Worth Striving For.

I've decided that life can only be lived in strives. yes, strives.

Life can pass you by in million fleeting and whispery moments that barely let you analyze anything about what you feel in that moment or what you think about the world in that moment or how you view yourself in that moment. The overall effect can be, well, numbing. Combined with our daily routines of school, work, tv programs, laundry, or maybe for the lucky ones, gym-going, we can get lost in the monotony of it all and lose our sense of direction. of purpose. of being. we become numb. we grow accustomed. but even worse, we stop dreaming. 

It is only in the dreaming, the striving, the desire, do we find purpose. In the yearning for something more do we see ourselves as plainly as we ever had. In the hoping do we make change--in ourselves, in our bodies, in our minds, and hopefully in the world. perhaps we never get to see our lives as clearly as when we are in the act of striving. striving is what keeps us. what keeps us whole, what keeps us sane, what keeps us alive. Because the minute we stop striving, is the minute we grow numb and loose ourselves all over again. the journey moves us and is what moves us. 

 it is powerful. it is what moves the world. it is desire and passion and irresistible. striving is beautiful. to strive is to live. to live well. to live happily. like jesse, happiness is in the doing.

This is how my heart behaves...

what does it mean to have a great love?

is it heart-pounding in your ears nervousness? is it sweaty palms? is it moments of sheer euphoria? is it mutual? is it unrequited? does it come with crippling sadness? is it every moment of every day? is it conscious? is it deliberate? is it sickening? is it considerate? is it always? is it ever boring? is it found racing in your veins? is it always novel? is it beautiful?

is it the kind of love fairy tales are made of? 

I, of all people, should know better. I call myself a cynic, a pessimist, and I am fully aware of the reality of life. And yet I still am, at my best, a ridiculously hopeless--and I mean hopeless--romantic. I won't hardly admit aloud that I like the idea or soulmates--of the idea that two people were made entirely for one another, of destiny, of happily-ever after and all that (I know, I cringe as I read this too).

The worst part of life for people like me, and all you sick romantics, is we are constantly measuring our relationship against the impossible knight in shining armour, Mr. Perfect, or, as I like to call him, Mr. Darcy. 

Because...whether we admit it to ourselves, or whether we wear our hearts on our sleeves for the whole world to see... we want that great love. I want that heart-stopping kind of love, those ever illusive moments where something far greater than yourself just overwhelms you and makes you a part of something cosmic and instinctive and awe-some. 

So can people like me ever have normal relationships? Sure, I can say that I know the difference between whats real and whats ideal, but that doesn't mean I won't still have expectations or fantasizes inspired by my own Mr. Darcy of what I want out of relationships and what I want from anyone I'm with. Don't get me wrong, I'm not dressing up in period costume or purposely trying to create moments of romantic comedies. And I know I shouldn't, because it's incredibly unfair, but  I can't help but think...

is this the way it's supposed to be?

Is this my great love? Is this it?

oh, perish the thought. the whole point of Mr. Darcy is that he IS ideal. He is perfect. He is flawless. He lives in a world that is controlled solely by me and my thoughts and my wants and needs. He can always be everything I need. He never fails me. But the boyfriends of the reality kind are a bit different. They have flaws. Lots of them. They have no idea what I'm thinking or needing or feeling. They don't always come through. They can't be my everything.

So where does that leave me? Do I forfeit the dream of the Mr. Darcys and the Mr. McDreamys for the Mr. LetmeDowns and the Mr. MakemeCrys just because the boys of the reality kind have settled for some deficient standard? Must I, in turn, settle? Do I give up on the notion of a perfect feeling of love?

Or is it a matter of shifting my perspective? Mr. Darcy will always be there when I need him, but in the meantime, maybe this reality kind of love is exactly what I'm meant to have. What I'm supposed to experience and perfect in ways I have yet to appreciate.  

It may not always be butterflies, or sweaty palms. It may not be an obvious kind of love. It may not be the stuff that fairy tale endings are made of. 

But it is a real kind of love. It is a truer kind of love. And that is more than any Mr. knight in shining armour could ever give.

Where did the time go?

It's already mid-summer and I can honestly say that I have accomplished a whole lot...of nothing, that is. Ideally, I would already have read through a couple books, translated a couple hundred lines of latin, be along in my internship, begun studying to retake my GRE. what exactly have I done? Watched all 20+ episodes of season 3 Grey's Anatomy, played a couple hundred rounds of text twist (now conveniently located on my bookmarks bar), not to mention my daily crossword, dropped my internship. summer just has a way of making me LAZY, I can't help it. 

On another note, I am cooking/baking a whole lot. trying out new recipes and even my birthday present (my food processor) which I finally got around to using last week when I was making cheesecake. It even came with a recipe book so I can make my own bread and pizza dough among other things. The only draw back is that since I bake so much, I'm also left E.A.T.I.N.G. all that I make which isnt a good thing for me, the gym-dis-inclined haha.

BUT he and I started taking a cycling class on tuesdays (and possibly) thursdays so at least I'll be forced to go since I'm in a class. I like the instructor guy on tuesdays because he's chill and plays 80s music, but the girl on thursdays is sooo psycho. we were late for her class so we didnt go in since we couldnt get bikes next to each other, but I was watching through the glass and she was making them go so fast and hard for like the whole hour. people were just dripping sweat and looked like they were training for the freaking tour de france. I would have died if I was in that class. So I think i'm sticking to tuesday mornings as my cycle day. the funny thing was, last class, oj couldnt even make it through the whole hour. he said he was "dehydrated" so he left about half way through and right before we did the most grueling part of the class! talk about being lazy!

on another note, my bestest backup in the whole wide world finally came home last week! I was so excited and nervous to see him after him being away in Paris for a whole year--and our communication was sparse. it was a long tough year but its so wonderful to have him back and we have such plans to get to! the only thing that could make things better is if sonya would just get back here and stay here...