Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

It all comes down to shame

I've always found the story of Adam and Eve to be very interesting. I remember being a kid, about eight years old, at a different church than the one I am now attending. At Sunday school they were teaching us about the origins of the earth, about Eve and how she picked up that apple (or whatever fruit it was) and how it all went downhill from there. One thing stuck with me. The Sunday school teacher asked us if we thought we would've done better, but there was not one doubt in me, even at that young age, that I would've done exactly the same due to various reason.

Back then I already knew that I was curious. I wanted to know everything and not eating that apple would've meant not understanding the world they lived on, which didn't seem good enough. Later, when I was older I thought that I would've eaten it because the snake was good at convincing. I can imagine it saying something like "he does care for you, sure, but he has his own superior motives in mind. He isn't giving you everything, but expects you to be obedient. That isn't fair, is it?" My fear of not getting enough, of always being the second would have gotten to me and I would have fallen for that trap, for sure.

Nowadays I assume I would probably still not be able to deny, mainly because I am back to wanting to know everything. Knowledge and understand is very appealing to me and we are speaking of the tree of knowledge. Of course I would've bloody eaten the fruit; I don't doubt myself for a second there. I would have yielded oh so quickly. And what happened next is not a secret.

Eve convinced Adam to eat of it too, and then they hid in the woods, as all of a sudden they felt shame. Ever since that moment, whether it really did happen or not, we are prone to be ashamed and we are. And when we are too ashamed we try to hide, to cover up and to pretend like it never happened. That's how God found them. All of a sudden aware of their nakedness, they didn't try to dare walk around in front of God anymore. I can imagine them only just starting to understand who they were spending time with. They didn't feel at peace around him anymore because they got a grasp at how important he is. That's how I imagine. And when God figured out what happened I can only imagine how sad he felt; because he loved the two of them dearly. I think he wanted to be close to them, but now shame separated them forever.

That's how it is today. I realized just how bad shame is controlling us all, but when I realized, I could see traces in the lives of every person around me, also in mine. My father is ashamed so he is drinking to cover up. My friend is ashamed so she hides behind fear, that guy is ashamed and so he pretends, the next person is ashamed and so they try to compensate. I am ashamed and so I am angry, or sad, or secretive or I don't know.

Now don't get me wrong. There are moments that feeling ashamed is appropriate, mostly when it is paired with feeling sorry. When you did something wrong, being ashamed for what you did is key to asking for forgiveness. Adam and Eve ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil so we now know what good and evil is. So when we do evil, we will feel ashamed. SO the problem for me is not the feeling ashamed, it's the being and staying ashamed. It's the covering up our shame instead of being open about it.

I figured that out the hard way, but at least I did figure it out. When I finally allowed to myself to think about the whole questioning-my-own-sexuality-thing I was relived to figure it out. But only when I spoke about it in public for the first time I felt like it was done. Before that I was happy to have an answer, but I was still ashamed about all of it. That's why I deleted three drafts of that post, too scared to go public even on this blog. What would my friends who have access think? Those are people I care about, what would happen?

Before even posting about it here, before speaking to anyone, I managed to put even more shame on my life. I met up with some friends during the week, and we joked as usually. That day had been kind of shitty and I was tired from sleeping badly when someone I care about a lot said something that hurt me. At first I didn't notice, I joked back didn't even think about it. When I left I could already feel something coming up, but I told myself I was just tired.

Walking to the bus stop I heard what he said on repeat in my mind, and everything it got worse. In the bus I basically shouted at myself to not cry in public. By the time I was home I ran to the bathroom and cried. The next day I woke up furious. At myself for letting that person hurt me, at that person for daring to do so. And I fuelled my anger. I refused to talk to them, look at them, even tried to not think about them, only broke that to be angry at them. I couldn't let it go, even though I told myself it was a joke, no harm intended, it was a little thing and I should not make fuzz about it. But I couldn't. Also I could not tell that person because goodness gracious, I am not such a sissy to get angry about some sarcasm, am I?

Almost a week after it happened, I was still hurt, angry and sad, it hit me. I was so ashamed about my own feelings and the fact that it got to me so badly, that I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had a good laugh at myself trust me, but then I started to think this through. In order to being able to forgive that person, I needed to tell them, no way around it. So I had to address the issue and be open about how they managed to hit a spot, I had to expose the wound, again, and hope they wouldn't use it against me. What a risk. In the moment I took that decision, I had this feeling that it was exactly the right thing to do. I was closing the door to anger, and tried to clear my thoughts instead.

So the next day, I felt better. All of a sudden I was able to let it go, but this time, I decided against it. I knew that not speaking about it would give me a short time rest; I wanted it to be gone for real though. I prepared my words and texted my friend. Afterwards came fifteen minutes of absolute utter fear. I had made my point and awaited an answer, in total horror of the fact that I had been painfully honest once again. You know what? Once again it was the right thing to do. All my fears of them using it against me were totally in vain and the reply all in all just showed me how much of a mess I made out of nothing. Still I claim that I did what I had to do. Being ashamed doesn't fix it, it might be a good start to feel it, but to use it in order to solve a conflict is better than to try to hide forever, because I think no one is able to hide forever. Adam had to speak with God and both of them had to life with the mess they created, that's what we still need to do today.

I think most problems happen because we are hurt beings. We are hurt in many ways throughout our life and we can only take so much of it until we fall. Even in paradise they got hurt, and they were protected well. So maybe we should start questioning we hold on to grudges, why we keep being angry and why we blood can't open our mouths about or feelings in general. Maybe we should stop being ashamed, not overnight just to walk right into the trap again tomorrow, but instead slowly but surely start to realize that shame is not the end of the road, it could just indicate that it's time to adjust the path a bit to get past this obstacle.

And mistakes happen, look at Eve, but don't let them take you down, be forgiving with yourself and others.


Cheerio.

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

The sound of a heart

I always liked music. That is definitely true. The thing about me saying I like it implies though, that I don't love it. I can do well without it. Even "Christian music" or worship music. It's just not as important for me as it seems to be for others. I played the flute for almost ten years, tried to teach myself guitar, sung in various choirs. Music is fine, really, just not everything. Still there are moments and songs in my head that are inseparable. 

I remember being sixteen on a night train to Barcelona. The story sounds way more interesting told this way. We went there do the second part of our class exchange program that we had with a school in Alicante. So we sat there, thirteen teenagers squished in a railway compartment that was build for four people. It was hot, there was no space. We were drinking, listening to music, being the teenagers we were. Next to me sat my crush, a guy who should later, starting with that week, slowly become my best friend. He had smuggled a bottle of Jägermeister into the train. I tried a bit; to my utter surprise I liked it. He laughed at me and I guess my heart kind of stopped that moment. Then a song came on. "Behind blue eyes". We both have blue eyes and I blurted out without thinking that I really liked that song. It spoke about pain you hide, and I think all people who remember their teenage years know how it is to hide at least a little pain. So we kind of started to chat about music, figuring out that we both cared more for lyrics than for tunes. We connected somehow.

Later that night I sat next to another guy after having changed the compartment to the one my friends and I slept in (the "neighbours" were nicer there). Again, I spoke about music, this time about that kind, that is heavily bass, drums and guitar infused. I got introduced to some bands I still listen to and to the kind of music called nu metal. I never liked the screamo, so this fit me.

I hardly ever spoke to the boys in my class to this point. I did not have any male friends to be honest, so just chatting with them was odd for me. That's why probably the topic stuck so much. Sometimes I still smile at that person I was. Today I feel totally comfortable and at ease around guys. Sixteen year old self could not know.

There is another song that was some sort of life changing to me. It was a day after my fourteenth birthday, Good Friday. We went to a camp in the morning, in the evening we had the usual christian camp thing, someone talking about the bible, worship, etc. I can't really remember how it went, it is kind of blurry, but throughout the evening I decided to become a Christian, to follow Jesus. Somehow linked to that is a German song. I don't know what it was; it just made me understand all those things I couldn't before. The thing with that song is, it's not one we sing at church. Sometimes they do sing it at big gatherings though, like the camp I was between Christmas and new years. I don't listen to it throughout the year as it is really dear to me and I don't want it to lose its magic. Why is it so special? My body reacts to it very much. All of a sudden I feel like that fourteen year old girl again, it is like newly enamoured, but instead of some stupid boy, I feel enamoured of God. I have weak knees, I start to cry, I am shaky, and butterflies are in my tummy. I wouldn't want it to happen randomly, but to have that feeling every once in a while is glorious, it grounds me and reminds me that fourteen year old me was able to decided bloody wisely.

In general, I think if there was a particular music playing during important moments of your life, then those songs will stick with you. I have a song stuck in my head almost every day, which is just kind of part of my life. I once even wrote that music is the background of life. It has no main character qualities for me, but it can enhance the bigger picture of a situation. 

The next story is terribly cheesy. I said when I was sixteen I was in Spain with my class. The second day after we went there, the whole group went to go to a theme park close to Alicante. Most of the day we spend as a group together. I have to admit that I am terribly afraid of rides, still I went on all, except two (one looked scarier than I could take, the other was a free fall thing, not fond of them). Sometime in the afternoon the guy I talked about earlier got kind of bored. Most of the group wanted to see a show whilst he wanted to go on more rides. Crushing on someone makes you do stupid things, so I said I would join him. The two of us left the group and we went on all the rides we wanted. I did not care much about my fears, I just went along, which was odd for me. Especially when I say it once more that I had no male friends at that time. One on one with a guy I felt very insecure. We knew when the show was over, so we went to await the others at the main gate. We were exhausted so we sat down, out of a speaker there played some music. All of a sudden a song came on by Céline Dion. I was surprised that I recognized it, as I only downloaded it the week before going to Spain. It was a terribly itchy cheesy song, but for my current situation very fitting. So I sat there, enjoying the irony of a song describing my exact emotions, not saying a word about them. Then the group came back and the moment was over. 

Right now, as I have Spotify on shuffle, the song Hosanna came on, another one of my all time favourites. I remember a time where I could not bear to listen to Christian music. I didn't feel like praising God, so I thought that I was lying when I listened to those songs nevertheless. The only song I didn't skip on my mp3 was this. 

I mentioned earlier that I care about lyrics more than I do care about tunes. I really do, especially when I find that the singer does not represent the words of the song correctly. I have spent hours searching for covers of songs, until in my head the voice and lyrics aligned. I also refuse to listen to any music I don't understand the lyrics off. With the exception of some party tunes due to nostalgia I mostly listen to songs that I at least some sort of agree with the lyrics with. If you want to go on my nerves start blasting Pitbull with "whistleblower" or "wiggle", that'll do. Or sing "take me to church" as a friend of mine has been doing recently. I prefer not having those stuck in my head, thank you.

A lot of people I know care so much about music. Some songs have carried me through a lot, and the past two weeks I have been listening to worship music more than usually, due to reasons I might explain later. Still, I know that I feel way better when stuck with words, written words, black on white. A tune can carry an emotion much easier than a word, music is universal. Maybe that's why I'm more impressed with the other, as you are limited by language. How to express something like an emotion with words? It does make less sense than expressing it by a melody. Also, have you ever heard of songs that carry a story? I love those!

To be honest I just assume that I have a very unpopular opinion on music. I know so many people who care about it beyond all measures, that go to oh so many concerts in their life, that pay lots of money for it and kind of just crazy. I can't really understand that. I use it as a means to an end when I study for something or write on a paper. Sometimes I also just relax to it, but that is a rare occurrence. I have cried cause of songs, laughed, I felt emotions due to some, but that does not change how I feel about it in general. Yes, songs have me inspired to write before, as they will continue but music does not mean everything to me and that is just the way it is, which works out fine for me. Music is not the voice my heart speaks.e I'm quite happy that I don't have to be passionate about it, just imagine how boring that would be. I'll stick with my crappy writing.

Cheerio.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Remember Remember, the Joys of November

Excuse the sneaky little V for Vendetta reference there, it just had to happen ok? Well today is December 3rd and it's time for me to look back on my favourite month. This hasn't always been this way, I still remember 2010, which was horrible. Ever since then though, every November is just predestined to be awesome

The first thing shouldn't be a novelty on this side. Since 2011, November is my favourite month cause of NaNoWriMo. Yes, December is cool cause of Christmas, and in March is my birthday, but the month long joy/stress/awesomeness of writing a novel isn't to be topped by anything else, sorry. This year was stressful in many ways. I wasn't sure about participating due to an absolute lack of plot. At the start of October I didn't feel like I was prepared at all. Then the month went on and still, absolute blankness in my head. A couple of days before NaNo started I went back to the forums, just to be sucked into the crazy once more. It's hard to quit when you see others getting prepared. On the 31th October I had this rough idea of a girl on a zeppelin, on the way to the colonies. Kind of steam-punk, also maybe including the early history of New Orleans and the Casquette-Girls. Instead of plotting more, I drew the characters, so when the hour struck, I was absolutely helpless, but still ready to fight.




I might not be very good at drawing, but I enjoyed this for sure


I set myself many different goals through the month. One was as always to win by the 15th, so I could do Uni stuff that I was required to do during the second half. As most of my plans, that didn't work out. It wasn't helpful that I do have a demanding social live, a conference at my church on the second weekend, a weekend-long trip to Germany during the third  and work and a housewarming party on the fourth, plus two papers due on the fifth. Throughout the week I had to go to classes obviously, also we had this project going on at work that had to be done by the and of November. No writing time there either. Oh, and may I add the time spend with friends chilling and the birthday surprise party we threw for the flatmate? The more I think of it the more astonished I get on how on earth I even considered winning it.

In addition to that, as ever year we had chat-rooms. Like last year my time was spend in two of them for the most. The swissnanos and the Burmingham-Westmidlands, as we made friends there last year. The good thing were the people who are all completely utterly bonkers.


The bad thing was, how to focus when there is so much funny things going on there too?In addition to a life at uni and a life at home, I also had to deal with an online life. That is lovely on the one hand side, but it is not helpful when trying to squeze words out of your brain. Though I have to add that I would've never made it to the finish-line without these nutters supporting me and cheering for me to keep going.

Jup you read it right. I did not make it by the 15th, but by 11 o'clock on the 30th November, I hit 50'000 words. The last weekend was the worst. I still was around 15 k away and I had two papers to hand in. That meant having to pull through two all-nighters, one keeping me up till 4 am, the other till 5 am. I can't speak for the quality of my papers, but they were handed in in time, which was all that mattered to me then. On Sunday, I broke my highest amount of words in a day, which now is 8,9 k. My computer crashed which almost lead to me losing more than 5k words (I was able to fix it and only lose 700, but those 5 mins where terrifying). Special thanks to two insomniacs at this point, it was an honour having you with me during those nights.


This year was my hardest battle for winning NaNo so far. I present to you the stats of someone, who really overestimated them self, but fought till the end. I might also add, that this is only the second year for me to win with working on one story only. One is allowed to work on multiple projects and add the words, but that is considered rebelling. So instead of winning on the 15th, I won without rebelling this year, which makes me proud too. My story is a mess and I'm not even anywhere near a good point to finish, but NaNo this year was a true blast. Thanks to the #swissingham people, you are crazy in the best ways. Thanks to the purple elephants, thanks to the Brummies and the Swissnanos.

Oh, and sorry for all the people that were cut short this month, or for everyone that had to work with me. It was not easy, I try to focus on real live this month though (and all the tests, yay) .

Once again, NaNoWriMo for me means being crazy. I have a lot of madness inside of me and I try to push it down for 335 day of the year, 30 days of just forgetting about that makes me feel the happiest I can be. Having a story that came in your mind last minute? No problem. A new character you never planned? Sure. Bloody vampires out of nowhere? What has to happen happens. Of course in that process I get sad and confused and frustrated, but once again, all I can say is that I love love love it and if you ask me, I would do it again in no time, cause it is simply worth it to me.

Well that was my November experience, stressful but worth it. Sometimes it is just really nice to have something you can always look forward to. Is there there something like that for you too?

Cheerio.