SKY

I sat looking up to the sky.

 It was full of thunderheads and piercing grey, I didn’t think I’d see sunlight coming through until the next day-

 But to my surprise later that day, the sky returned to its familiar shade of blue. A few white, wispy, clouds hung like smoke flowing from a pipe from some hidden artist- I presumed it to be the sun. But I couldn’t see the sun too distinctly, it was quickly making its way down below the treeline’s horizon.

 I turned back from the sky to look at the ground, and it was just as I left it yesterday. Moments later I returned my attention to the above, and, to my shock it wasn’t as I left it moments ago. Its light blue had quickly exploded into vibrant hues of pinks and golden oranges.

 It was as if this deranged artist suddenly had a tantrum of inspiration and in his fit spilt all of his watercolors over the canvas. I went inside, and my curtains were drawn back a bit so I could take in this scene. As I looked away for some moments to a conversation, I looked back to a sky that again, had changed suddenly. This time its majestic chaos had settled down to a deep blue morphing into black. I could see stars one by one appearing, knowing they were always there, but now the light from the sky was dimming, and their light was winning.

But for how quickly the sky changed, nothing in my world had. The ground did not shake, nor did the trees quake, everything was the same, except for the sky itself. Earth’s sky. It was for this reason I wanted to take the entire sky and put it in a locket of mine. In one’s eyes it was blossoming from dusk in vibrant brilliance to the blue. In another’s it was a violent place, where electricity and darkness engulfed the horizon, and yet, in another’s, it was emptiness giving way for some small openings of light that managed to find their way across the universe some time ago. And yet all these eyes saw the same sky. This same sky was with humanity from the very beginning, and flows with our time until the very end. And in each of these stages, it takes on new faces, and yet, its composition, its character, remains unchanging. It’s always predicted to be different.

Be careful of external motivation.

Be careful of external motivation.

Of quotes from greats that went far. What they say is inspiring, yes. But it’s theirs. It was their experience. It was their journey that you will not replicate.

Because…. You. Are. Not. Them.

They didn’t sit around all day trying to come up of an inspirational quote.

The only reason they said it was because it came to them at the spur of the moment. At an interview. Or they were asked to speak. And it’s their understanding of it. But they never sat around trying to come up with an inspirational quote.

It sounds good, yes. But it’s not yours.

And you can repeat a quote.  Use it as your wallpaper. Write it in your notebook. Retweet it, tumblr it, Facebook it.

But it’s not yours.

And that message will lose all meaning once you’ve seen it enough.

It’s not yours. You just liked it when you heard it.

And that’s the problem with external motivation. Once the external source wears off, you lose your motivation.

It’s internal motivation that you need.

Carpe Diem!

You write quotes, with your inner fire!

Amelia

Growing out.

When are we grown? Is it about age or as they call it a “coming of age”? Or perhaps physical growth or a realisation? A realisation that every day I feel grown.

And how do we define this development? A continual process that never stops? Not then, not now, not ever.

I have grown out of my past. For now. But how can I be sure that in the future my mind will not regress and I will be un grown again? Or how do I know that my thoughts are even grown at all and that maybe I am still nothing more “grown” than an innocent or a child?

It comes as a shock when you realise and then accept that you have grown “up” because really it takes some hell of a working out. It is hard to recognise the changes that you yourself possess. The small things you notice about yourself, the change in behaviors, the things you thought were your coping mechanisms ( the bad ones ), this is what shocks you when you realise they are drifting away.

The battles with yourself aren’t worth fighting anymore and the world around you becomes just the world you accept or don’t accept and it is more beautiful for it.

You grow up and you remember your childhood and the time that you were really you. We all get lost along the way and then we grow through growing back again.

The change is constant and every couple of months I look back and it scares me because my level of thought was then (before) so confusing, so immature or just so lost. I was so un independent of control or something was affecting me. We are all so caught up in our situation and it seemed so wrong and I think that was then, this is now. And now I am grown up.

But then I stop. How do I know if I have grown up or whether I am just growing up or out or in or down?

Do we grow in circles or squares or lines? In squiggles, heart shaped boxes or just grow ourselves in to prisons?

I know I am growing out of the problems. Let’s be frank it has taken me enough time! It is like those ten years you keep growing but in the wrong ways and I felt like I would never grow out like those things defined me and just were me and then one day you must just start to grow back in the opposite direction again and I am finally (I think ) better. The anti growth of the anorexia (it still makes me nervous to write it and to admit it) and the fear of being normal (that thing that I have been coping with for so long – yes coping – and dealing – but it was still grown in), the regression of the need for control, the growing out of the desire to be more than something, the growing out of the focusing on the pain, the growing out of thinking this world is just a hell hole, this cell with just no point for anything. The growing out of the desperation to be noticed, the need for attention, the lack of need for the things we thought we didn’t need.

The growing in to love and out of love and then the grown up kind of love. The different kind of love, the love that works. The realisation that that suffering is not the way forward (not that I ever thought it was the way forward just kind of romantic and necessary) but you know what I mean. Realising that happiness and art can combine, the growing in to wanting to be normal, the growing that means opening your eyes and caring and being happy. The growing in to calming the fuck down and getting on with it.

And then trying to understand? The expansion of the mind that isn’t grown enough to even understand growing. Why do we grow? Do things change us or do we change things?

We can’t stop it we just grow. Magic. Or not? Everything grows. Everything living.

Some people say I’m more grown up than my years – but I see myself screaming or playing or just looking at things with wide open eyes and then I feel so un grown. I still need looking after.

And then I feel so old.

Now I am ready. At least for now. To be grown. Up. Up. Up.

I think.
 But not GROWN up.

Inspiration and Motivation

I wanted to write two separate posts entitled “Inspiration” and “Motivation”. I liked the symmetry of the two post titles, but then I started pondering the difference between the two and decided it was best to post my thoughts in a single post so that I could spend some time contrasting the two.

First, inspiration. It’s what causes us to dream bigger, no? We all have goals and deadlines, but inspiration is something beyond a simple goal or deadline. It’s when your dreams color outside the lines, when you set a goal so far beyond what reasonable that the goal seems impossible. Some people are self-inspired; they spontaneously see what others don’t. Others are inspired by inanimate objects; like I get inspired by music a lot to make music. Most of us, though, are inspired by people, usually those we respect or admire.

I think "inspiration" is what causes to dream big. I can’t communicate in words how much some people have inspired me to live happily, I feel that is the biggest inspiration of my life, somethings changed my perspective on what I can already climb and what I will climb in the near future.

So then what is motivation? Well, I think it’s less about which goal you set, and more about how you actually get there. Who knows exactly how, but I was inspired to learn Chemistry. The inspiration clarified the goal, but it’s motivation that’s helping me get there.

For me, I’ve found that I am more motivated when a goal seems impossible. It’s certainly what’s enabled me to follow a bit of my own path in life because the more I veer off trail, the more motivated I am to forge my own way. I’m pointing this out now because I realize I miss learning chemistry a lot, its the part of my life, a reason why I live. Reason why I’m learning this life where it takes me.Its My Inspiration and Motivation.

“I can’t“‘s I can remember from way back in my childhood is “I can’t learn Chemistry”. I just saw it as impossible; I mean, it was essentially the definition of impossible for me as a kid, but something Happened and it became my life..

. I don’t know why I’ve always felt certain things were impossible even though my parents and (private school) teachers always told me “dream bigger” and “you can do anything you set your mind to”. Growing up, for me, has been a process of relearning what’s possible and what’s not. I know anything’s possible; it’s just been a struggle, sometimes, actually turning possibilities into realities.

The good part of this story, and the reason I’m droning on, is that I discovered years ago that I’m way more motivated to stick to a goal when it’s difficult rather than easy. A part of me don't know what exactly is going to help me to stick to it, but my gut passionately, unconditionally "believes".

 I felt like I had a bit of a revelation on the difference between inspiration and motivation, and hopefully my bloviating made some sense.

its little moments that changed my life!

Cheers!
Amelia

Social Networking

I’ve been thinking about the notion of validation in a social media sense. I think we’ve grown so accustomed to people “liking” and “following” and commenting on what we put out in the great int3rw3bz, that we perceive this behavior to validate our existence in a way. Like, if no one ever followed us or liked our posts or commented on what we have to say, we get upset and think, “Do I even exist [to these people]?” It seems silly. But it’s curious to think about, isn’t it, that without an audience we have no way of knowing, objectively, that we exist?

Descartes said, “I think, therefore I am,” but even that is wholly subjective, internal.

 So all this energy we expend on making friends, building bridges, reaching out to others, to anyone who will listen - is it all just an attempt to prove our existence to ourselves? because it isn’t enough to know subjectively that we occupy matter and are hence important?

Then it makes sense, fame!

Those who seek attention and get it, the famous people, are the ones who exist the most.

In this perspective, we each are really looking for our 15 minutes of fame, 15 minutes during which we are the most existent people in the world…

Is this why we create families? Why we seem hard wired to find real friends with whom we can cherish our existence in this world?

Mutual validations of existing is possible only through people with whom we have a very close relationship preferably the ones around us and not with the ones elsewhere who just know your name and stupid temporary status of your mind...commenting and liking may seem to you that they really have concern for your soul I don't really think they have, the reason is quite logical.....for an average social network user with just one social network will at-least have 300 friends, and if at most 200 are active, who frequently visit the site they would update their status at least once a day, and a person who goes through all these status  definitely  wont be able to keep in their minds the status of everyone except their loved ones!

It all makes sense now…

 What does it mean now, to know ourselves?
We know us only in the context of everyone else.

Just remember "don't make any one feel inferior about you or hurt you without your own consent".......be strong.....

PS: I wrote this as I got inspired after reading  an article which will not be disclosed here, I don't want to any kind of revoking, this is just my perspective in one angle, though I have different views.There are pros and cons for everything.

I'm literally addicted to FB!

Carpe Diem!

Amelia

CAN U MAKE MUSIC WITH WHAT U HAVE GOT??

Imagine this: A concert violinist is performing a difficult piece in front of a large audience. Suddenly there is a loud snap that reverberates throughout the auditorium. The audience immediately knows that a string has broken and fully expects the concert to be suspended until another string, or instrument, is brought to the musician.

But instead, the violinist composes herself, closes her eyes and then signals the conductor to begin again. The orchestra resumes where they had left off and now the musician plays the music on three strings. In her mind she works out new fingering to compensate for the missing string. A work that few people can play well on four strings, the violinist with the broken string plays on three.

When she finishes, an awesome silence hangs in the room. And then as one, the crowd rises to their feet and cheers wildly. The violinist smiles and wipes perspiration from her brow. When silence returns to the great room, she explains why she continued to play in spite of a broken string. "You know," she says, still breathless, "sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."

We know what she means, don't we? Maybe we've lived most of our lives and we have only a little time left. Can we still make music?

Maybe disease has robbed us of our capacity to work. Can we still make music?

Perhaps a financial loss has left us impoverished. Can we still make music?

Or maybe a meaningful relationship has ended and we feel alone in the world.Can we still make music?

There will come a time when we all experience loss. Like the violinist, will we find the courage to discover just how much music we can still make with what we have left? How much good we can still do? How much joy we can still share? For I'm convinced that the world, more than ever, needs the music only you can make.

And if it takes extra courage to make the music, many will applaud your effort.For some people have lost more than others, and these brave souls inspire the rest of us to greater heights.

Just how much music can you make with what you have left?

Happiness

1. Happiness is never constant, and it’s not supposed to be.
2. Failures are temporary situations that teach us necessary lessons.
3. Even if you can’t see it now, you are making progress.
4. How you feel when you’re stressed is not a true measure of reality.
5. You cannot change what you refuse to confront.
6. You are not what happened to be you in the past, rather you are what it taught you.
7. Not getting what you want can be a blessing.
8. Being a ‘work in progress’ is a great state to be in.
9. Nobody else can do it for you.
10.Life is not easy, but it’s worth it.