Full of Changes (And Surprises)

First of all, my oh my has it been a long time since I’ve written anything in my own free time. A whole lifetime seems to have gone by, and I feel as if I’ve already become an entirely different person and lived the life of a stranger until now. Senior year has a weird way of forcing us into hurrying into adulthood and change. As it has been so long since I’ve written down some of my thoughts, it seems sensible to write about change, as that’s been the prominent theme of my life these past couple of months, and I would say was the theme of 2014 for me. Oh, happy New Year by the way!

Anyways, along with that, I’ve been mulling over this concept known as change for a while. Change is hard to define. For how do you define change without using the word change? The process of things being different? Close enough, apparently the literal definition would be, “the act or instance of making or becoming different.” An interesting notion for sure, one we’re all well acquainted with. However, we all treat change a little bit differently. Some fear change, others embrace it. Few might chase it, while still others run from it. People abhor it, people love and desire it. There are even those who appear to be indifferent towards it. By no means am I able to link the cause for such reactions to anything in particular, I’m no genius. However, it seems logical to assume that the basis for these reactions lies within a person’s temperament and personality, which is also effected by the environment in numerous ways. (Yeah. I took Psychology the beginning of this school year. Hence the simple psychological analysis.) Someone who’s incredibly stubborn is naturally going to hate change, as it is in stubbornness’ definition to be persistent in their position. Meanwhile, someone who is spontaneous seeks out change intensely, even to the point where it can become obsessive. I make this point to emphasize that there are tons and tons of different personalities and people that react to change differently, but usually not in those extremes.

In my case, I’m one who loves change, but I don’t necessarily go and seek it out. If I find a steady pattern or uniform in my day that is satisfactory, I’m more than likely to keep it that way until I’m required to change it. Though, when I am required to change a consistency of mine, I do so with open arms, often times because I realize that I needed the change. As I’ve said before in Supplemental Mentality, I can go a bit crazy if I don’t have some sort of spontaneous event occurring every now and again in my life. I’m exceedingly poor at making plans, and just as bad at sticking with plans I’ve made. So naturally, my life is full of spontaneous change at a moments notice. In a way, I see that life is simply full of change, and it’s unavoidable. Things simply happen, and often times when they do, there’s nothing you can do about it. Plans won’t always work out perfectly. That’s simply a part of life. It’s those larger aspects of our lives that we cling to for stability and comfort. We seek our friends to maintain their consistency and some might not seek out new friends, or seek to increase their relations with their friends, since that would mean a change, either for better or for worse. Others on the other hand, constantly seek new friends, and wish to improve and be closer to the friends they currently have. They’re willing to have change in their life in that aspect of it. I feel as though there are so many different categories of change in our lives, though I suppose they fall into two different main categories. Exterior change, and interior change.

Exterior change is some of those aspects I just described, plans being ruined, sudden events, and fluctuations in relations with people. I feel as though I could go on, but I’ve talked plenty about such matters.

Interior change however, is often a result of the exterior changes in life. For example, in drastic circumstances, someone’s mother gets in a car crash and is fatally wounded. Several days later she dies while this person watches her in the hospital. It’s only natural for this to change the person. Something so sudden and intense is bound to change the attitude, thoughts, and outlook on life of such an individual. A sort of bitterness grows, for the world, for God, for people, anything that can be blamed for such an unfortunate event. If that individual doesn’t let go of that bitterness, it will eat away at their heart and develop such a pessimistic view on life and others that might never have even been remotely there before. Again, such a circumstance isn’t guaranteed to change people for the worse. Humanity is strangely unpredictable.

Though I’ve not had any experience at all like that example, I’m currently in the second semester of my senior year of high school. I became a legal adult last semester, and am finding myself filling my schedule to the absolute maximum, even more so than usual. (I’ve also talked about this before, I’m weird.) For one of the first times in my life, I don’t want things to change. I find myself wishing that I could have another year in high school. Wishing that I could go back and stay a kid forever. If only I could stop aging from now on. As I get closer to graduation, I become more and more reluctant to get that diploma and gown. It means I’m going to have to accept responsibility for everything I do. Things will no longer be easy. My life is going to change more than it ever has before after that moment. For myself, I find it especially frightening, considering I might be the first in my family to actually leave the house for college. I have a chance of going to a University outside of my city, like I’ve always wanted. But all of a sudden, I’m not sure it’s what I want. I can only guess as to whether I’m truly ready for that change.

Anyone familiar with me knows that I’m extremely into music of all kinds, and listen to it continually. As I was contemplating this idea of graduation and life, I decided to listen to some music I used to listen to quite often. One of these artists was John Mayer, who I haven’t listened to in quite a while. As I played through his Continuum album, I came across Stop This Train. I can’t even begin to describe how perfectly this sums up my feelings about senior year. I encourage you to go listen to it, it’s a fantastic song. To give you an idea of the theme of the song, here’s a snippet from it.

“Don’t know how else to say it
I don’t want to see my parents go
One generation’s length away
From fighting life out on my own

Stop this train
I want to get off
And go home again
I can’t take the speed it’s moving in
I know I can’t
But honestly, won’t someone stop this train?

So scared of getting older
I’m only good at being young
So I play the numbers game
To find a way to say that life has just begun”

Life is moving so quickly. I feel as though I might be overcome by it at any moment. I often have a strange sense of being simply overwhelmed by the changes that have occurred in my life, changes I can’t even begin to count. The experiences I’ve had these past years have been plentiful and my life has abounded with adventure.

As I think about all this, it lifts my spirits to think of the many, many adventures left in my life to be had. As they say, one may grow old, but that doesn’t mean one has to grow up. I’ll definitely continue to make the most of every second of my life, even if it looks completely different later in my life than it does now. As long as I continue to seek making a difference in people’s lives, I know I’ll find a way to make life long and full of, well, life.

P.S. OH. Also. I got a haircut as a symbol of the changes that have occurred in my life. Here’s a picture of it! In case you were strangely curious. It’s especially important to me considering I’ve had the same style of hair my whole life until now. Might have also dyed it slightly red, but I don’t really have a good picture of that. Anywho.

Man. My face is a strange one.

Growing older,
Josiah Serravalle.

A Fear of Loss.

First of all, I’d like to preface this post with the fact that I got a job. Throw the confetti, bring out the cake, I actually managed to get a job, I know. Naturally, getting the job has made me think a lot about growing up and the future, so I thought I’d those thoughts with you all.

I think there’s a part of us that naturally contradicts itself. It’s this idea of growing up. Even when I think of the word I’m torn inside. I hate it, but love it. I want it, but I delay it. This is a delicate topic for me, and as I explain myself, I realize I’m going to have to be a bit vulnerable with you all. See, when I think of growing up, it involves a lot of things. Intricate details aside, this includes a job, a car, responsibilities, education, and a whole lot of choices and decisions that are exceedingly and increasingly important. Now. I’m decently okay with this idea of growing up in age and accepting responsibilities, and even though I have a real hard time with choices, I understand that it’s necessary and important. I also get that all this needs to be approached with wisdom, understanding, and maturity. Life isn’t a joke. However, when you talk about growing up in a more personality way, I sort of have this hard time agreeing and finding myself wanting anything to do with it. This idea of maturity I understand does not mean that you become some person you never were, nor that you can’t enjoy life anymore, and that with growing up means maturity. However, I find myself being sort of pushed into this mentality of “Oh, you’re not a kid anymore, stop acting so random and energetic and joyful. That’s simply unacceptable. You need to fit in. Be like everyone else. Be normal.” And that simply is something I refuse to fall into.

Along with that, I struggle a lot with the fact of leaving. When I talk about my future and when I think about it, I really don’t feel like I’m called to stay in my hometown my whole life, or to pursue my career here, but at the same time, every part of me doesn’t want to leave the incredible people I’ve met here who have become my family. Something that I struggle with and have been scarred by is the idea of losing people I care about. It’s therefore become a sort of fear of mine I guess you could say. The thought of leaving, and essentially starting my life completely over by doing so, honestly frightens me. I feel like doing so means I’m going to lose the family I’ve built in the city here. I know that even though they won’t be around, I’m not going to lose them, but there’s more to it than that. It means they won’t be involved in my life since I won’t be with them. Something I realized that’s the worst part about leaving to live somewhere else is the fact that the people from your original living area won’t be able to be involved in your life. Your ups and downs, daily struggles and successes won’t be rejoiced or comforted by those so far away. The future you build there can’t possibly be shared with those people anymore unless you return or they join you. Those late nights where you just hang out, goof off, and act like general goons create such incredible memories that I never want to give up. Experiences I’ve had and continue to have with these people have made my life a joy, and helped me get through some really difficult times in my life. Distance is such a pain, and a destroyer of relationships more often than not. Something I value probably the most in any kind of relationship is the idea of sharing life together. Both parties needs to be able to go through life with the other, like a family does. No matter what. I don’t want to know that if I wake up one morning with a heavy heart, and a craving for a chaotic adventure, that I’ll have to do it alone. The goons I’ve grown with in this city won’t be there with me anymore. Even that though, there’s more to distance than that.

Recently in life, I’ve realized that losing someone doesn’t really necessarily mean cutting yourself off from them, or being separated. There’s something that’s specifically mentally about it. If you think that you’ve lost them, even if they’re around you plenty, then it’s almost just as if they left and moved. There isn’t a physical distance, but there’s a disconnect in your attitudes and conversation. You act differently and sort of close yourself off. You justify your actions, but it’s not really an excuse. It’s entirely your own fault for the way you act around them. There’s this sort of wall one of you puts up. And that creates a distant entirely of itself that can be just as devastating. As soon as that wall breaks down though, it’s as if you finally got to come back home after weeks of being gone. This also, though not as frightening, still terrifies me at times. I can’t imagine being shunned and distanced from those that I hold closest. Losing that person, losing their respect, their attention, their opinions, their words, their ideas, their trust, and just their overall friendship and relationship is devastating to me. If I lose someone in that sense, I’m just as shocked and traumatized as if I moved out of town.

Naturally, both of these things I’m having to confront as I “grow up.” The closer I get to graduating high school, the closer I am to moving and leaving practically everyone I know. The more I get into my job, and face responsibilities and the consequences of my actions, I’m left making choices that I don’t want to make. And as a result, I end up losing people I love through walls as well. Either by mistakes, by not thinking, or by them choosing to leave me, it all brings reality crashing down on me. And eventually, I will have to leave a lot of the people I love, and it’ll probably be the most traumatizing, terrifying experience of my life. But at the same time, it’ll lead to so many new incredible people and opportunities that I would never have been able to meet or experience. And so, I’m simultaneously ecstatic to “grow up,” and also terrified. Either way, I know that it’ll be an incredible experience that will definitely change my life. So here’s to growing up, and to losing as few people as possible. I know that no matter what, the plan for my life will be something I could never imagine, and that it’ll all be wonderful in the end. I’m trusting in God that He’ll guide me through this stage of my life as I grow. And so I continue sharing life with those that I love the most while I still can. And no matter where I go or what happens, those memories will be with me forever. I’ll never forget those that I love.

“Growing up”,

Josiah Serravalle.

The Spirit of Freedom

It’s been awhile. It feels good to be back though. I’ve just had a lot on my mind and a lot to do these past couples days, that’s why I haven’t been writing, but here we go. I’m back.

It’s funny now, being able to look at life and realize that it’s summer. There comes this sort of adventurous spirit that I feel with it. Possibly it’s just me, but when summer comes around, I take the time and freedom I have and just enjoy life with the people I love. It’s wonderful, and some of my favorite and best memories come from these times. But occasionally, there comes times when I sort of get this feeling of being trapped, and I get extremely restless. I begin to want to go places, but since I’m limited by transportation the only way I can go much of anywhere is with other people. And being an introvert, sometimes I really just don’t want to be with people either. I just feel like driving to an open field and laying down to think by myself. (When I get a car and my license, it’ll be so nice for me.) So that places me at a dilemma. I tend to deal with this by going for a walk and just walking wherever my legs take me, but sometimes even that only takes me so far, and it often feels a bit out of place. Usually it doesn’t get too bad, and I manage to get over my introvert-ness and hang out with some of the fantastic people in my life, but I’m finding especially this summer that if I don’t accomplish this, it affects me very poorly.

Being trapped in the same place, or doing the same thing for an entire week kills me on the inside. And so when I don’t get that freedom, I sort of dig down into myself deeper and deeper. I get very thoughtful and self centered. I have trouble paying attention, and I found out recently that I even become sort of a spaz. A sort of depression and loathing comes, where I don’t want to do anything, nor do I want to not do anything. I especially have no interest in being very productive, and being around people for too long sounds like cutting off my oxygen supply. I didn’t think it could really last for a long period of time before, but I find that when stacked with stress and pressure, it simply gets worse. I’m sort of writing this as I figure out how it all works together myself, so bare with me. I don’t entirely understand how it works, however, it’s enough to make me not myself. And it’s enough to literally give myself a fever simply from exhaustion and stress. I know some people that have slept less than I have the past days, and worked way harder than I have, so I really don’t have anything to complain about, and I understand that. I simply can’t help but express the importance of freedom and relaxation I require in my life to operate like I should. Perhaps you or someone you know can relate.

I was given this kind of spirit of freedom as I like to call it, where if I’m locked up too tight, I end up grouchy, short-tempered, lazy, self-centered and upset. That simply is not who I am normally. One of the best ways I found to recover from this is by taking it a step at a time.

First by actually sleeping, so that way I’m not exhausted physically. That’s a very important step, although difficult at times. Secondly, I tend to be in a introverted state, so anything with a large amount of people sounds like my own personal hell and therefore I avoid those situations. Instead, I’ll grab one or two people close to me that I feel extremely comfortable and open with, and get coffee or sit and talk to them for a bit. Even just listening to music with them somewhere more open like a coffee shop or a field or a large auditorium. Sometimes even a car will work, as long as it isn’t a very closed building like a house. Especially my house. Also, I can’t be doing any kind of work unless it’s only at the minor stage of the feeling. It especially helps if I plan it out the day of, making it something new and different sort of. A change in plans I guess. This helps with that feeling of being locked up and lost. Thirdly, I then just let my worries and unnecessary thoughts go. The things I’ve been keeping deep down and either just let them go mentally, or more often times by talking to these people about it. That will generally bring myself back. There’s something about planning a day differently with things that I enjoy the most, it’s an incredibly freeing thing for me. Of course, it doesn’t always work, and if it’s something deep set that I need to let go, the only way I can manage to be free from that is through prayer and by giving it over to Jesus. Then I can be myself once again. He releases the door to my cage once more so I can be free.

Sometimes I kind of just wonder why I was given this sort of spirit of freedom, since it definitely seems more of an annoyance than a benefit. But it’s who I am, and it does have some perks to it. It means that I’m really easily pleased, and I can have to time of my life simply by sitting in a coffee shop with my best friend, or walking through a forest. I enjoy the small things in life, and even though it means I most definitely won’t find myself at an office job or working at some intensive business, it does mean that no matter where I end up, I can easily find ways to relax and take life in. Every person has so many different little things to them. It’s incredible and astounds me whenever I think about it. I’m most definitely not an extrovert who loves parties and huge social gatherings, instead I’d rather be with two people who I’m comfortable and close to. But there are people who would just die to only be with themselves or just one or two people at a time, and have the time of their life with tons of people. We’re all so very different and yet so similar. For me, that’s just how I am, a personal yet close person. And despite it’s downsides, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

In keeping with the tradition of putting some sort of quote, phrase, or work of mine in almost every one of these posts, here’s a snippet of a song I wrote about this Spirit of Freedom.

I want to, be, as free, as the horses that run through the plains.

I want to, feel, the wind beneath my wings, and I, fly a,way.

At times I feel like running away, because the things that I find hope in, others find as strange.

Anyways, I hope you all can relax some this summer and enjoy life. Relax, seek Jesus, and love on some people.

Freely,

Josiah Serravalle.

Striving for Hope

As I start this post, I realize that this topic is going to be more emotional for me than my other ones have been. Or so it seems. So it might not make a whole lot of sense, but here it is anyways. Bare with me here. Partially because hope is something of my main painful traits and yet positive quality. Anyways, might as well jump right into it.

I find it extremely important that as you grow up and mature, an important part of this is figuring out who you are. I don’t mean asking people who you are, or what you’re good at, I mean you looking yourself in the eyes and being able to tell yourself what kind of person you are. Describe to yourself your flaws, your character, your qualities. The things you struggle with and things that you achieve and succeed at. It takes a lot of maturity to be able to confront yourself with all your failures and successes. And just as much maturity to realize who you are. Since I’m constantly trying to become as mature as possible, I try to challenge myself by attempting this. And I don’t always succeed, occasionally I even forget who I am. I get lost. It sounds silly to forget who you are, but it’s so simple and easy to fall into without realizing it. That however, is an entirely different discussion I’ll get into some other time.

I’d also like to note that when I say maturity, I’m not referring to being a lame adult who can’t have fun and always works. I’m referring to the maturity that is becoming a man or woman, accepting responsibilities, and being able to accept your own actions and take the consequences without excuses. Integrity. Good character, the list goes on. Anyways, back to my main point.

In the process of doing this, and through some experiences that I’ve recently gone through and their challenges, I’ve realized that I’m an extremely hopeful person. This is a good thing, and not necessarily a bad thing, however it can be a painful thing. It means that as things happen in life, even in the worst circumstances, I somehow manage to find hope that things are going to get better. Life will move on. Things will progress. And when something is uncertain, I always try to see the best outcome.

So, let me define Hope real quick, completely, from a dictionary.

“Hope – A feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.”

A desire for a certain thing to happen. And assuming we want the best outcome, (even if it is only the best in our eyes, and not truly the best), it’s then a desire for the best thing to happen. We have a phrase for that, one that is pretty much my life. “Well, just gotta hope for the best.” And that’s what I do. You’ll probably hear me say something similar to this a lot if you bring a problem up to me. “Do as much as you can, glorify God, try with all your heart, do your best, then hope for the best.” That has sort of become the motto of my life. No matter how bad things get, and though I almost always think of the worst things that could happen, or how awful something just was, I stop and give myself some time to collect myself, and then tell myself this same phrase. Usually just something similar, not identical to this.  This especially applies when I’m looking forward to something, for example, when getting ready for an AP test. Then I prepare myself, and just let whatever happens, happen. It helps to get me through situations. Afterwords, I go through the things I don’t regret, the things I do, and the good things along with the bad. I re-analyze the situation, paying special attention to things that made it worth it. And because of that, I feel less regret, because I realize whatever it was, it was worth it. Even if things ended horribly, the experience built you. The decisions you made might have been terrible, but because of them you can learn more. I’m not saying do whatever you want, because the experience will shape you and everything is worth it. The consequences can be and are dire, and some things genuinely aren’t worth it, and can ruin your life. These things don’t come without their awful experiences and traumas. You were made for so much more than momentary things and experiences. So don’t make terrible decisions, you’re life doesn’t have to be terrible. Since I tend to make big deals out of small things, I’m especially referring to little things you go through like taking a certain class that you hated but got stuck in. And so that part of this is a good thing.

However, this is also where it becomes a sort of flaw. I say flaw, but I’m not entirely sure one can call it that. Going into a situation, I always instantly see the worst that can happen, but deep inside me, I instantly find hope in it, and latch onto what good might come from it. When things seem hopeless, or are hopeless, I find a sort of hope to keep me from gnawing away at myself. I keep thinking of how things aren’t going to end poorly, and find myself thinking that just maybe something will work out. And so I constantly find myself getting my hopes up for nothing. And it’s the most crushing feeling one can experience. But since it’s a part of me, I just constantly return to that hope. I understand that a majority of people after enough times, simply shut down to hope. And as I reflect on moments in my past, I realize that I used to have more hope before than even now. But as it got crushed, I began to slowly back away from hoping, and removing those thoughts of hope when they try to arise. There’s no way that could happen. I find myself thinking that those positive things are hopeless and pointless, and there’s no reason to hold on to them, because it’s just going to hurt when they fail. Still, at the same time, not hoping can hurt just as much. Without hope, things seem pointless. Without hope, things seem worthless, and all seems lost. Reasons for things get thrown out. And so when I fail to hope, rather than just having a chance of getting hurt and failing, you are guaranteed failure. Sure, some things might surprise you, but the feeling doesn’t pass. Hopelessness latches on. There have been times in my life when I’ve felt hopelessness to it’s fullest. I felt more lost and depressed in those moments than any time my hopes have been let down. So when I re-analyze these moments like I do most of my experiences, and weigh out the different aspects of it, I find hope to be worth it. Hope is worth it. So strive for hope. In fact, though things in this life will destroy our hope, when we put our hope in God, we put it in the one thing that won’t let us be put to shame. As Psalms 25:3 says,

“No one who hopes in you
    will ever be put to shame,
but shame will come on those
    who are treacherous without cause.”

Naturally, I had to end it on a positive note as I somehow managed to string together my thoughts.

Striving for Hope,

Josiah Serravalle

Let’s Talk About Rain.

I’d like to start off by apologizing for the long hiatus. I’ve found myself extremely busy, exhausted, and a bit overwhelmed lately. However, with the end of school right around the corner, things are beginning to become more manageable. I’ve also naturally found myself thinking a whole lot, and so a good list of blog post ideas have come out of that. Starting with this topic of rain.

 

So, what is it about rain? It develops an atmosphere and evokes particular emotions, and is commonly associated with specific themes. Some people hate it, others love it. I personally absolutely love rain, even if I have to stand in it while I wait for the bus, or I have to walk home in it; there’s some sort of satisfaction I receive from watching it or even partaking in it. It’s hard to explain, for I don’t completely understand why I enjoy it so much myself, but I have some ideas why. That’s sort of the point of this post, to actually explain my reasoning and hope it leads you to better understand how I think about things. Who knows, maybe you’ll even think a bit differently about it yourself. It conveniently just so happens to be raining today, so lets dive right in.

First of all, as I mentioned earlier, it develops a sort of special, kind of dreamy atmosphere. The day becomes a bit lackadaisical and relaxed. It brings out a sort of muse within me, which might be simply because I’m a writer, but at the same time it applies to all sorts of other situations. People find themselves wanting to stay home and read a book or watch a movie and relax. I find it to be a especially simple and calm. Like the weather is telling us we need to sit down for a second and calm down, whatever we need to get done will still be there after the rain stops, and the world keeps spinning.

It’s as if the outpouring of the water from the accumulation in the clouds is like each of us. Roaming the world we collect all sorts of weights, baggage, luggage, worries and anxieties. Yet there comes a time when we slow down, and we just can’t keep moving while being so weighed down, so we cast all our accumulations out in the rain. And so as the rain pours down, we sit down in our cozy chairs with a good novel and a cup of coffee as we sip the day away. No need for worries, or anxieties, there’s no work to be done today. The rain will take care of the world outside. For just this moment you can wait and have peace. The world can wait until the rain stops.

Just like this, I constantly find myself having to cast my worries and anxieties at the feet of Jesus to keep myself from going a bit crazy. And he relieves me, reassures me, and gives me the strength to push on, as the clouds disperse and the sun shines once more. This atmosphere and relation I have with the rain from knowing this gives me an appreciation and peace that I can’t entirely explain. It’s relaxing and inspiring at the same time. I feel as though when the rain falls down as a torrential downpour, I can feel my problems and anxieties just fall away. If you haven’t simply stood out in the rain in a long time and peering skywards, I highly encourage you to do it when you can. It’s humbling and awe-inspiring at the same time.

Of course, some people will think of rain as a more depressing event, a more depressing theme. An interruption and interference in their daily life and routine. A bother. A bore. A dull roar against their struggle towards success and accomplishment. Who can bother with getting soaked and having to change when heading to school or a job? Or, a truly saddening occasion coupled together with traumatic events such as funerals, break-ups, and family ruin. This can be true at times, it’s pretty easily seen that the opinion and emotions raised by rain is influenced primarily by the issues surrounding the individual. That makes sense. However, this more upset approach makes sense to me as well. There is truly a somber feel to rain. And the sadness portrayed when we cry is paralleled in the raindrops that fall from the sky. Our raindrop-tears fall from clouds of irises and eyelashes. The outpouring of rain as an emotional onslaught of depression and worry. We can’t help but explode with inward growling and rumbling as we try to hold back our tears, failing miserably. It’s quite a depressing picture, and a lot different from the one I painted earlier of inspiration and peace. But at the same time, that theme of being able to establish an atmosphere of its own remains. In these events, everything else is still placed aside. Your thoughts can’t help but grow and wander, and though they might rain into a more upsetting approach, the thoughts process nonetheless. The world doesn’t matter at this point, you’re caught up in that moment. In the moments following an individual, a memory, a life past. Rain, whether a thunderstorm or a simple overcast drizzle, manages to create its own stage and setting. A theme in itself. And it captures my attention and enthralls me. I find that if I have one of these moments, that I can actually feel more free and at peace simply by standing under the downpour of teardrops, knowing that I’m not the only one that cries as my tears mix with the raindrops. Some things are simply out of your control. Just like the rain can’t be stopped from outpouring.

Naturally, because I can’t have a blog post without a small piece of a poem I wrote, or a quote from a classic, here’s just a tiny scene that I wrote that I feet summed this entire conversation.

 

“As I stood there upon the lush carpet of the earth, staring into the outpouring of the clouds, I involuntarily realized something. I realized that life is not just made of these moments. No. Life IS these moments.”

 

An Outpouring Stranger,

Josiah Serravalle

 

My Infatuation with Dreams

So, generally I’ve talked about things that I’ve observed so far, but this time I feel you all should get to know about me some more. A little one on one, man to man, (or man to women I guess.) If you ever saw the majority of my poems and stories, you’d find a strange prevailing theme of dreams. And that’s because I have a strange infatuation with them. Not just mental goals and desires, but the unconscious world that exists only insides each person’s head. It’s incredible. The more you think about it, the feats are minds can accomplish. The fact that if we close our eyes and our mind creates an entire world while we’re asleep, we can travel it and if we fall and start to crash into the ground, our body literally jerks as a response. A reaction in reality from the fantasy. People that sleep walk and that have a much stronger reaction to their dreams in reality. I think that’s just crazy, brilliant, fantastic, and wonderful. For the longest time, especially when I was a kid (I’m still sort of a kid I suppose, but anyways,) I just didn’t want to even exist in this place we call earth. I didn’t see anything here I really wanted. What I wanted was unaccomplished in reality, and the only place I found them fulfilled and accomplished was in my dreams. And so I dream’t. That was my life. My creations, my world inside my head was my reality. Looking back, the reason I’m who I am comes a lot from those times. The dreams I would have motivated me later in a way that nothing else could. Because the sad thing about dreams is that they fade. They aren’t reality sadly, and so we move on and are told to forget about them. Dreams are made to appear as just a common thing everyone experiences, a silly night time inconvenience that can just be ignored and forgotten. Which is one thing I never wanted to do. I refused to forget my dreams whenever I had a choice. I would attempt to remember every detail, trying to relive the moment. Naturally, you can’t. That’s the tough part about it. But a part of me relives those moments when I write them down. I can feel the air and stone beneath my feet through the words I can place down on a computer screen or a piece of paper. And so I started writing them out. Because if it gave me the slightest indication of the worlds that existed in my dreams, I would do it within in instance.

Now that I’m older, I’m seeing myself have a harder time not only remembering dreams, but having them. Because the world gets so needy, so demanding, that it’s hard to get enough sleep, much less dream while doing it. The world becomes so massive that it demands every space of your mind, during the sleeping and waking minutes of your life. And so I’ve lost some of those dreams. And it’s been extremely traumatizing to me as I see it happen to me. But I know some of it’s necessary, because I’ve got to help everyone that’s here in reality as much as I can. With everything I have, I want to be able to help people, and if I simply slept and lived for my dreams, I wouldn’t be able to help others see their dreams and reach for them. If I could help other’s reach their potential and seek things that are more than the world and its physical pleasures, then it’s worth it, because I might not be dreaming, but my reality has a chance of looking a bit closer to my dream.

Anyways, that’s mostly the reason I’m infatuated with dreams. I’ve also found they can often tell you things about yourself and your life, which naturally makes me interested in them. My imagination has always been a bit rampant and uncontrollable at times, but it’s definitely a good thing. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I consider it a blessing that I’ve been given despite some of the frustrations that come with it. Remember the fact that I hate losing ideas and inspiration? Well I also really don’t like losing dreams and their feel. That sounds weird to say, but honestly when I think about it, each dream I have has some sort of feel to it. Let me give you some examples. So if I had a dream where it was somewhere I knew and had been before, it gives me a very familiar and comfortable feel. Usually I feel like I can accomplish things I normally couldn’t in these. When it’s somewhere that appears to be completely different from reality, so like I’m dreaming of another world kind of thing, I get a very curious feel that often is associated with a massive number of colors and sights to see. Once I could have sworn I even smelled and tasted some food during a feast in my dream, and it was this category of dream. The senses in general are emphasized here. When it’s an extremely peculiar setting, like a staircase set in darkness, or a sort of picture frame setting where I’m looking from above or something, I get a sort of wild, peculiar, important feeling. Like what I’m observing is significant. The colors and sights are the boldest in these settings, often some sort of architecture is set apart in my mind that I find. It’s interesting. Anyways, the whole point of that was to explain that sometimes I can remember a dream, but the feeling, the overall sense the dream gave to me can disappear, which is just as upsetting to me as forgetting a dream. Though, it is the thing that is brought back the strongest when I’m writing my dreams out.

This post has been a bit stranger than most. I guess I like dreams because I can hypothesize and experience them in a very strange way. They’re very mysterious, and I like that. Right, so I’ve made it a bit of a habit to add one of my poems to these, so here’s one about what I just talked about.

Forgetting sucks.

I did it again. I’m so original. Right, the actual one is below, sorry for being difficult.

A dream. The nightly vision from the heart. Not the kind of dream that’s sought after, but a dream that’s been lost after you wake up. A butterfly that escapes your grasp, and no matter how beautiful the animal is, it can’t be caught. Images that won’t ever be seen again. A simple vision. The only thing that can capture our hearts the best, and become manifest in our lives, even though we don’t remember half of them. Dreams. Like a lover who is forced away from us, only to be seen on rare occasions. A varying number of scenes, some with haunting consequences, and others with things we only could wish were real. And so we dream of them. Hoping for the scenes, imagining the picture perfect moments of joy. The time spent with a loved one. Seeing the lost return. Being accepted by the rejector. Dreams make these impossibilities or improbabilities reality. Or, so we think so for the moment. We can almost accept the fact that it’s happening. That if we pinched ourselves, we’d still be in that moment. Pinch. Awaken. Yet time and time again we awaken like this, to cruel reality, a crushing, excruciating pinch that feels more like being slapped. So we can’t handle it. We forget our dreams. They fade in the back of our heads as a memory forgotten. And sometimes, it works. We can get over it. We survive the day and keep moving. Forgetting the pinch. Forgetting the memories we might have had, the things we wish could be, because it just hurts too much. How could it be worth it? A man who lives in his dreams, can’t possibly live in his life. But a dream is the blooming of an idea, a thought. And when we refuse to remember it, we shrivel that thought up in an instant. Dreams are essential. They’re beautiful. They’re a piece of art. We should neither rely on them to live, nor should we rely on our lives to live without them. A beautiful romance between what is real, and what we wish was so. It’s only this thought that stops what we want to be real from actually being real. Obviously, this is not for everything. Flying is not possible without the proper equipment, guaranteed. And such is reality, the gravity that brings us back to earth. So that way we don’t get carried away on the wind that is our dreams.

Hoping you have sweet dreams,

Josiah Serravalle.

Ideas and Inspiration.

First of all: It’s Valentine’s day.

Well. It was when I wrote this. But now it’s kind of not.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s move on.

Yeah this post isn’t related to Valentine’s day in any way, though I do have some specific aspects of love that I want to talk about, I feel like today isn’t the day for it. So I’m going to talk about something else that I’ve been thinking about instead. Ideas, Inspiration, and the fact that I often forget them easily.

So essentially, I found it interesting first of all, that the creation of several great ideas don’t really depend on environments, even though they can be aided by them. For instance, I personally find that I think better and can get more ideas for some of my projects when I’m taking a shower. This may be random, but I’m seeking to provide the reason behind this happening, because that’s just what I do. (I’d like to make the distinction here that I’m talking about focusing and consciously coming up with ideas, and this is different from inspiration, which I’ll explain the difference later.) Though in essence, the environment of the shower isn’t what affects my increased mental productivity. It’s more of the fact that I’m not doing anything that requires a majority of my brain to accomplish, but I’m still keeping my mind occupied. For some reason, if you sit in a bathtub with the water running just to come up with ideas, there’s a difference between this and sitting in your room. And I think that this is more about the number of distractions you face and what you do in these environments than just the environments themselves. When you sit in your room, you legitimately aren’t doing anything, so naturally your brain picks up on the smallest things, making it harder to focus and come up with ideas. If I sat in my room, first of all my eyes would start picking up the minute patterns in the carpet, the messes I need to clean, the stain in my carpet, etc. So first of all I think better when I close my eyes, it decreases the number of distractions my mind creates. Without one of my senses being used, my brain starts to pick up the random sounds that are made all around me. My family talking in the other room, my mother folding laundry and the thump of clothes hitting the bed, the wind and animals managing to reach my ears through my windows, my dog being a complete punk, etc. So without being in complete silence, I naturally find it extremely difficult to think clearly on one subject while all that is running through my head. So essentially if you try that hard, it isn’t very effective. In general, I can’t say this applies to everyone, because everyone does their work, learns, and thinks differently. But I’m speaking from my own perspective. And for me, I put on music, because it keeps my ears distracted so they don’t bother my brain, I either have my eyes focus on a fixed point that keeps me from being bothered or I occasionally close them, and then I start writing. Because if I don’t write things as I come up with them I forget them. And this is why I feel like the shower brings out my ideas the best, because essentially it distracts all your senses enough that your mind is free to romp without restraints. The sweet sounds of the water against the floor keep your ears from really hearing anything else, your appendages are cleaning you, your eyes can only really look at curtains and blank walls, and in this case I think better when I close my eyes, fulfilling the things needed in order for my mind to fully frolic as much as it needs to. The downside is I often end up taking near 30 minute showers. Yeah, it’s bad. I call it the 30 minute power shower, but that doesn’t make my family any happier when they have to wait a whopping 30 minutes to get into the shower. Of course, the one problem with this is I can’t write my ideas down while in the shower. So unfortunately, either because of ADHD, or just poor memory, I forget a lot of my ideas. (I’m not sure if I really have ADHD, though I wouldn’t be surprised if I did. Honestly, sometimes I really wonder.)

This brings me to my number one pet peeve that frustrates me to no end. That is when my ideas get lost in the abyss that is my poor memory. I’m pretty sure my brain is like a giant rain forest with huge trees that reach nearly a hundred feet tall and several feet in diameter. This rain forest of course would make too much sense without some rivers, streams, creeks, sink holes, lakes, and plenty of mines that hide all the things I lost and want the most. It genuinely really aggravates me a lot when I lose a thought, an idea, a character, or even a place that I thought up in my head. I’ll sit there for several moments as it sits on the tip of my tongue, just teasing me at how close it is to being re-discovered, only to fall back into the abyss again. I wrote a poem that describes this experience in the best way I could find.

It sucks.

Oh wait, that’s not my poem. But it still really works. Just kidding, here’s the actual poem.

A story unwinds in your head, a man, a woman, a world unknown and unbeknownst to you. Locked in your head, but unlocked in your imagination. Something triggers in your head like a key. Desperation and curiosity overcome your senses as you push the key into a lock. You turn it, only to stop halfway. Madness. Regret. Something inside of you stops. You grasp at the key. Furling your hand into a fist around the key. Brute strength fails you. The key refuses to turn. Anger explodes from your chest, an innermost monster rages. You shut out your senses, refusing to let go of the key, of the moment, of the world inches away from being unlocked. Then, a sound, a smell, a sight, a person. All of a sudden you let go. A free fall. The moment is lost forever. The key falls between your fingers into oblivion.

Often times I find that a varying of very simple normal things are what brings me out of my creative stupor. As stated in the poem, something as simple as a sound, a smell, a sight or a person can completely interrupt my thoughts and make me lose them completely.

So my favorite book, probably of all times, is The Great Gatsby, (This does correlate to something, so shhhh.) because for one, I love good quote, two I LOVE imagery, and I feel like The Great Gatsby accomplishes this so wonderfully it stuns me at times. The themes behind the book and some other things in it are just brilliant and make me want to read it over and over again. (I like to read a lot of books, so the fact that I say this is my favorite is saying something.) There’s a quote from it that essentially sums up how I feel every time I lose some of my inspiration. I’d like to share it with you guys. (I’ll probably include more Gatsby quotes in my later posts as well, because it’s the best.)

“Through all he said, even through his appalling sentimentality, I was reminded of something–an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that I had heard somewhere a long time ago. For a moment a phrase tried to take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man’s, as though there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But they made no sound, and what I had almost remembered was incommunicable forever.”

Yeah. Brilliant. I forget too many things. Though generally the senses don’t make me lose my thoughts, but my inspiration. Which is different. This post is getting long, but I’m gonna keep going. Alright.

Inspiration is different from what I described in the first paragraph, where I talked about the best ways to be able to put yourself in a thinking state of mind. Inspiration is very dependent on your environment, and what your senses are picking up. I feel like I don’t really ever get inspiration in the shower, but I certainly think more. However, if I sit outside at the park where kids are playing, and I close my eyes just to hear their laughter and open them again to see the kids’ smiles just to understand child like faith and joy, that I would consider inspiration. There’s no other place where you’ll experience exactly what you experienced that moment which gave you certain thoughts or even a revelation. A revelation may be achieved through thought, but can also be uncovered quicker through inspiration. When you sit under the stars and the massive extent of stars draws you into a stupor, you can get inspired. This is quite different from the mental process of creating ideas, which essentially shuts out the senses to make room for more thought. Though, the interesting part is that they can occasionally acquire the same ideas. If you’re taking a shower, and start thinking about how black holes exist and work, and work through a majority of thought processes to reveal a conclusion, you can accomplish the same thing if you stare out into the stars one night, and are hit with inspiration about black holes. However, I feel like there are some things that inspiration can accomplish and cover that thought processes can’t always figure out, though inspiration can always accomplish what thought processes in the shower can. For instance, if you are a physicist studying black holes, and you’re taking a shower and getting ready for work, you’re restrained by the rules you’ve learned and set in your mind from the things you’ve observed, and therefore your thought process is bound to a certain extent. However, when you actually observe something that you’ve seen a hundred times, but suddenly see that it works in such a way that it was like a black hole, you can understand them in a way everyone else bound by their own mind couldn’t figure out. (I’m not really sure where I was going with that example, but whatever, hopefully you get the point.)

Alright, that was long. It’s late, and I should get some sleep.

Hoping you had a lovely Valentine’s Day,

Josiah Serravalle

A Caring Face

As my first post, I thought it relevant to write about something that means a lot to me, even if I’m not always capable of achieving it. That is having a caring look. I know that sounds sort of strange, and maybe even impossible for some people to achieve, but it’s not. It’s a mindset. But anyways, let me share a story about it first.

So for those that don’t know, I’m a dual enrolled student, which means I go to a high school and a college at the same time. It’s pretty fantastic, since you can start getting college credits early, and your classes are free. (Fantastic right?) Anyways, the college I go to is right across from my neighborhood, and so I usually get home from high school and then I walk over to my college classes whenever I have to be there. (I don’t have my license so I can’t drive, that’s a long story for another time.) But today I woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach bug thing, so I didn’t bother going to my high school classes. Unfortunately, college classes aren’t as lenient towards sick people, and my Pre-Calculus class was not one I wanted to miss. So come one thirty I was grabbing my brother’s long board and out the door to my class. I was feeling pretty terrible, and didn’t want to be up to say the least. So I crossed the road and went into class where I managed to stay awake and keep my lunch inside me rather than across the floor. As class ended I got out as soon as possible and headed home. My day so far had been pretty terrible, and I still had homework to do at home which just made me more reluctant to go home. So I sort of meandered across campus, hoping I’d come across someone that would give me a reason to stay on campus for a bit longer. (And give me a reason to stop moving.) I didn’t find anyone I knew, however as I got to the bus stop, I was observing people’s faces more than usual and I started to notice something. First of all, people are almost always locked up in their own worlds. But secondly, when someone is willing to look someone else, a stranger, in the eyes, (and not scowl at them) the feeling you get is uplifting. Now I’m sure that’s not always the case, again that’s if they aren’t scowling or giving you a nasty look, but still. For the majority of the people that looked me in the eyes, I was more open to, and would sometimes even be willing to smile at. In fact, when a lady in a car passed by and was willing to smile at me and look me in the eyes, it made my outlook on my day a bit better. I started to notice the wonderful weather, (In Florida this only happens in random spurts during the winter.), and the sounds around me. Then, as I rode down the sidewalk across the road into the college, a car almost ran into me but I stopped right before he could, but still got in front of him. (I had a stop sign, it was my fault. I’m a bit of an idiot at times.) I was worried he was going to honk at me or be upset, and so I grabbed my board and backed up to where I was. (Also, partly because I’m awkward and had no idea what I was supposed to do, but that’s besides the point.) Surprisingly, the guy in the car laughed and smiled, while looking me in the eyes and told me I could go ahead.

Now that may seem like some of the simplest things ever, but let me tell you, they weren’t to me. That guy came off as an extremely nice man to me, just because of the way he looked at me. The lady appeared as a caring person, a caring face in a sea of wondering souls. Just a simple effort to try and show your apologies and kind intentions in your face and eyes makes a tremendous different, and can make someone’s day, someone like me.

So when you’re walking through a crowd of people, don’t forget to try and be kindly, not just by appearance, but with your heart. We’re called to love people as much as Christ loves them and loves us, and the simplest way we can convey that is with a smile and a look. Those people might not have the prettiest faces, or always be happy, but I feel like all they have to do, all we have to do, is keep in our minds how much good we have in our lives. If we just open up and try and share life with people, with a simple, genuine smile or laugh, it can really impact and change someone’s day or life. It did for me.

Here’s to hoping you have a fantastic day,

Josiah Serravalle