Thursday, September 30, 2010

Split

Ink bleeds from the pen as I strive to capture the truth covered in shadow. The whole of reality stowed behind a veil of human eyes. I live within this hidden reality, dancing in the cold night of summer. Behind my eyelids I peer into the deep chasms of my heart, where blood mixes with soul. What secrets will I find here?

Whispers here tell of mysteries locked in groans and pouring from the soul. These all seeing truths become the masterminds behind what has become my ensnarement, the labyrinth of my eternity. I am lost to myself. I hold a story that cannot be understood. The mind holds the day. Outside of the heart what key can unlock the mind? No key exists for unlocking the heart, held by such things the world has only felt. I am free inside of a prison. Who saw fit to design a prison in which our only freedom comes in what binds us to shadow?

Fear, fear, fear, the world I know, knowing out of fear. The soul screams and tries to tear itself from the moment of time. Time, my captor, the holder of truths undiscoverable and reasoning unreachable. What is and what has been becomes mixed in the swirl of existence.

The eyelid rises as a tear falls, cracking the mask and revealing the pure eyes behind. A strange smile of beauty seen for a moment unchanging. Truth lies somewhere hidden in this moment. My soul screams once more and splits itself from that shadow within, hiding me. I turn from that past as from the ephemeral fear itself. Knowing now, knowing out of truth, I capture the reality in each stroke of my pen. Every movement becomes my own movement, each with a purpose. I am standing beneath a light in a dark night. Here I can clearly see the secret, hidden from me. I am my secret.
Freedom from a prison becomes the proof that the prison cannot be my home. But I blink again. I look out to the dark unknowable forces in this moment and my intimate companion, fear, turns toward me and nods his head. Music floats over to me and settles on top of the troubled world offering a blanket of reality and a hope for meaning, each note a living color to fill a day with peace. I am left to try to understand the meaning of the time and place I am in.

Fifteen lines with fifteen sounds bend my mind.

Unspoken mysteries are whispering in the evening’s breeze.
What cannot be removed is taken from the heat’s deepest rooms.
Meddling spirits open and close doors out of time with the goal.
This road is traveled many times but no foot sets upon it.
Burning winter nights open the eyes of sleeping angels here.
Embracers of dark thoughts travel light on idle nights in pairs.
Darker hued truths are found after sunset with ink stained bruises.
Certainty is the companion of crazy peoples’ journeys.
The singer of songs has to live the lyrics before sleep comes.
Purity is filled with truth and
drinking it sustains the free.
Happiness is outside of time but limited by the mind.
Walking closer to the mountain trail stirs peace into the soul.
Music takes us higher than the
memories of tomorrow.
One wish would take me home where I can live and know my own self.
Falling short to rise again is the grace of a fire’s name.








Photo by Matthew Smith

Written in February of 2009

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Paradox



We live in what C.S. Lewis once referred to as the "shadowlands," an evanescent vapor by which we are separated from reality, not by distance or time, but by perception itself. It should not shock us to realize that what we perceive is in fact not reality. Reality is, after all, relative to one's own experiences.

Take the value of "awareness" for example: one might very well be aware of one's computer and keyboard as they read this, but at that moment it is physically impossible to aware of one's self in a third person sense. Indeed, even when looking at one's self in the mirror it is impossible to separate one's self from one's own person and be aware of one's self as another person. In this sense, one is not a part of one's own reality but merely the one who perceives that reality to be what it is. Is it possible to be real to yourself?

There is, and it should be rightly recognized as related to this concept of reality, a practice that comes from Eastern religions of "self realization." The act of, through mediation and ritual, separating yourself from yourself in order to be aware of yourself in just the way I said was impossible. According to the Buddhist tradition, Siddhartha Gotama was one of the first to do just this and reach what is referred to in Buddhism as "enlightenment." So if Siddhartha was able to see himself through this eye of the universe, is it possible for others? That is, of course, the reason for the continuation of Buddhism, and, if I am not mistaken, there have been several Buddhas since Siddhartha. Several who have achieved rising to that "Perfect Being."

I asked a Buddhist monk once about the energy that all Buddhists sought through mediation, the link that holds the universe together and through which the path to enlightenment is found. I asked her if it was alive. She responded, "Oh, absolutely! In some ways it's more alive than anything else." I sat down with a great feeling of triumph in my heart because a monk from another religion had recognized the undeniable force of life which indeed does hold this universe together. My feeling of triumph soon darkened to a great sadness, however. She was so close to the reality of the matter, and I wonder how close the Buddha must have been.

The following is a paragraph from the Stanford Dictionary of Philosophy's article titled "Emotions of the Christian Tradition" edited by Robert Roberts and first published Feb. 1, 2006

"-In the opening chapter of Civilization and Its Discontents, Sigmund Freud considers a proposal of his friend Romain Rolland, that the “fons et origo” of religious needs, “the source of the religious energy which is seized upon by the various Churches and religious systems,” is an “oceanic” feeling, a feeling which Rolland calls “a sensation of ‘eternity’, a feeling as of something limitless, unbounded” (p. 11). It is “a feeling of an indissoluble bond, of being one with the external world as a whole” (p. 12). Freud himself thinks that this feeling (which he cannot find in himself) is probably a vestige of infantile consciousness prior to the time when the infant begins to distinguish himself from his human and non-human environment; and he thinks that the oceanic feeling does not involve a strong enough need to be the source of all religious energy. That is, a person feeling the emotion has a sense of being continuous with the rest of the universe, but does not so much feel a drive toward something, as does, for example, Saint Augustine in feeling a restlessness which only a love for God can quiet (Augustine, Confessions, Book One, Chapter One). By contrast, the infant's need for protection in a dangerous and uncertain world, which continues into adulthood “permanently sustained by fear of the superior power of Fate” (p. 20), is strong enough to explain religion as a wish-fulfilling projection (illusion) of a divine Father who is both protective and demanding.-"

I find it fascinating that Freud would so quickly call this sort of faith in something superior such as a divine Father childish, or in his words "infantile." What's more, I am not in the least bit offended. After all it was Christ himself, and not Freud, who coined the term "faith like a little child."

In The Everlasting Man G.K. Chesterton says this concerning philosophers, "They cannot believe that religion is really not a pattern but a picture. Still less can they believe that it is a picture of something that really exists outside our minds." (Ch.6, p.136) There is something so illogical about this undeniable force that ties together all the universe that it is quite childish, and yet its truth is so absolute that it is found around the world by those who search for reality beyond what's "real."

In the words of the Apostle Paul, which I believe:
"-For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.
For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, "The righteous shall live by faith."
For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth.
For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them.
For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.
For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened.
Claiming to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and creeping things.
Therefore God gave them up in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, to the dishonoring of their bodies among themselves, because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen.-" (Paul's epistle to the Romans, chapter 1, verses 16-25, ESV)

Through the veil of this world, or rather in it like some beautiful paradox one might expect from the Triune God, we can see reality. His reality, true reality, is clearly perceived in the things that He created. Perhaps that is why we feel a sense of eternity when we look at the stars, or wish to see ourselves and the world through God's eyes. Perhaps that is why beauty can move us to tears and love is able to touch our souls. Perhaps we all just need to look, not within to realize ourselves, and not up to realize ourselves, but around to realize Him. Then we will be able to see ourselves for who we are. This is my Reality.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

The Real Me

I am Zachary Ryan Seven Sanchez, but that's just my name. At nineteen you wouldn't think my life could be all that complicated, but anyone who tries define themselves is suddenly faced with the daunting task of figuring out what it means to be you. Is it my experiences that make me? My roots? Something else?

Well let me say simply that I am a child of God, and that is the only definition that ever need be placed on me and my life. Though, I could also say I'm Scotch-Mexican American with British, Italian, Hispanic, and Jewish ancestry. I could say I'm a Christian, a Republican, a Moderate-Conservative, a College Student, and whatever other labels sociologists would place on me. I could tell you I'm a Poet, a Preacher, a Reader, a Writer, and a Blogger. I could tell you I've gone skiing, snowboarding, mountain biking, backpacking, rock climbing, swimming, jet skiing, and running. I could tell you I've been engaged and broke up and that I never kissed anyone all through high school. I could tell you I have a best friend named Zeb, six brothers and sisters, and nine nephews and nieces. I could tell you I work at a Walmart at night and go to school at CNM during the day. I could tell you anything I'd like to about me and while it'd all be true it wouldn't get to the true me.

The only thing that truly holds meaning in this life is love. That's not a cliche, or a romantic notion; it's the gritty truth. Have you ever wondered what it is that sets people apart from the rest of the world? It's love: true love. Not the familial affection that your dog shows you when you walk in the door, or even the physical affection of someone taking your hand and pulling you close. It's not even the brotherly affection shown when your good friend helps you get back on your feet after a hard time, or when they hold you up through that hard time. True love knows no bounds and indeed lives beyond condition. God is love. This is a simple truth that we've been handed down for thousands of years, and yet we don't understand what this means for us. When God breathed his Spirit into us to bring us to life he gave human kind the one thing that makes us in His image: love. It is love that makes your soul feel full and the lack of love that makes your soul starve for life.

So that is who I am: one loved by God. And if there is anything else that anyone would use to define me, let them do so knowing that a meaningless definition holds no weight to that which holds all meaning. I am Zachary Ryan Seven Sanchez, but that's just my name. Who I am is in the fullness of Christ. This is my Reality.