December 11, 2007

I recently came across an old journal that my Boston roommate, Mahri gave me for my 21st birthday. The first entry I wrote (6 months later) was pretty heavy. Reading it now, I realize that I sometimes I feel like I'm in the same place. As the entry continues, I know that I've grown so much and that I'm still growing. It's a little melodramatic ... but I think the sentiments are extremely relevant to my life now. Rather than over explain it, I'll just get to it:

I just looked at myself in the mirror for the first time. I resisted for a while - but I looked. I searched my own face. Do I see the face of God or someone who I utterly lost?

"What's going on inside there?"

I am ... a murderer, a lover, a pornographer, a sinner, a man, a man, a wanderer, an explorer, a peace-keeper, a musician, a singer, a waiter, a butler, a mask-maker, a rock, a foundation, a house, a shack, a monster, a pest, a conqueror, a soldier, a believer, a friend, a lover, a child, a boy, I am strong.

In the search for what is, was, what could be and what will never be - I am lost. For the past few months - most notably, since summer - I have felt like I was on the brink of a realization... of coming to peace with myself. I've never felt so grounded in the truth of myself. Surprise! That didn't last (in its original form anyway). No kidding. In retrospect, this semester has pushed me to my limits - how far could I take myself? Overextended, overanxious, overambitious, overjoyed:

I am everything and nothing
I am not night or day
I am not whole or in pieces
I have a foundation
The more I give up control, the more I'm given!
The harder I grasp, the more things slip through my fingers

I will drive away from Boston in a week and a day and feel accomplished. At least I hope so. I hope I find relief and release and - something. The sermon at church this week was about faith and split into three parts: expectation, disillusionment, hope.

As Christians (and HUMANS) we wake up and hope for the unexpected to remove this sense of disillusion. As one of the three teachers that day put it: "We close our eyes at night hoping to wake up and something will have changed. That this nightmare will be over." When she said this, I nearly lost it. Moments before, I thought to myself: "I wish I wasn't who I was now. I want to be Mark from three years ago, before school." I wish and hope God will miraculously change me. That's unrealistic. If I want to change, I need to actively seek it and want it, and I can't wish for no pain or confusion and inner peace- all of this is earned. I know - I'm earning this now.

I'm earning this new identity. God is apart of my identity, but to what capacity? This semester, I have actively sought out church more and returned more to that sense of weekly renewal and forcing myself to be helpless and not in control. Try it. Next time I read this - NO MATTER WHAT you are struggling to control - I dare you to let go and put it in God's hands. No matter what.

So I read this, and I thought to myself, "Wow, how relevant!" (Given, I don't feel like a shell of a human, or nearly as lost as I was then) For all intensive purposes, I'm pretty damn proud of how I was able to assemble my life here. Still, a lot of the lessons I was frantically trying to pen at the time still ring true! I'm not going to wake up one day and have things fall into place. I can't try to control every aspect of my life. I am everything on that list ... probably more.

I think the long and the short of this lesson is simple: Get out of my head and away from the pen and paper, stop talking ... and just do. Ride the wave and relax. Stay proactive and trust that things will work out as they should.

OK, it's been getting too real lately. So for shits: here's a picture of my parents' dog, Maximus.

Night all.