A (Very) Short Thought

Hello Readers,

      I love moonlight. So, so much. I love sunlight, but it's hot and leaves so many shadows. There's something almost magical about moonlight and how it reaches into all the cracks and crevices.

        It's a softer, quieter kind of light, smiling down on us. The light for the night travelers, the globe trotters. A quiet guide breaking through the night to illuminate paths for the weary wanderer.

        If moonlight had a sound, I think it would be the sound of a lone wind chime singing out through the wind. Singing a song without words that we all somehow understand.

       If moonlight had a tangible feeling, I think it would be like silk. A wispy soft silk grey shawl. Light and airy.

       If moonlight had a taste, I think it would be like the sea in the air. Barely there, a little salty, and hardly noticeable at all.

       If moonlight had a smell, I think it would be a perfume. A light, rose petal perfume. Not overpowering or filling the room, but there all the same, and just as lovely.

~Rubix

A Conversation With Myself/Christmas Post

Dear Readers,

     Well, I feel like I should write something. I've been lazy, lately. Haven't written a word... No poems, none of my book, not even cruddy fan fictions. I really should be scared. I really should write.

     But...

    I don't waaaaannnnnnnnaaaaaa!

     I can't churn out any awe-inducing poems, write any emotionally charged scenes, can't write a blog post about Christmas, for Durin's sakes. I am a writer who isn't writing. And as one of my favorite quotes says...

"A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity."

  Therefore, I need to write something.

   But what to write?

   I could write a long blog post about the deep meanings in the last season of Doctor Who, I could write about how making a ginger bread house with my family is an old, old tradition and it feels good to have a tradition to hold on to, I could write a poem about Christmas, and it might not even be that corny...

    But there's no magic in my fingers. No spark in my mind. No twinkle in my eye or spring in my step. My feet drag on the floor to my computer and I give it a disinterested look. No, this writer does not want to write. Not at all.

     This writer says "Bah humbug!" and refuses to write a nice inspiring blog post about Christmas that you all could use.

      Honestly, this writer needs to get over herself.

      I need to write.

      Cause that's what I am, isn't it? A writer?

      Ah, but I think another reason why I don't want to write is because I am scared. Scared? Yes, I'm scared.

      I'm scared that whatever I write won't be good enough, because I want to write about Christmas. (Well, we're getting somewhere, at least I want to write now!)

   Christmas? Christmas isn't scary, is it?

    When you want to write about it, it is. Yes, yes it is.

     When you want everyone to know how you feel, how this one day changed your life, not just your life, but everyone ever to live has been changed by this date.

    No pressure, right?

    I'm scared I won't be able to do Christmas justice.

    Actually, I know I won't be able to do it justice.

    Because I can not put into words or thoughts how much Jesus loves me.

     I can't describe this all encompassing feeling of peace and love and joy. And yes, we are celebrating his birth in a little bit, but we also know that this baby who was born on this date died, oh how painfully he died, for a bunch of people who were as disgusting as the filth on the streets he walked upon.

      We celebrate life, joy, and peace. But there is, at least for me, a small foreshadowing feeling. When you realize just how small you are. How unworthy of this little crying baby's life.

      Oh, but you get it anyway. You get to be clean and pure because this little baby, Jesus, Emmanuel, He was born to die.

      For a bunch of low life sinners.

      And no matter what we say or do, we don't deserve that.

      But He doesn't care. He loves us. He loves the filthy humans we are and loves to forgive us.

      It doesn't end. This love, this all encompassing love does not end for us. It is new every day, it does not wane, does not fade, and it loves more than you can believe.

      There is no condemnation in him. While we don't deserve this precious gift, he gives it to us, and he does not want us to blame ourselves, or beat ourselves up. We are human. We make mistakes. We hurt and are hurt.

       And this baby came to love us, and to die for us.

        And that one gift changed my life. Forever.

      And this is why I am not going to write a series of posts about Christmas. I only had one of these in me, only one chance to tell you about this Jesus.

      Because I could write novels and novels and not even scratch the surface of how much he loves me.

      How do you fit that into a blog post? This love and peace and this joy! Oh, this joy. It has made the lame walk, the blind see, the deaf hear, and the stone hearted love. This joy has carried me through this earth, and it will carry me out again.

Glory to God!

~Rubix


 

A Basket of Random Poems

Readers,

    So, first I tried to write a blog post. Then I tried to work on my novel. Then I tried to edit my blog's picture, which just ended up with me wanting to throw my computer out a window. Then back to novel again, then blog post. So I ended up trying to write some poems.

    Which actually went pretty good. So here's some of my efforts, and hopefully you can enjoy them.

A Questionare

They said to describe me in a sentence
I tried to find the right words
They floated out of my brain to pay penitence
To the queens and kings of other worlds.

They told me to describe my feelings
That was easy as telling a blind man about the color blue
Or a deaf man, the sound of words reeling
My emotions run deep and bright, well known to precious few.

They told me to write my heart on a page.
I filled up novels and still wasn’t done with my goal.
So many things I want to say, things of pain and joy and of love and rage.
I wrote until I had no paper, so I wrote on my walls in dark black coal

They told me to sum up my existence
What I did with my time on this earth
I stared at them like they spouted nonsense
I can not tell all the days, all the time, all for what it’s really worth.

They told me to tell what I want in the future
I shook my head dumbly, too frightened to speak
What I want is not material, not a house or computer

What I want is a feeling, to sow good that I will reap.

A Detour In My Mind

They dance along the paper, running through my head

Words read, words heard, the words we leave unsaid

Penned onto my paper, stuck in my brain

Coal black ink runs rampant through the lanes

Of my mind.

Singing through the air, tugging heartstrings to the beat

Grabbing my arm and taking me far away from the reality of neat

Wild colors jumping, and beautiful messes running by the lake

Ink blots stand up and dance with the snowflakes

In my mind.

The song slows, the pages turn with a mighty roar

The world turns to what it was before

I set off on this odd misadventure

To cities and places I’d never have ventured

But this was in my mind.

But then my heart calms, I don’t feel so wild

I look over to see a mother and child

The night wasn’t so silent, but he was staring at me

And I felt all the love that could ever be

In the quiet manger scene in my mind.

Alright. So, I only had two for you instead of a basket... Oops. Pretend it's a small basket, alright? Comment below with your thoughts!

~Rubix

Lovely Lonely People

Hey Readers,

      Now, to ease your worries before we start this blog post, I want to make a couple things clear. No, I am not depressed. No, I am not mentally unstable. I am not desperately lonely with no friends in the world. I am not angry, tired, or upset at my life.

      I love my life, I love my friends, I am more emotionally stable than a lot of the population of the world. I am not depressed or anxious. I am quite happy with my life, and I love the Lord.

    Alright. Now we may begin.

     I've been noticing lately, a pattern to movies, TV shows, and books that I'm attracted to. I love stories about lonely people. Here, I'll give you a brief overview.

The Search for Wondla: A girl tries to find humanity on a planet that turns out to be much different than it seems. She has two friends, an alien and a robot, to aid her. But they aren't like her. So while she is happy and she loves them, she is really alone on that world. The only remaining human.

BBC's Sherlock: A genius who no one understands, a brilliant lonely guy who everyone labels as a 'psychopath' because they don't get it. And then he meets this guy, John Watson. John becomes his friend, and he sticks by him through everything. When everyone has given up on Sherlock, John is there standing by him and shouting back at them that they're wrong, and that his friend is brilliant.

Harry Potter: Harry doesn't fit in in the human world, as he uses magic, but nor does he fit in the wizardry world, as he is also very, very human. He has two friends who also stick by him through thick and thin. But one's nearly all human, and the other is all wizard.

See the pattern?

And now for my favorite:

Doctor Who: The last of his kind, a Time Lord, the Doctor travels through space and time, saving people and preventing what happened to him happening to others. He takes his human (or alien) companions along for the ride, showing them the stars.

Oh, I love this story so much. Because while a lot of people would become bitter, the Doctor just dives in and saves people. He never hesitates to sacrifice himself for anyone. And as he's immortal, as soon as he says hello to someone, he knows, oh how he knows, that he's going to have to say bye to them.

Does he hole himself up? Never invest in people, never let himself love?

Oh no.

He dives in. He loves people, they love him back. He has best friends, and he falls in love, and he says goodbye. And it hurts. But he does it. Cause he knows it was worth it.

And that has really helped me, I know it sounds weird, to be helped by Doctor Who. But that show has spoke to me, because in some ways, in a lot of ways, I can relate to the Doctor.

The life I lead, I'm always saying hellos, and I'm always saying goodbyes. And I love my life. But it hurts sometimes. You miss people. And you know what? I wouldn't trade it for the world. I travel, not in a blue box, but in airplanes and cars and trains. I've never lived somewhere for more than four years.

I wouldn't trade my life for anyone else's.

Even though it hurts sometimes. And it can get a little lonely.

Because, like the Doctor, I also have companions. I have friends. And I know them better than they know themselves, sometimes. And I know, deep down, that I'll have to say bye one day. Because I move all over. That's what God has called me to do.

And it's okay. It's honestly okay to hurt and have it not be fixed. I wouldn't trade it. It was worth it. People. The right people, that is. Are always worth it.

If you hurt when you say goodbye, that means it meant something. That means it impacted you and changed you and made you better and more whole.

You move on eventually. You miss them, you text them, you talk over the phone, but it won't be the same. And you know what?

That's okay.

Because you'll get a new companion. You'll get new friends. It is okay to move on. You aren't betraying someone or dishonoring their memory by moving on. By making new friends. By being happy.

I am a happy person.

I am an optimist.

I love people. I love where I live. I love where I have lived. And I love where I will live one day.

And you know what? If I have a little ache for those places, those people, that means I lived a life worth living.

I was impacted. I felt. I felt pain and anger and love. That's what I want to be able to say when I die.

When I die, I want to be able to smile and say that over the course of my life, that I really lived. That I felt. That I made my God proud. That I made my parents proud. That I lifted up my siblings, I taught my children. That I loved my husband and my friends were close. I want to be able to say that.

What's a little hurt compared to that?

I know, just like The Doctor, as soon as I say hi to someone, I'll also say bye, I hope that I'll still go forward, that I'll let myself be open and be their friend, and let them be mine back.

Some of you might be rolling your eyes, because yes, I am talking mostly about a science fiction British show.

But it's helped me.

Because I travel. Because I say good bye more than most people ever will. Because I am a deep person and if you become my friend, you get in close and deep. Because I miss people. Because I feel everything deeply. Because I'm cheerful.

I want to be able to smile and say hello, even as I know, that a couple years down the road, I'll be saying goodbye.

That is my goal.

~Rubix

P.S Please read the beginning paragraphs if you feel sorry for me after you read this post. Because I don't. Don't feel sorry for me. I love my life. I love what God's doing in my life, and I love what He's teaching me.

This One Is For That Introvert In The Corner

Dear Readers,

       As you may have noticed (or not) I am intrigued by personality types. Particularly the Meyer's Briggs test. I, myself, am an ENFP (Extroverted Intuitive Feeling Perceiving). My personality type has also been described as the "introverted extrovert" or vice versa. I am in the middle. Basically, when I want to be alone, I want to be alone with other people in the room, and I don't want to have to talk to them.

       Really, it all depends on my mood. But I like people. A lot. Except sometimes when they're idiots. Then I just wonder if I'm part Elf/Time-Lord/Yoda. But enough about that, we were here to talk about introverts.

     Why? You ask.

     Well, I answer, because that's what the title said. It clearly stated we would be talking about introverts. So that's what we're doing. Don't question it. Thank you.

        Most of my friends are introverted, which is interesting, or at least, I think so. Tell you what, if you decide that you think introverts are boring, you can go get a cup of coffee and go read your Reader's Digest magazine. Alright? Comfy? Good. I'm going to continue talking about introverts. Don't bug me anymore. Thanks.

        As I was saying. Most of my friends are introverted. I like them. Some people think they're too quiet. Some people think they have something wrong with them. Some people think they're sad and serious all the time. But I know better.

      They're quiet cause they only talk when something needs to be said. They don't like wasting words. They don't have something wrong with them, they just like to think. And that's their thinking face, just because they aren't smiling all the time doesn't mean they're depressed.

       I also know that they are some of the funnest, craziest people alive. And I am so blessed to have them for my friends.

       When I go to their houses, I don't feel the need to talk 24/7 or do things all the time. They're relaxed and completely fine with reading a book and not talking for 20 minutes at a time, or scrolling through Pinterest, or watching a movie. And it's all good.

       I'm not an awful person if I want to just think for a couple minutes. Or read that magazine. It's perfectly fine by them. Heck, they really wanted to read their magazine too. Not that extroverts are in your face and making you do things every five seconds. Just in general, introverts are a lot more relaxed and fine with minimal conversation.

     And introverts are extremely interesting as well. Like Rubix Cubes. (See what I did there?)

     So the next time you're out somewhere, and you see someone in the corner quietly sitting there, go talk to them. Meet an introvert. They might be scared of you at first, but they're awesome. So go do it. I'll wait.

~Rubix.