instructions
give up the world;
give up self;
finally, give up god.
find god in rhododendrons and rocks,
passers-by, your cat.
pare your beliefs, your absolutes.
make it simple; make it clean.
no carry-on luggage allowed.
examine all you have
with a loving and critical eye, then
throw away some more.
repeat. repeat.
keep this and only this:
what your heart beats loudly for
what feels heavy and full in your gut.
there will only be one or two
things you will keep,
and they will fit lightly
in your pocket.
~Sheri Hostetler~
i used to be holding on to my christian belief as if i was holding on to a rope dangling above a bunch of crocodiles. my world couldn't possibly exist without that rope, because it was all i'd ever known. it was my way to look at things, and my way to feel protected. my way to be. but then i grew older, just a little bit.
i was thrown into the dazzling jungle of chaos - at age sixteen i went to spend a year abroad all by myself. abroad. no family, no friends. and at home, a very close loved one my age, fighting cancer. on my journey: the many beauties and fairy tales the globe's open space has to reveal, but also the many dark feelings and desperations i was almost torn apart by. and i grew older again, just a little bit.
i got home and found my old world being changed. the faces i eyed - they were not the same. the loved ones i hugged had become a faint shadow of what they had once been. the place i'd once known so well - it became unfamiliar territory. i came home but i didn't. so i grew older, just a little bit.
my home was not my refuge anymore, so i fled from it. i dived into the colorful but oh so troubling night, the long weekends, the never ending ocean of clubs. i found new friends, and a new love, yes, and i found addiction. i went from zero to a hundred, and i stopped to smile. so i grew older once again, just a little bit.
i grew older, and realized, that i didn't want it all. i couldn't take it all. it was too much to bear, and it was not doing any good. all of it. so. step by step i walked myself out of the scene i had jumped into. i carried myself through it, and got away. standing there and looking back, i saw, so many things had turned out to be okay. i came home. and grew older, just a little bit.
through all that time i'd given up. i'd given up on the world, i'd given up on self, and finally, i'd given up on god. but i'm just starting to find god in rhododendrons and rocks, passers-by. i am paring my beliefs and my absolutes. i make it simple, i make it clean. and i'll keep this and only this: what my heart beats loudly for, while growing older. just a little bit.
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