Personalities Encapsulated

So, I never really knew how much I honestly was my own person, ultimately defined by my stuff and ideas, until living in residence when myself and everyone of my floormates is confined to a single room to hold all our possessions of past lives.
It is such a concentrated expression of the person that it helps define who we have been, what we value, and what we could potentially become. Of course we buy more things and remove others; but in their addition, or absense, it is also an expression of who we are and what we value.
For example, my room has a wall of CD covers reflecting a variety of musical interests. Some people like the design/idea, and others appreciate the content of the CD covers. It is a conversation starter to have your whole life plastered against four small walls.
I always value insight into other people's rooms as well: if someone has very little on their walls it often means they are more focused on schoolwork than decorating, though that is not a problem. Others though, spend a meticulous amoutn of time perfecting the arrangement of the posters and furniture in their room (myself included).
IT is an example of how we value and create a place. A place in a personal sense, holding much meaning for the creator, and a perfect example to onlookers of the values of the perosn whom you are in their place. (Thank you GENV...)

I care too much. These are some thoughts.

I care too much about the planet to forget about it. I don’t want to focus on something so trivial as psychology and the minds of people who destroy the planet.

I care about people, but I think I must care about the ethereal future people more than I care about the people now.

I can be something to this world, but will I be able to be something to God as well? Do I have to be directly responsive to God’s desires? Can I live my life passionately, and that will be enough? How do I know when it is God’s desire for me? What signs do I have to look for? How do I become self-sacrificing as opposed to self-supporting?

I want to have a powerful and permanent outlet for my ideas; I want to effectively share my ideas with others. I want to know what these ideas are.

I want support from the people around me, though I want my honest support for them to be noticed, respected and utilized. I want to share ideas with those around me, but I don’t know how. I want to spread the idea of local reliance, and slow living; of appreciation of the simpler things, of art, geography and culture. I want to emphasize the beauty of this planet in a way that gets people thinking, and in absolute awe.

I want to have a disposition which draws people and keeps them in. I want to be able to enjoy life in a way which is respectful to people and to my God. I want other people to question and appreciate my ideas because I will appreciate and question theirs. I want to be involved in discussion, with understanding that we are not all the same, and we all do not enjoy the same topics, nor do we all care passionately about the same things. I want, though, to be able to live in a world where we can be open and share these ideas with each other.

I want to be a part of a group of people who cares deeply for the environment around us; to live with respect in Creation at all times. To go about our days with personal, spiritual and respectful desires; (“And I think to myself: What a wonderful world!”). I care deeply about conserving our own consumption to ensure we do not become greedy. I want to leave enough for future generations, though I cannot honestly imagine how many generations are left.

I want to be interesting and interested. I am interested, though to become interesting I need to expand and develop these fascinations. I need to gain knowledge, not simply appreciate the honesty or dishonesty of statements. I need to become a citizen, not a spectator. Living is not a spectator sport. We must cease simply existing, and take on living as a hobby. We must make it a part of ourselves to relish (and mustard?) in the simple things, and the immensely difficult things which we are so passionate about. I hear philosophy emerging about appreciating the simple things of life, to take time away from our busy life and relax; though what good does that do in the long run. Don’t relax; but do something enjoyable that isn’t your day job. Become a person of contribution and of appreciation.

How do we do these things in a world so focused on the economy? How do we maintain and develop ourselves in a world so focused on globalization? However, how do we even manage to develop ourselves without knowing all there is to know of the outside world? It is required to know and appreciate all characteristics of the world to be respected. It is of vast and immense importance to be who the world and/or God wants you to be. We have to conform to so many restrictions, and in some ways, yes, it makes us better.

Though is it always for the best? What are the ultimate consequences of this discovery? How should we spend our time? Reading a book or acting on it? Playing a game or conversing? Eating or fasting? Relaxing or protesting? Becoming or refusing to conform? Is it better to complain or remain silent? Should we accept or refuse to remain where ever we are?

I know we're all too busy trying to get by, but shouldn't we have something bigger that we care about immensely? I think even in times when it seems to difficult to become anything different, that we should take that time to learn why we are struggling and after reflecting on it, become it. The easiest things are usually not the most worthwhile. If they seem worthwhile for our selfish being, they usually exclude the rest of the world.

...This is me, deciding on a major.

>Untitled<

Sure. Life is Poetry.

It's the poetry that tears
every cell of your body
in two.

It holds us under command
like a yoke around our neck,
the whole world our plowing
field.

It is the waterfall of
a great abundance; this
abundance which paralyzes and
drowns us.

It is a romance
so brave and fearless,
a matador and his bull.

Romance and fantasy
create our reality,
a veracity we'd
rather know.

Facts kill romanticism,
and romanticism kills the facts.

Both create life,
both take it away.

Sure. Life is poetry.

-Judi; October 3rd. 2008.

Frozen No More, Confused? Yes.

So, all this week since I returned from PEI I've been frozen to the bone in my dorm room. I thought it was faulty heating. I thought it was because I foolishly left my window open one 'nice' afternoon. I thought it was because I am still wearing summer clothes and pretending it is 30 degrees with bright shining sunshine.

All of this may be true. But I feel there is some further connection. There is a deeper meaning.

Here's the story:
Today I was lazy. I had all day to be throughly productive. I was finished classes at 10 Am. I was however quite busy up until 4:30. All of a sudden my energy level fell, and I had no motivation to do anything. I stuck myself at my computer and essentially did nothing. Not even Facebook was amusing. For 3 hours I felt paralyzed. The only downside to this paralysis is that there was a heavily present cloud of numbness. It felt like a toe-dipping into the deepest state of loneliness.

Chatted with Teresa on FbCh. Hovered and became further discontented with the extensive possibilities of the Internet. Decided if I was going to be lazy I might as well.....not be. So I just got up and went to the gym. I think Teresa's motivation helped. She had to leave so she could go to the gym. Simple enough. Why don't I do that too?
So I did. I grabbed my workout clothes and booked 'er to the campus gym. I mainly booked 'er becuase it IS postively frigid after 6 pm here. Once I got there I knew why I was there. To prove to myself that I was not the laziest bugger there and that I needed to being my process of self renewal, all to build a healthy level of self-consciousness.
I listened to music, did a few machines and then (kept gym clothes on) and left. I felt so much better on the walk back, and the air didn't even seem that cold this time around.
A feeling of reassurance and renewed faith in myself and my endurance was what I felt when I walked, feeling the bear of the music and the ground beneath my feet. (I always think I am totally grounded and actually to an extent that it turns egotistical. I'm sorry to anyone whom I offended in the past, and whomever I may offend in the future.)
Anyways, when I rounded the chapel, listening to "Opposite Way" by Leeland, There was such a strong compelling urge to stop that I couldn't move forward; I do believe there was some hand of God in this. (this was not an 'other-worldly' force, but my thought process was stopped, and all I could think of was how I hadn't been to church in over a week, and how I purposely missed vespers this week, and how I wanted nothing to be connected to God again.
I couldn't quite find enough human respect in myself to come to a complete stop, or to sit on the chapel step, or even to enter the open building; however I did manage to pull myself around and pace around the entrance doors. I quickly paused to say a foolish, aloof dedication to get the feeling off my heart, however this wasn't good enough. At this moment I went to take a drink of water and the adjuster thing on top had been closed. It was probably me who was playing with it while walking. However this was a distinct enough sign for me to pick up that I had not properly acnowledged God. This time I stopped.
I removed the earbuds form my ears and I stood. Not for very long, but I stood. I put my body out of action and committed my mind and soul fully. This would not be a swift kiss to the sky, this was a calming of the fury within me. I heard the organ in the church. I saw lights flicker in the chapel ceiling and the stained glass shimmered in Oh! so! many ways.
I believe this trip to the gym was a long time coming, yet it came at the right time, because I was in such a deperate state. Nothing felt comfortable since last week. Missing two opportunities of confession, worship and dedication ruined my week. Luckily I was perceptive of a lovely opportunity to wipe my slate clean.
I discovered this week that my expectations are set far too high. I expect people to approach me with warm hearts and kind greetings at a table in the Meal Hall. I expect the conversation to happen around me, yet I who contributes nothing will be held up in the same respect as them. I expect sympathy and constant attention. I am a conditioned only child.
I expect the cutest guy to discover me as soon as I discover him. I expect my intellect (obviously superb) to grant me everything. I expect the best in myself. I respect the inferior mistakes in others. God, I am a horrible person.
I expected the music I quietly become absorbed in while sitting in my dorm room to project the "real me" to everyone who walks the halls. I now know better. It doesn't matter what music I play, unless I turn it up really loud. No one will respond to the music choices I have because everyone has the same music choices, and my music isn't obscure enough to attract THAT crowd.
I really hope this university adventure continues to be exciting. I hope more though, that it becomes a interpersonal discovery, not a solely personal adventure for four years. I really do love people. I'm just a geek that's all.

-Judi
P.S. I honestly do love You, and I wish I could meet You.
P.P.S. This has been the circles of Judi's mind. Thank you for visiting.

Cellos and Guitars

Here's a poem which I wrote on the bus one early morning in Greece:

While cellos and guitars play and serenade,
I pretend you're mine.
On each roll and slide your heart
comes to mind.

From Roman buildings to Grecian tombs,
My digital music will serenade me and you.

In a flurry of history and mastery of words
Gently I am reminded of the harp.
The harp which gilded a birthday
celebration
With this harp comes a cello, and
together they sing hope to the people.

Hope comes a bright blue sky; a bright new year; a bright blue cello.

Davita might name Blue differently. To her
It is an instrument of individuality which one must use to strum.
Yet still, this bright hope is diversity.

Though our bodies live under rubble,
and stone,

Hope in life comes from cellos and guitars.

-Judi

Long Time...

So, it seems I suck at keeping in touch. This is the second piece I've written with this title.
Since October (the last post...apparently) I have finished a brutal semester of essay writing and diploma flubbing. However unsuccessfully I may have been on the exams, I finished with marks sooo very close to honors. My High School Diploma came in the mail last week, actually.

Europe was AMAzing, and i really cannot believe I was there. It was 10 days of magic and history, so much that I am still not over the majestic stadiums and monuments which lay scattered among the landscapes of both Italy and Greece. I cannot wait to return to Northern Italy to see Florence, Venice, and Pisa(for the tower). Also, the islands of Greece still call to me. they are the ones with the white and blue buildings. And the great towns on the hillside. That is what I wanted to see the most, but no worries, the appetizers are great there too. (By the way, the food was fantastic in both places!)

To be in a land of such religious and historical significance was nothing short of astounding and breathtaking. That was a trip i will never forget. And that is for more reasons than the scenery, for sure!

I am in art again this semester, and it is a bit different in Art 30. There are less rules and curriculum to follow, but the projects (Masterpiece) are a little bit more intense! Oh well, it is a great amount of fun!...especially with Lindsay.

University is looming, and I could not be more excited, or scared. I really want to live away from the town I've known for 17 years, but I definitely do NOT want to leave! Ally and Teresa and Mom and Dad will miss me, and I'm not sure I'll be able to make it without them!!
Even still, I'll get to spend time with Grammy and the Aunties/Cousins. That'll be good. Really good.

Anyways, I will try to keep up with the posts.
Ta-ta for now.
: )