave man Godhood). So, start there, but don’t walk around reppin the Illuminati, they are not your friends, and it has never been cool to worship the devil.

Burdens

burdenI don’t understand why some of you burden yourselves. Life is hard enough that we don’t have to add unnecessary baggage. Like, why do I have to buy the organic egg vs. the regular egg? The organic salad vs. the regular salad? And what’s wrong with tap water? 100 yrs ago we couldn’t have dreamed of buying water and yet here we are. I bet you they ain’t tripping over water in Africa though, or in some third world country where they drink water you wouldn’t even bathe in. Goldberg gonna be selling you air next though, then there’s gonna be a debate about which air tank is the healthiest. There is just so much more important things in the world to worry about than what we choose to carry. Sometimes it’s not the load that breaks us down, it’s both how we choose to carry the load and the load we choose to carry.

The Ultimate Test

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“For one human being to love another is perhaps the most difficult task of all, the epitome, the ultimate test. It is that striving for which all other striving is merely preparation.” – Rainer Maria Rilke

Interesting quote. When you boil everything down to its genuine purpose, it all seems to come back to love. Mankind prepares itself to understand what love is and how to exhibit that love. I think perhaps imperfection is not being without mistakes, but perhaps, being without love.

 
What if the Ultimate test, the promised land of sacrifice and endurance, is the preparation of ourselves to meet love in its purest form, where in comparison to such esteem that even the sun is but artificial light? Would not our struggles be worth it? The beauty of pure love, it is too much to fathom, “that striving for which all other striving is merely preparation.”