No Man's An Island

So in the school yesterday, the teacher said:

"A disciple builds relationships, a Christian doesn't."

I have this notion that being alone is very..romantic.

Like a picture, taken with Instagram, no matter how mundane or absurd, it looks emotive.

I like to be with my own thoughts, reading and writing my book. Not saying a word to anyone, listening to music and being generally contemplative about my life so I can put words into my writing.

And in the process, I lose people. I don't remember the last time I asked a friend out for coffee. Or a beer. Or a meal.

Or to drive anywhere, randomly, with nothing but music and each other for company.

When was the last time I called a friend up for a chat? Or at the very, very least, chatted over some social media with someone who is in another continent?

When was the last time I wrote a letter - whether electronically or with ink - to a friend?

You may think, well, it's not your fault, they don't do that either - you're wrong. They do. They text, whatsapp, chat. Email. Write. Tweet. Poke. Whathaveyou.

They initiate conversations. They ask me about random details of my life.

The bottom line is, they care. They love me by giving me their time.

And without being self-depreciating, what the hell have I been doing? I'm supposed to be a Christian, where relationships are of paramount importance, and where a certain book once said "Love your neighbour as yourself".

There is no harm in wanting some me time, nothing at all, but when it gets to the point where I find people boring and unappealing, then the fault is not in them, but in me, because people are interesting.

Period.

I want to be a writer, where my message will reach the masses, but what good am I as a person if I can't even reach a friend?

I thought about it, and at the end of it all, I'd rather it be said that I was a great friend, who care and loved, instead of 'that dude who wrote some cool books'.

What about you?

as

I Don't Want Shelter From the Storm

I don't want shelter from the storm

I want to stand in the rain

Feel its sting

Know its power

I want to sing aloud

As the water runs off my skin

To drink in the fury

To dance to the beat of the thunder

I don't want shelter from the storm

I don't want to hide

Nor to sit in the dry

And watch beside

I want to understand it

Learn from it

Feel from it

Live from it

I don't want safe

I don't want comfortable

I don't want familiar

I don't want only okay

Neither the lies from it

Not the disguise of it

Nor the silent cries of it

I don't want shelter from the storm

Me against its winds

Fragility against its weight

Fleeting steps against its rain

My being against it crushing blackness

I will throw my might against it

Test my mettle against the storm

Know my Maker as I stand in its midst

And take His hand
as

Ready? Go.

I'm very good at beginnings. I like to start stuff, to embark on newer journeys and taste hitherto untried experiences - be it hiking on a new trail, driving up a strange road or biting into a crunchy bug in Thailand. So long as it's new, I'd probably want to try it - even if it could be detrimental to my health.

Which brings me to my next point. I'm good at beginnings, but I am very bad at the middles, and let's not even go to the endings.

I recently embarked on a brand new experience - kind of like a class to learn more about God. I go nights, after work, and while I won't say it is overtly difficult, it is anything but easy.

Imagine, every session there is a new revelation being taught, and bit by bit, God chisels at my heart and corrects skewed perspectives. At the very least, I learn something new, and at the most, I am stripped bare of everything I am before my God.

It is pretty heavy stuff.

In the Bible it is written: I have fought a good fight, I've finished the race. There is no mention of the excellence by which the race was started. It say I have finished the race. It didn't say I have finished the race first, and it definitely didn't say I finished the race well. It just says I've finished.

That's it.

And I'd really like to finish something for a change. My last two relationships - both of which I swore would be my last - ended with a parting of ways. I have yet to even graduate because I've been so focused on my work - I know it's foolish, believe you me. And I know that work - while fulfilling and interesting because it is still new - will one day become stale when I've learned all there is.

It is a bad habit of mine. Start, get bored halfway through, jump on to another project/thing/interest without completing the first.

Yesterday, a thought occurred to me whilst worship in one of the sessions: what if God is not enough? What if I find out that He isn't enough? What if, at the end of the day, this is all we have?

But He was kind enough to throw a challenge back to me. He asked me to really seek Him, and He will prove that He is - He will prove that He is everything.

What will he prove in the months to come? I don't know, but I am excited, and for once, I know this: I want to finish, and I want to finish well. Hell, I want to finish and beat everyone else, but that's my pride talking.

I want to finish something. Something that adds more value to both myself and the world. Something that will meet both my personal aspirations as well as help make the world around me that little bit more beautiful - or at the very least, bearable, although I'd like to think life is beautiful.

This time around, I will.

as

Walking Back

I took a small detour down memory lane yesterday, after visiting the KLIAF in Mines. It was a place with a significant memory. What happens to all these, I wonder? What happens to all the people and places that you have inside you? What happens when you do not want them to be there anymore?

It was a road I've never taken in years - fact of the matter is that I've forgotten about it entirely, having only used it once, and yesterday, when going to Mines, I recognised it.

It was pouring badly by the time I got to visit in the evening - thunder and lightning was playing catch through the dark skies, and the rain was slicking the roads dangerously. I've forgotten about condition of the roads here - I remember always scrunching my face when I play with the wheel trying to avoid them.

I remember the first time I went to that park. It was in the middle of the afternoon, so there was no one, just the heat, the unending whrrr of cicadas interspersed with the occasional drone from the highway.

And you.

I challenged a friend a few days ago to be more honest in her writing - to write as it is, as she is, and not as the world perceives her to be. Easy to say, less so to do, and so I am trying to follow my own words and her steps.

And be a little more fucking honest with myself. Memory is a beautiful place to be, its lanes shady and warm. In reality, the place was absolutely inundated. There was no lighting by the time I parked the car, just torrents of rain - the kind that presses a mute button on the world, and all you hear is the rain.

Then I got out of my car and walked right into it. Have you ever stood in the rain? Not walk in it trying to go to the bus stop or walk through it hoping for shelter - just stand in it, just because.

I revisited a place in my memory, a beautiful place, and now I'm soaked through and I loved it.

I loved this place, but haunted as it is now - haunted by memories and goodbyes - I love it still. I was so scared to come back here, to revisit the place, that's why I left it alone for so long.

Having come for a piece of myself which I believe was left there for keeps, I think, it was a transcendental experience. One I needed, and deep down, I believe, I wanted.

It's not often I write something so personal, and while it is a little cryptic, it's still here, as a reminder to myself in the event I lose myself a little again.
as