Friday, January 24, 2014

When Writing: Land



Land:
January, 23rd 

I can feel it. 
Our soles are thick, 
But the beating heart is pounding.
I can hear it.
Her cool breath,
Seeps its way into my bones,
Leaving her stained kiss 
Upon my cheeks. 
Maternal love.
Through my veins, 
Runs a surge of belonging. 
The earth, 
Her body, 
The silence of the wood,
Reconnecting us.  
Softening our callused hearts.
Our souls are thick, 
But I can feel it. 

















Friday, January 10, 2014

La nouvelle année

   It's a new year, folks. I'd like to start it off agreeing with my friend Neil Gaiman. 


"I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes. Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, tryig new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing  your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're doing something. So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make new mistakes, make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is; art, or love, or work or family or life. Whatever it is you're scared of doing, 
DO IT. 
Make your mistakes, next year and forever." 



        I've spent my whole life making New Year's Resolutions hoping to prevent mistakes. Mistakes are my worst fear. Really though, the worst. I'm that kid that won't do something because I might not be perfect at it or it won't go as perfectly planned as I had hoped. This is unfortunate and mostly results in me being unhappy with where I am in life because I won't just go do what I want to do. 
       
       Come on, Marina. You own enough Nike apparel, and have read 1 Nephi 3:7 enough times to be motivated about this. 

       But on the reals, it's been called to my attention that I am horrendous on follow through. I've got my shot all lined up, knees bent, ball in hands, eye on the prize, but I just can't let go of the ball. If I let go, who knows what's going to happen? I can't come to terms with the possibility of failure. I figure, if I don't let go of the ball, I will never miss the shot. What I'm learning is that if I DO let go, there's not only the possibility that I will make it, and have thousands of screaming fans rush the floor, but there's also the possibility that I'll miss, but have a failure to tuck into my experience file. My pocket of learning. A Batman utility belt for life. 

       I need to learn that failures can be just as rewarding as successes. 

      The fear of risk and failure is not entirely illogical. I think the basis of our progression in life is built off the recognition and the dedication to overcoming these fears. I have a theory that joy in life can be attributed mainly to us doing remarkable things, remarkable in this case referring to any amount of progression. Progression can be anything from learning a language, to mastering the art of Kung Fu, to watching others progress, and using that as motivation to progress yourself. At work, at school, at play. In all times, in all things, and in all places. Progress. The noun and the verb.

     But don't get crazy.

     Challenging yourself is one thing. Spreading yourself too thin just makes for not enough honey on every bite. And that's not fun, or delicious. Which is what life should be. Expand and reach, but don't 18th century style torture yourself.

     Mosiah 4: "And see that all things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order." 

       My train of though just jumped off that band wagon, but anyways, New Years. Don't be afraid to make mistakes. Failures can be good. Utility belts are awesome. Batman is awesome.

D&C 100:12 "Therefore, continue your journey and let your hearts rejoice, for behold, and lo, I am with you even until the end." 

Best regards, 
M