Vedanta’s 2 Symptoms of Enlightenment: Calmness and Coincidences

I’ve never woken up before the sunrise on a regular basis during the summer, and I was surprised to find out that even the sun struggles to wipe the sleep and stars out of it’s eyes. The moody clouds slip away as the caffeine starts to thud in our veins with it’s normal rhythm, the thump-thump of my heartbeat marking pace for the sweet serenade of the mourning doves

Mourning doves are truly the only real “morning people.”

I am not.  In fact, I wanted to be nothing like those birds.  I will mourn nothing this summer, I told myself, because I am going to grow and make money and learn to become a real adult. What I didn’t realize is that becoming an adult is ultimately a process of mourning.  The early 20s are so hard because you are mourning the loss of your childhood innocence, the loss of your dependence on your family, the loss of the happiness that used to tinge your rose-colored glasses.  Becoming an adult is actually a very sad thing – now you know why children think adults never smile.

I promised myself that I would learn to like myself even if I didn’t like the circumstances in which I found myself.  I would try and figure out how to live at peace when all of my choices left me mangled inside and wondering how my life was supposed to be a masterpiece when the broken pieces kept slipping through my fingers.

That’s the thing about life. It’s a mosaic.  All the shattered glass, all the accidents that cause the vase to fall off the table, all the scratches and the grooves, the mismatching colors and tiles that don’t fit together quite right – that’s what my life is made of. It’s a glorious mess that sometimes cuts my fingers if I try to manipulate it too much.

I’m grateful for it.  I wasn’t always that way, but I’m learning.

I’m learning to let go.  My plan for my life is nothing compared to the plan that God has for me.  Sometimes it’s nice to remember that He hold the world and therefore, he can handle this moment in my life.

I’m learning to be grateful.  I’m learning to appreciate the little things, like brown sugar in my oatmeal (it’s gross without it – like eating flavorless vomit) and coffee that doesn’t come from a packet.  And I may spending 3 hours commuting to-and-from work, but at least I have a lot of time to listen to the radio.

I’m learning to find peace. Did you know you can pray with your eyes open?  And you don’t have to say the words out loud?  AND you can pray for things that happen in the moment, or will happen in a few minutes or months or years?  Seems like a common sense thing, but I’m just starting to figure it out.

It’s quite enlightening.  I’m peeling back the layers to find a more refined person in my skin than I thought existed.  She’s calmer than I am.  She remembers to breathe when she’s walking down the hallway. I even think she has less muscle knots than I do…

I’m not in school right now, but it’s amazing how much I’m learning.

 

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You’re always you, and that don’t change, and you’re always changing, and that don’t change neither.

Hello, you old person, you.

You’ve got quite an impressive list of words underneath your name on this sheet of paper that you’ve titled “Resume.” I even see you completed an internship at SBMF.

That’s right, folks! Tomorrow is my last day at my first summer internship. I’m a whole lot smarter, a heck of a lot poorer, and technically I’ve still got three weeks of summer left. Enough time to perform my bridesmaid’s duties and go dress shopping with one of my good friends/the bride-to-be. Yep, you read that right. I’m also old enough to be a bridesmaid.

Shoot, I’ve aged a lot this summer.

With all my newly found free time, you can expect some more posts.

It’s good to be back.

Failure is the condiment that gives success it’s flavor.

I shipwrecked myself.

I had a goal and a deadline. I had a plotline and a series of characters that would interact with each other wonderfully and awkwardly and every bit in between. And somewhere along the way, I took a wrong turn (or deliberately ignored my GPS) and decided not to go to the final destination that I chose for myself nearly one month ago.

I had a dream of completing another novel this summer. I’m sure you guys heard about the plan in one of my previous posts — I think I even posted about it on another blog!

But I failed.

Worse than that, I made a choice to fail.

I got home every night from my second internship and told myself that after dinner, I would write. I would write because I spent at least 8 hours thinking about science and contemplating complex ideas like chromosomes and florescent DNA stains and fruit flies with legs coming out of their heads (oh, its a thing!) and I need to switch my brain into English mode.

But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sit myself down and force myself to write anything worth keeping. I tried everyday for the first week and a half until I realized that there was no possible way that I could finish 50,000 words in two and half weeks. My characters were perfect — a good friend forced me to do a writing sprint where I wrote as much as I could in 10 minutes and I wrote everything I possibly could about my characters.

Heck, the main one was actually supposed to be like me. My protagonist never usually represents me and this time, she was! Oh, I had goals. I had dreams of a witty book, full of one-liners and humor that people would try to emulate. A tale that everyone could relate to and yet was shrouded in a mist that clouded people from true understand — after all, how many people have worked with fruit flies and the segregation distorter gene?

I barely breathed one page of life into my book. And as I look upon the dwindling days of June and see July hovering in it’s sticky humidity, I wonder if I truly failed?

Don’t look at me like that. It’s true! Maybe I didn’t fail after all.

Maybe last summer was a summer of growth. Maybe it was a time where I got to do whatever I wanted in order to discover exactly what it was that I wanted. Maybe I was able to settle my roots into a new city and meet new people and see how strong my roots could be. It was a happy summer and one that nourished my creativity and inspired me to write over 50,000 words of a book that I could be at least a little proud of.

And maybe this summer wasn’t meant for any of those things.

Maybe this summer is a summer of testing. Maybe it’s a time where I don’t get to do whatever I want so that someday I can do whatever I want since I fattened my resume. Maybe it’s so I can learn how to be transplanted somewhere I didn’t expect to live. Maybe this is where I find out just how strong my roots are when things don’t go my way and I don’t know anybody. This isn’t a happy summer, but it’s one where I get to see just how much I can take and see how many gardening puns I can dig up.

And you know what? I think I can be proud of that.

No one sees the original but only the copies.

I’m not super inspirational today — although I’m sure I could crank out some type of post by tonight when I have a 3 hour drive to think about whatever I want. However, I will tease with these snippets until I can post my own words. It’s amazing how easy things can be when you let someone else do them for you.

This might come in handy due to my summer schedule and absolute total lack of motivation.

Also, TED talks always make me feel simultaneously great and terrible about myself. This one is fantastic — plus, it just happens to be from JK Rowling.

The only dreams that matter are the ones you have when you’re awake.

I think I’m gonna do it.

Remember my last post when I was bemoaning my boring life and not really looking forward to the summer, but at the same time, totally inspired to do something — except that I didn’t know what it was?

I think I’m going to do a fashion blog. I’ve been talking about it forever, but I think this summer, I’m actually going to do it.

I think I’ll have a separate blog (title pending…) but I will continue to post on this one and the other. This one is still near and dear to my heart and I don’t want to see it go just yet. I still plan on writing a book this summer — by the way, dear reader, I’m very open to suggestions since I have no idea what the plot is going to be at all. I don’t even have one single character idea.

That’s my little update.

It’s like the longing in the whistle of a faraway train. Except that the longing is in you.

I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.

On one hand, I want to take advantage of everything that life has to offer. I want to go out this summer and go something exciting, to write a second book, to get a job as a barista at Starbucks because it sounds like a fun new experience, to work in a research lab because I would love to learn more about science, to do something that I can look back and think “yes, that was a summer that impacted me.”

On the other hand, I’m bored with going through the motions. I’m just flipping through the pages so that I can take the test, just breathing in and out so I can keep trudging on the same sidewalks, just waking up early to get the stuff done and then collapse when I get home.

I can’t decide if I’m restless or just plain bored.

Maybe I’m overthinking things because I’m halfway done with my college career and I’m halfway done with finals week. Maybe the coffee I drank this morning was accidently decaf. Maybe my brain has turned to mush from memorizing all these concepts.

I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I want to start running early in the morning – maybe early enough that I can see the sunrise and chase it across the bridge over the water. That explains the restless sensation.

I also want a change of scenery. I want to go out and do things. I want to shop at an open-air market and cook a new recipe. I want to read a new book that actually interests me. I want to explore something. Maybe this summer, I’ll make it a goal to meet one new person per week. Or maybe not because I’m introverted and have the tendency to be a bit shy. Either way, that explains the bored feeling.

Call it wanderlust. Call it boredom. Call it whatever you wish. I don’t have the words to explain it, but perhaps my silence on the matter will communicate it more clearly than all these words on the page. I have half a mind to delete this whole post because it’s not saying anything remotely important.

But I won’t.

Because I’m saying something and maybe that the important part.