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Tuesday, February 7, 2012

There is only up from here

It's been a while since I've used this blog. I always think to myself: I need to blog, I need to capture my thoughts, I need to chronicle what's happening in my life.

When I was a child, I used to write religiously in a journal of sorts; in an odd way, I knew there would be a time when I would want to revisit those puerile thoughts and feel the nostalgia of my youth - and I was right. Those journals lay quietly in a box below my bed, and from time to time, they emerge from their holding place and are carefully unwrapped, touched, opened and eagerly read.

But as I grew older, into a teenager, and as the excitement of life took hold, the excruciating detailing of my (mundane?) life in a personal memoir became less and less important; less and less necessary. I started to write emails, sending them to my friends - emails which had nothing to do with anything, but everything to do with who I was, who I was becoming. There were replies, which provoked replies, but the truth is, the emails were never meant specifically for any person. I wanted an audience for my thoughts: as facetious, narcissistic and mad as they may have been. I wanted someone - anyone - to understand.

But again, as I grow older, into a man, and the excitement of life continues to take hold, the sometimes painful detailing of my (thrilling?) life becomes more and more important; more and more necessary - for my own, personal reflection. I tell myself I would write in this blog more frequently; but procrastinating tendencies - and sheer laziness - stop me from putting finger to blog, and, instead, I find myself whipping through the pages of Facebook, excitedly noting the updates in my newsfeed, or thinking up interesting things to plot in my status.

I am at a low-point in my life. I'm losing friends at an alarming rate; I'm taking ambien to fall asleep often; I'm struggling with my Finance course to complete my MBA for the past year; I'm disappointedly discovering that within my local Jewish community, egos and desperate attempts to secure recognition are dividing the community and keeping it from fulfilling its truest potential.

I am at a low-point in my life.

I know what I need to do: I need to re-think my strategies, my priorities, my goals. I need to re-dedicate myself to my purpose which I have forgotten as the excitement of life takes hold and the hopeful goals I secretly wish to achieve are overshadowed by my mundane problems, worries, and everyday, unnecessary concerns.

Where is the boy who struggled for God? Who struggled to find meaning in life? Who yearned for more? Who was supposed to grow into a man much different from the one who exists today?

Is it ever too late?

No.

It never is.

I am an optimist, wrapped up in a pessimist, but an optimist nevertheless.

I believe that everything happens for a reason; that the universe presents us with ample, abundant opportunities which we must grasp at, embrace, and use to achieve our aims.

The fact of the matter is I've failed. I don't pray the way I used to; I don't read the way I used to; I don't think about God, my guardian angel, my Judaism the way I used to. The distractions have gotten in the way: television, Facebook, liming, drinking, ambien, smoking, friends.

I'm at a low-point in my life.

I forgotten what's important. I've forgotten what I've wanted to accomplish; to discover; to be.

I am at a low-point in my life, but the only place to go is up.

I need to recognize the offer the universe makes me to on a daily basis; the choice is mine, the change is within me.

This is my attempt to chronicle my thoughts from this point, this terrifying low-point, and allow my God to pull me back up. In writing I feel cleansed, and in writing, I feel happy. In writing I will record my thoughts and analyze the pattern of change.

In writing I will break this cycle.

In the morning I will pray. In the morning, I will open my siddur. In the morning, I will study my Hebrew verbs. I know that change never comes in the morning - it comes now. The wise, Jewish sages of yesteryear were wise in discerning that the beginning comes at dusk: at the darkest hour. The change doesn't come in the morning, although we go to bed thinking that it will; the change starts from before - it starts from now. This is why I'm writing this now - to remind myself, to prod myself, to give myself hope. This is a poignant time to make this change: the night sky shines through my open window - the seducing slant of the almost full-moon light pouring onto my bed.

A new cycle begins with the waxing of the moon, and at 4:28PM today, it will reach it's maximum potential and begin anew.

And so will I.

The complacency which has besieged me must go, and the only person to expel it from my life is me; the new cycle starts from here.

I will commit myself to being better - whatever that may mean, however I may interpret that to be.

I will find the strength, determination and grit to realign myself with my already-discovered purpose. So I went off-course a bit for the past couple years - so what? It's never too late.

Be the change that you want to be... or something to that effect.

There is only up from here.