"The depth of my soul and the depth of Your voice. With words I've tried to find since I have been alive, this whole world stopped when You spoke." - Flyleaf 'Bittersweet'
We took a day trip to Bologna last Saturday and I have to be honest, the only thing I was expecting out of the city was delicious food. I did little research before leaving of any important historical monuments. Only expecting good pasta, and completely unaware that I would leave with something much more everlasting, significant, and gratifying. Was the food all I hoped it would be? Yes. But the churches were the highlight of my day.
Bologna is small like Florence in the sense that you can walk for 20 minutes and be on the total opposite side of the city. However, within this space you will find tons of towers, monuments, squares, and obviously, churches. The first one we visited was the Basilica of San Petronio, located in the Piazza Maggiore. It is the 5th largest church in the world and my absolute favorite. The outside facade is blank, brown, and unfinished. You know that old saying 'never judge a book by it's cover'? Listen to it, because the inside was like nothing I have ever seen.
I noticed throughout the day a few things. The size, detail, and history of these churches are astonishing and completely baffle my mind. Modern churches built today in the states look like Lego houses compared to these structures. What does this mean though, because our culture and society certainly has not digressed since these times? The size of these buildings blatantly show how important religion used to be. That space in people's lives that once was so full is now empty. Every church gave me a different feeling. At the Basilica of San Petronio I felt awe and mystery but more so, unsettled. I walked around to every section with curiosity and alertness. It was like God wanted me to know something, to learn something, but I did not know. Every detail, every painting must have such purpose, such meaning. But what is it? What did these artists want to tell the world?
The next church was many of my roommate's favorite. To me, it was dark, cold, and desolate. I could not feel anything from it, not even when I tried to relax and take it all in.
As night greeted us, the cold weather froze us, and the rain poured on us, we made our way to the final church. The Basilica di San Francesco. However, after peering in, we saw that the church was in the middle of mass. Quickly and nonchalantly changing plans, we decided to leave, meander for a bit, browse in a few shops and kill some time before making our way back to the train station. A little bit later we noticed people exiting and decided to go back in and check it out. I also loved this church. In the simplest way, it felt alive. I know this seems impossible because religion is so un-materialistic. I mean we have bibles and people who you could argue give it actual substance, but it is, for the most part, completely bare. All we have is our beliefs. It was crazy how I felt sitting in that church. People were leaving but it is like God was there, summoned by the prayers and still around, listening. Or maybe He was leaving and all I could feel was a trace. Sitting on the cold, solid bench I felt a surge of tingles; as if little pin-pricks were touching my body, exciting the cells of my skin and stimulating the nerve endings connecting to my spinal cord. He was waiting for me to say something. Maybe He had been all day.
The second I began praying, the most basic and simplest of prayers: "watch over my family and friends", "thank you for blessing me with this beautiful life", it was like the flood gates were opened. Breaking the barriers of concrete around my heart and allowing an intensity of emotions to pour into my soul. In the midst of this, my insides ignited with fire and warmth. It took less than a second and I could have started to cry right there. I could feel my eyebrows squeeze, my body stiffen, and my throat close tight. It began to ache, painful and sore as I fought back against my body's natural tendency to burst into tears.
It is amazing when you feel God, but it is also terrifying. I'm scared of this exposure, this openness. I cannot let go of this control of myself, but I want to. I want to believe He is real and when I don't some days I feel hollow. This was the third time in my life where I kenw; with a pristine and confident clarity that God is real. I do not know which religion to follow, what scripts are right and which are wrong. But none of that matters to me. If you can sense a God in your life be grateful and let Him in. The rest I am sure are just minor details of a greater masterpiece.
"I believe, what if I believe You now. Could it ever change this heart? Forgive me, believe me, please come back to life. Come back to my life." - Flyleaf 'Circle"
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
An appreciation of Eden
February 5th, 2010
"Did perpetual happiness in the Garden of Eden maybe get so boring that eating the apple was justified?"
Almost a full month in Italy, I have experienced a whirlwind of feelings, thoughts and desires. I have been thinking a lot about this quote. When I first arrived in Firenze, I was tired and my mind was jumbled. So far away from home, in a place so new to me with people I did not know, I could not help but feel I was in this altered state. Not so much like a dream and being out of touch with reality, but rather that my head was clouded by unfamiliarity. I walked the streets in an aimless, dissociative trance. As I wandered with my head towards the sky, I found myself stopping every two seconds to snap a picture, or stare in awe at a church. This is a fantasy world, consistent of total freedom; from our labels, home, our responsibility. Go to clubs, and drink like you would at home because there are no longer age restrictions. Are there any restrictions at all? You find yourself spending the euro like it is nothing at all. This new form of currency has as much meaning and value as monopoly money.
Oblivious to the true "being" of the city yet, we found ourselves purchasing postcards and sending them home to our loved ones, still maintaing some sense of the established mores and expectations. It is funny how we send these cards home, enhancing the paradise-like belief and providing a general, unrealistic symbol for the city. We have taken a bite out of the apple. Enjoying every moment in this freedom high, doing exactly what we crave at home without any care. Maybe we were in paradise at home and did not realize it. Maybe it is paradise here and we had not realized it yet?
I have been given the opportunity of a lifetime to experience Italy; the culture, the people, a place so amazing. Yet when given the freedom to do whatever I want, do some things otherwise admonished, I may have overlooked parts of Firenze that make it truly Italian Firenze, not American Firenze.
It was all an illusion of the mind. This "apple" it is. After a few weeks the drunk American-like bar scene has gotten old. We desire something more. Like any drug, even after we get the initial high off something we are not satisfied. We find ourselves searching for something different to give us that feeling again. At the Cavalli Club (owner Roberto Cavalli, fashion designer), I very soberly regarded the people. In sober reality, it was not fun. People were shoving into each other, hot, sweaty, and disgusting; and older creepy Italian men showed persistent interest in barely legal girls. But when I looked around I saw girls who looked as though they were having the time of their life. The forbidden apple clearly was enticing more than just me. It is so weird how this "apple" has distorted our perception of genuine happiness.
Maybe being tempted by the apple is natural and vital. But after getting past this period of enticement there is a new appreciation for "Eden".
Yes, Florence is absolutely amazing, breath-taking, and beautiful. But it is what it is becase of the people who live in it. People have acutal lives here, bills to pay, classes to attend, and children to feed. We tend to think of Italy with a certain, unrealistic stereotype. Life is fabulous, beautiful and problem free. So we come here with this notion but find it fading within a few weeks. Once you begin to appreciate this country for its actual beauty in a less touristy way, you can really say that you love it here. I can now accept the "postcard" image and representation of Italy. It does not symbolize that "apple"' to me as it did once before. The pictures of the churches and buildings are gorgeous and a real picture of Italy and its history. The Italians living here add to that picture and make it real. I love it because I can now understand it as a concrete place; I can feel it as an actual home. I love it here like I love my home in the states, not as a temporary, blissful escape.
As life becomes more habitual I have realized that the "apple" idea of paradise is an illusion that can never last for an extended period of time. Life seems real again, confusing my previous notions. Maybe I was in paradise before and did not know it? Or maybe we just have an inaccurate perception of it. Regardless, I know I am in a pristine paradise now, with a clear, grateful mind, more tuned to the ground and to my thoughts.
The apple, this "honeymoon" stage of the trip, has been eaten. I understand Eden because now, all I feel is real. I feel completely true. There is no escaping, no more blurring of perception... just a new clarity. Florence for what the city really is. Life for what it really is.
"Did perpetual happiness in the Garden of Eden maybe get so boring that eating the apple was justified?"
Almost a full month in Italy, I have experienced a whirlwind of feelings, thoughts and desires. I have been thinking a lot about this quote. When I first arrived in Firenze, I was tired and my mind was jumbled. So far away from home, in a place so new to me with people I did not know, I could not help but feel I was in this altered state. Not so much like a dream and being out of touch with reality, but rather that my head was clouded by unfamiliarity. I walked the streets in an aimless, dissociative trance. As I wandered with my head towards the sky, I found myself stopping every two seconds to snap a picture, or stare in awe at a church. This is a fantasy world, consistent of total freedom; from our labels, home, our responsibility. Go to clubs, and drink like you would at home because there are no longer age restrictions. Are there any restrictions at all? You find yourself spending the euro like it is nothing at all. This new form of currency has as much meaning and value as monopoly money.
Oblivious to the true "being" of the city yet, we found ourselves purchasing postcards and sending them home to our loved ones, still maintaing some sense of the established mores and expectations. It is funny how we send these cards home, enhancing the paradise-like belief and providing a general, unrealistic symbol for the city. We have taken a bite out of the apple. Enjoying every moment in this freedom high, doing exactly what we crave at home without any care. Maybe we were in paradise at home and did not realize it. Maybe it is paradise here and we had not realized it yet?
I have been given the opportunity of a lifetime to experience Italy; the culture, the people, a place so amazing. Yet when given the freedom to do whatever I want, do some things otherwise admonished, I may have overlooked parts of Firenze that make it truly Italian Firenze, not American Firenze.
It was all an illusion of the mind. This "apple" it is. After a few weeks the drunk American-like bar scene has gotten old. We desire something more. Like any drug, even after we get the initial high off something we are not satisfied. We find ourselves searching for something different to give us that feeling again. At the Cavalli Club (owner Roberto Cavalli, fashion designer), I very soberly regarded the people. In sober reality, it was not fun. People were shoving into each other, hot, sweaty, and disgusting; and older creepy Italian men showed persistent interest in barely legal girls. But when I looked around I saw girls who looked as though they were having the time of their life. The forbidden apple clearly was enticing more than just me. It is so weird how this "apple" has distorted our perception of genuine happiness.
Maybe being tempted by the apple is natural and vital. But after getting past this period of enticement there is a new appreciation for "Eden".
Yes, Florence is absolutely amazing, breath-taking, and beautiful. But it is what it is becase of the people who live in it. People have acutal lives here, bills to pay, classes to attend, and children to feed. We tend to think of Italy with a certain, unrealistic stereotype. Life is fabulous, beautiful and problem free. So we come here with this notion but find it fading within a few weeks. Once you begin to appreciate this country for its actual beauty in a less touristy way, you can really say that you love it here. I can now accept the "postcard" image and representation of Italy. It does not symbolize that "apple"' to me as it did once before. The pictures of the churches and buildings are gorgeous and a real picture of Italy and its history. The Italians living here add to that picture and make it real. I love it because I can now understand it as a concrete place; I can feel it as an actual home. I love it here like I love my home in the states, not as a temporary, blissful escape.
As life becomes more habitual I have realized that the "apple" idea of paradise is an illusion that can never last for an extended period of time. Life seems real again, confusing my previous notions. Maybe I was in paradise before and did not know it? Or maybe we just have an inaccurate perception of it. Regardless, I know I am in a pristine paradise now, with a clear, grateful mind, more tuned to the ground and to my thoughts.
The apple, this "honeymoon" stage of the trip, has been eaten. I understand Eden because now, all I feel is real. I feel completely true. There is no escaping, no more blurring of perception... just a new clarity. Florence for what the city really is. Life for what it really is.
Why we travel
February 1, 2010
In class today we discussed the Pico Iyer article "Why We Travel" that we had to read last week. One of his quotes that impacted me the most was when he said, "The most distant shores lie within the person asleep at our side." Although everybody had many different interpretations, this was mine. There is a certain philosophy to travel that has sparked a new feeling of excitement and appreciation in me regarding my trip. Traveling is significant because it wakes up parts of us that are normally asleep. When you travel you are freed of conditions of worth from others and life is, in general, simplified to our basic necessities. In the end, you find yourself alone in a way. Leaving everything behind, but never escaping the self. This unfamiliar and foreign "part" or ourself is never ventured to when we are cradled by familiarity, family and friends at home. Traveling, like reality in general, is totally subjective. There is no set-in-stone experience that everyone will endure while at a certain location. This has lead me to believe that we do not find geographical cures to our problems or geographical answers to the main questions our life proposes. But how is it then that we feel as if we have evolved somehow when we return from abroad? We become familiar with the untraveled parts of ourselves through the act of traveling itself. It is here that we are simplified to the most basic questions we could ask ourselves; who am I? And what is my purpose? Iyer said that we go from "innocents abroad" to "sophisticated travelers." Perhaps it is that travel reduces us to our nakedness and then adds a layer to our soul which is crucial to self-growth, change, and discovery.
In class today we discussed the Pico Iyer article "Why We Travel" that we had to read last week. One of his quotes that impacted me the most was when he said, "The most distant shores lie within the person asleep at our side." Although everybody had many different interpretations, this was mine. There is a certain philosophy to travel that has sparked a new feeling of excitement and appreciation in me regarding my trip. Traveling is significant because it wakes up parts of us that are normally asleep. When you travel you are freed of conditions of worth from others and life is, in general, simplified to our basic necessities. In the end, you find yourself alone in a way. Leaving everything behind, but never escaping the self. This unfamiliar and foreign "part" or ourself is never ventured to when we are cradled by familiarity, family and friends at home. Traveling, like reality in general, is totally subjective. There is no set-in-stone experience that everyone will endure while at a certain location. This has lead me to believe that we do not find geographical cures to our problems or geographical answers to the main questions our life proposes. But how is it then that we feel as if we have evolved somehow when we return from abroad? We become familiar with the untraveled parts of ourselves through the act of traveling itself. It is here that we are simplified to the most basic questions we could ask ourselves; who am I? And what is my purpose? Iyer said that we go from "innocents abroad" to "sophisticated travelers." Perhaps it is that travel reduces us to our nakedness and then adds a layer to our soul which is crucial to self-growth, change, and discovery.
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