Rainmaker

Encouragement comes in the strangest forms sometimes.  I went to an Iron Maiden concert last weekend, not really having listened to them much before that, so I was in for more than a few surprises.  Even though much of the time I could not really make out what Bruce Dickenson's high-flying operatic metal vocals were trying to say, there were several songs that stuck out to me in a significantly deeper way than I would have expected from a Maiden show...

Rainmaker
When I was wandering in the desert and was searching for the truth .
I heard a choir of angels calling out my name.
I had the feeling that my life would never be the same again 
I turned my face towards the barren sun.

And I know, of the pain, that you feel the same as me.
And I dream, of the rain, as it falls upon the leaves. 
And the cracks, in our lives, like a cracks upon the ground.
They are sealed, and are now, washed away.

You tell me we can start the rain.
You tell me that we all can change.
You tell me we can find something to wash the tears away.
You tell me we can start the rain.
You tell me that we all can change.
You tell me we can find something to wash the tears.

And I know, of the pain, that you feel the same as me.
And I dream, of the rain, as it falls upon the leaves. 
And the cracks, in the ground, like the cracks are in our lives.
They are sealed, and are now, far away.


I don't like to constantly keep track of how long it has been since the breakup, because it makes the waiting seem like it will be a lot longer because so little chronological time has actually passed.  In reality it has only been 2 months and 15 days since the Greater End of the relationship, but it feels like it may have well been a year, since so much has happened.  Because of the severe disagreement between chronological, standardized time and perceived time, I'm not exactly sure if saying that the 'cracks are sealed and far away' is really true in saying that they are far away, at least on the scale of time.  


Between then and now much has transpired.  I've been afraid to come back to this blog and attempt to make a log of it all because for a long time I doubted my ability to analyze myself correctly.  I no longer have these doubts about my perception, so the only fear that remains is of writing on this blog upon which so much evil has passed from my lips.  But I now realize that I can face what I said before, accept it for what it was, change, and move on to write over it and sever my ties to the foolish boy who let those emotions take full-control of him.  There is a note I would like to write about what I have learned recently about the difference between Honesty and Truthfulness, but I would like to save that for another post.  


I have met with failure many times between that Great Failure and now, and if there is one thing that my scars spell out to remind me, it is to never succumb to failure, neither completely by giving up, nor partially by letting a dark storm cloud of guilt and regret hang over me and drag me so far down in depression that the one failure spreads its venom into other parts of my life that were previously successful.  No longer does failure reign over me.  Confidence is my weapon against it, confidence in myself to be able to pick myself up and walk on, and hope in what I am walking toward: a list of many goals that God and I have worked out with each other to make me grow and mature into the man I want to be and will become/am becoming.  


Reading a ton of new books lately has given my mind a lot more raw material to work with, from which I can produce new thoughts and expand my paradigm or correct the errors that had led me before.  I plan on doing a lot of writing on what I have been learning on here, but it shall be better organized into more smaller posts rather than lumped into this one.  


I finally have started to accomplish one of my many goals (which I may or may not post on here eventually) of learning to do something that is graphically artistic.  I used to be alright at sketching, but that art has been lost to me, probably because I never properly learned how to hold a pen/pencil and the more I type things, the more I unlearn the ability to physically write.  My newfound hobby of crafting stained-glass is something that I can enjoy much more though, and I'm so glad that I found it (more like it was shown to me).  Carefully imagining and drawing out the template, wisely selecting just the right piece of glass, choosing the perfect marbling pattern, color, texture, opacity, quality, age,... scoring its surface and cautiously breaking it into workable pieces, and then my favorite part: slowly grinding it down, repeatedly wearing it away until it becomes the desired shape with smooth curves and straight lines intersecting at just the right angles.  Somewhere in there is a metaphor for the 'sandpaper treatment' that I am getting from life currently: repeating the same weekly pattern over and over again, doing the same jobs in lab and learning a nuance or small perfection with every cycle, making the same sandwich over and over and having it get more delicious every time with every small variation I put on it, throwing the same kicks and techniques in martial arts thousands of times over until it becomes subconscious and I make an immaterial connection with my opponent's structure which I then manipulate to my advantage.  I am now practically learning the importance of small change and slight perfection, and how relieving it is that I do not have to make the chasm-sized leaps from the start to finish of my dreams and goals that I thought I had to before.  I've noticed that since this paradigm shift, I have become a lot less discouraged with myself, and a lot more patient, even if I royally screw up or don't see perfectly constant improvement, because I know it will come if I keep working at it, I have faith and confidence in myself and in God, that He will bring me to perfection in whatever I truly apply my hand to.  And if I do not, then it is no longer a waste in my eyes.  A failure, yes, by sheer definition, but not a waste.


I hesitate to say that I will finish this later, so I will conclude with the last thought, even though there is still much more to be said.  I know it will come out later in other posts, so for now, I bid thee adieu, adieu, adieu...


(also, a note to myself or anyone else reading this: my intent for this blog has changed.  Initially I had only set it so that one person other than myself could read it as another means of communication between us, but I have now opened it up to anyone willing to read, and this shall be another archive of my life for anyone who wishes to learn from or to help me do the same).