the imaginary invalid.

I have to give a disclaimer for the following blog. I may go far to deep into the meaning the play. The imaginary invalid was a very good production. It was full of creativity, talented actors and over-the-top-slap-stick-humor. This was probably the best southeastern production I've seen since attending southeaster. The acting was, for the most part, very well done. The main character is told by his doctor that he requires a plethora of medications and injections. As the story progresses we find that many of his issues are all mental and created by his fear of his doctor. There is all the typical elements of any theatrical production, love, a gold-digging wife, a nerd, a loud mouthed housekeeper and a slew of backup dancers. I think the concept of the of mentally creating problems that really don't exist is a very interesting thing to think about.

How many times has someone told you something about yourself, maybe that they didn't like your singing voice, or that your shoes didn't go well with your shirt or maybe someone in the church that looks down on you for something? As soon as all of these things enter our minds we consider changing them. Sometimes i think we are a lot like the main character of the Imaginary Invalid. We are in a shroud of insecurities caused by the words of other people. The doctor tells him that he has all these diseases and problems when the only problem he really has is call "being a poor judge of character." One of my teachers in grade school pulled me aside after class and asked me, "Son, do you have ADD," to which i replied, "No, don't be ridiculous."

BUT THE DAMAGE WAS DONE.

She didn't do it intentionally but she planted a seed in my mind. A seed that grew into an excuse for why I was such a procrastinator. I began to create an Imaginary problem just because I was a hyperactive child. Did i really need to be diagnosed with a disease? NO. All it should of been diagnosed as was a lack of discipline.

I enjoyed the production and it made me think, Be careful whose counsel you listen to and deliberate long and hard before giving your money away to a gold-digging witch. It's also inmportant to filter through all the things that are poured into you, so you do not become, an imaginary invalid.

this blog is very late, but still on topic.

Yesterday my grandmother was admitted to the hospital. Her health is rapidly decreasing and the doctors are not sure how much time she has left. I think it is safe to say that these thoughts consumed me yesterday. Although she is almost 90 years old and has lived a long and happy life, I still wonder about her thoughts. When she looks back on life, does she see a series of regrets, a chain of events that led her here, or all the happy memories that life brings? Does she think about my grandfather's health, and how her death would kill him? After going to the cemetery and looking at the faded and broken tombstones, I think the married people got it right. The ones who aren't even dead but already have looked into the face of their mortality and seen their names written in stone. Wouldn't this cause you to live life without regrets? Never looking back but always seizing every moment like it could be your last. I can't help but think that there are so many things that my Grandmother didn't do, didn't feel, didn't experience. When I talked to her yesterday, she told me that the only thing she wished, is that she didn't have to be in the hospital but instead could go home to take care of my grandfather. Maybe that's love. Something that even in the face of death, denies self and thinks of the other. My grandparents have been married almost 68 years, and maybe they've learned a few things along the way. I think that Whitman is on to something when he questions why we cover coffins with flowers. Don't we do that in everyday life, we look at truly horrible things and then throw some roses on it, make it look prettier than it really is. Death's ugly sting can surely be nullified by sugarcoating it's stinger.

This is a scatterbrained blog, that has very little to do with Whitman, or Lewis, or any of the other things we've read, but Love and Death are really the only things we read about. So in a way, I'd argue that this has everything to do with what we've read. Thinking about other people and there own thoughts, lives, loves and deaths. I think that our reading so far this semester has prepared me for my Grandmother's inevitable date with death. And maybe that's the point of all these readings, assignments, blog entries. It's not about the grade, it's about learning life, and being able to apply bits and pieces of each thing we read and applying it to help us be better at life.

So maybe this blog is late, and all over the place. I know that if i had written it last night it would of been even more scatterbrained.

gravesaide reflection.

The other day I took a trip to the cemetery for a class field trip. At first i didn't really understand how this would be useful to me. I read Whitman's poem and thought that it was just another well crafted string of metaphor and alliteration. But once i began to read his words outloud, surrounded by the sleeping souls of those who had passed, I saw his words in a completely different light.

A few years ago I went to my own grandfather's funeral. I remember thinking about him, in all my twisted memories of who he was and wondering if he could look down on me, and see me, and if he could, would he be proud of the man he left behind? Would he see all the ways he impacted my life? When i was standing there reading Whitman's words about our dark mother, i couldn't help but think of my grandfather, and how i wish that i could of seen death creep towards him, But would the realization of when he would die spare me the pain of that loss? The eulogy was given, and although he was a Christian i couldn't help but feel a pain, almost a loss of hope.

The thought of death always brings such terrifying finality. Reading Whitman at the graveside reminded me that even the best written word, or cleverly crafted speech, would never truly comfort someone dealing with death. All we can do is cover the coffin with flowers and tears and reach out to God even when we don't feel him there.

Death's song is a station that we all hope to avoid, but a station that we all scan pass, hoping that we never have to listen to it's melody.

maybe the married people got it right.

I went to the the cemetery. I stayed for at the least 42 minutes. I took a picture on my phone and now I'm having trouble uploading it. I went there with Andy, Heather and Alex. It was a jolly old time.

drought is four letters short of doubt.

The book of Joel was a very good read. I enjoyed all of it's imagery and although it seemed at some times repetitive, I think that, if we are honest, most of our suffering leads us into circular thinking and doubt. When drought in life comes, it's very easy to doubt even the very existence of God. When storms roll our way it is sometimes easier to grab a man mad umbrella than to turn to the maker of the storm. When the "locusts" of life swarm and feast on all that we love, how will we react. I know that we should cling to God in the face of devastation, so why does it seem so natural to turn away from him. Job is a prime example of a righteous man who was tested. Everything that he labeled important was taken away from him. I think the Book of Joel is a perfect passage to reflect on when trials come.

"No matter how deep, the hole can be, there's always light shining from the top. When everyone turns and runs away, i know that grace will never stop"

Even when we reach that point of famine and think that all hope is lost, it isn't. I think of it like this...

Johnny is dating this girl, who meets all the criteria on his five point check list and even has a nice family. He dates her for a few years and thinks that she is the only girl who his 7 pound heart could ever love. They do, for all intents and purposes love each other. Johnny's woman does him wrong. Johnny's 7 pound heart is broken. In these days/months of recovery/devastation, Johnny doesn't see there being any light, after all she was the "best thing for him." When in all actuality there is some that is so much better and there is a reason he had to feel that hurt.

Everything happens for a reason, famine, hurricane, earthquake, heartbreak. Regardless of whether we immediately see the reason, or it takes a while for us to see the purpose through a cloud of pain.

"although the sorrow may last for the night, the joy comes in the morning."

the things that maybe we should reconsider carrying.

I think the story of the things we carried is a very, very good picture of life. All of us carry things with us that we deem necessary. A dead relative, a missed opportunity, a lie told, regret, doubt, insecurities, love. All these things in some way or another weigh us down. They create this invisible burden that can unconsciously consume us. In the story, the author paints a very interesting picture of all the things they carried. And how some of them weighed no more than an ounce, but still weighed much more than any scale could measure. I think we drag our baggage into all of our life experiences. Some of it can be used to help us in time of need (body armor/lessons learned). And some of it can end up hurting us if not kept in check. I think it is important for all of us to think about the things we carry, and whether or not it is really worth the extra weight. In my own life there are many things that weigh me down (fear of failure, random unnecessary insecurities).

After reading and reflecting, now applying should take place.

In all of our lives we need to access the things that are worth carrying into battle. When we approach the front lines of each new trial, what type of equipment is required to conquer each new foe. All the things that reduce our effectiveness should be shed and lade down. Whether it is by burning letters in the fire or forgiving someone who wronged you. We all need to look in the mirror and see the things we carry, which of them improve us, and which of them impede us from running our race effectively.

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us." (Hebrews 12:1)

a breif recap on a greif obeserved.

After finishing A Grief Observed, I thought that this would be a pertinent time to wrap up my thoughts about this book. Every class we are asked what struck us about the reading, and every time the thought crossed my mind to write the same thing. Then my mind jumped to the fact that it may sound as if i hadn't read the book if i wrote the same thing.

Transparency.

Lewis is always brutally honest. But this book is more than just a collection of honest reflections. The examples he gives to back up his thoughts are brilliant. His analogies of the house of cards makes his whole argument come full circle. He uses it at the beginning of the book and then finds new meaning in his own analogy by the end. At the beginning of the book he only sees the vicious cycle that is the house of cards. That no matter how many times we construct one, it always comes crumbling down. Towards the end of the book his view changes from that of hopeless destruction of his house to a necessary process required for building faith.

Another great point that Lewis makes is our almost unconscious ability to create ideal versions of people we know and even the God we serve. All to often we build people up in our minds to where we think they are something that they really aren't. I have these grandparents that live very far away. And although i only see them once or twice a year I always have this prefabricated notion of what they will look, act and smell like. In my mind i always visualize them in same way. I add and take away certain traits to make them into my perfect grandparents. Lewis says that we do the same thing with God. We build God up to be all these things that he really isn't. Lewis suggest we shouldn't love our idea of God, but God. Not my ideal versions of my grandparents, but my grandparents. Not what I think of my neighbors, but my actual neighbors.

Overall i think this was an excellent read and i strongly suggest it to anyone who is dealing with grief or may at sometime in life, deal with grief.