Editing the Sponge

Take Karma for example, poor thing has been called all kinds of names, most popularly ‘bitch’. For Karma believers out there, and for non-believers just bare with me for the point I’ll attempt to make, for the notion and not necessarily this specific cause; humans, hear me out.

Some people fear harming others or committing wrong deeds just so Karma wouldn’t come around to bite them in the ass. Right? Well, how about you try being selfish for a change? Selfish, you ask? Yes. It can be good for you. No, really.

Why doesn’t anyone ever try doing something good so that Karma would come back around and pat them on the back? Reward them, if you will. Or has Karma been irrevocably stigmatized as a bitch in your head, you don’t think she’s capable of doing that? What goes around comes around no? Initiate what goes around as something good, something positive and believe that what’ll come around is something of equal value and grace.

If you don’t want to do something positive for no reason, hey, I won’t blame or judge you, I’ll just ask you to do it for the reciprocation. Do it with the very intent to be rewarded. Do it as a seed you’re planting to eventually get to enjoy the fruits. Don’t fear Karma, reach out to her. After all, Karma will come around eventually to…

Well, you get to decide that. And the beautiful thing? Think about how often and where you can implement this concept. Countless times in countless occasions.

Perspective. It all comes down to perspective.

No, you are not. Call them weaknesses, call them areas for improvement, there’s always room to grow and progress. You may believe that you’re better than others but remember that you have more in common with the person right next to you than you think you do. Perfection can be sought but rarely attained. Humbleness is a beautiful trait and it can only get you a few steps closer to true and exquisite goodness. Reward yourself for the good you do and reprimand yourself for the bad. No human is above everyone else, treat people the way you wish to be treated. Give back to people and give back to yourself. Forgive, give second chances, communicate and compete against yourself. Raise your own bar. Be better.

No, you are not. Waste is but a terrible thing. Know that most of what you throw away have several very practical uses. There are a lot of green cycles. There’s recycling, up-cycling, down-cycling, free-cycling and a lot more you can do instead of throwing away different forms of goods. Green talk aside, be efficient in what you do. The more effort you put into something, the stronger and more valuable the result will be. Quality trumps quantity so add some devotion and conscientiousness in what you do whether you’re cleaning up after yourself, volunteering, working, reading and living in general. Efficiency guarantees you better outcomes and will consequently provide you with great personal satisfaction. Remember that you are malleable, you’re not made of stone. Change the way you look at your errands, your chores, your work. “Love what you do to do what you love,” we often hear. So love what you do by doing it in the best way you possibly can.

No, you are not. The scale of perfection has been set by some people. People who are by no means better than you or me. Always keep that in mind. The grass isn’t that much greener on the other side, the human nature just suffers from an acquired major flaw: dissatisfaction. We’ve been programmed to find the flaws in anything and everything deeming the way we look, how we live, where we work unsatisfactory. Your “imperfections” are someone else’s desires. Embrace who you are and occupy your own body and mind. There’s a reason we’re different, why else did God create us so? Your actions are performed by you so choose them wisely. Change what you don’t like about you and keep reinventing yourself.

I seek balance. I find it. I fight for keeping it. I lose it at times and I repeat the process again. And again and again. I constantly attempt to find balance between my spiritual path and my earthly one. Balance between work, family and friends. Balance for my body. Balance in my traits. All in all, balance to become the person I want to be. One method I’ve found to work and has helped me in becoming who I want to be is to see who I don’t want to be. Negative connotations seemed to work as they scare me by showing me who I don’t want to become. Seeing someone who is arrogant, someone who is unfair or someone who is hateful, for example. On the other hand, seeing someone who is helpful, someone who is cheerful or fair will inspire me to become so.

Then one day, I Stumbled Upon the picture that follows. To me, it embodied something I thought was very strong, yet another method to help me with the balance I constantly seek. With an attempt to merge several techniques together, openly fight for balance, and perhaps help a few people along the way, I’ve decided to start a series called “No, You Are Not”. 

“We see things as we are. Not as they are.”

Change your perspective and may you find the balance you seek.

I am met with laughter and opposition whenever I tell someone that in the unlikely event of my marriage and in the even unlikelier event of my pregnancy, I wouldn’t want to know the sex of my baby till he/she is born.

I have my reasons. Some of which is that I think I’ll like the thrill and the anticipation. I would be more excited (and I’m sure, scared) about the fact that I’m having a child. I believe that there is a lot more I should be and would be preparing for and taking care of. And call me old-school, I just simply don’t want to know. 

Few people have told me that I wouldn’t be able to do so because I wouldn’t stand not knowing. I politely disagree. The majority of people, on the other hand, think that I won’t be able to wait because babies’ clothes only come in pink, or blue.

Of all the things that baffle me in the world. This one most definitely lingered in my head for a few months more than it should. Pink, or blue. Colors. We narrow down babies to colors. We LIMIT our children to colors. We expose our children to unnecessary gender-specificity before their senses could even develop. We allow marketers to, once again, dictate on us what to do and what not to do.

I find it difficult to write about this because sincerely, I find it obnoxious and amusing. Okay, not amusing. It’s actually a serious issue if you take the time to think about it. To wear a green shirt, blue jeans, a burgundy veil and yellow shoes is all it takes to piss my sisters off. Why? Because these colors “don’t match”. Why? Because “they” said so. Why? Because we’re incredibly and unhealthily limited to certain schemas that have the potential to be the end of us.

Boys wear blue. Girls wear pink. Boys love action figures. Girls love Barbie dolls. Boys will become pilots, engineers, doctors. Girls will become stewardesses, secretaries, nurses. See where I’m going with this? Expectations limit us. There is no innovation nor greatness in predictability. Paths, pre-drawn by our parents or our society, leave no room for us to become leaders. By us, I mean men and women. By men and women, I mean humans. By humans, I mean those created differently intentionally by God for a reason. For thousands of reasons. If you live by what “they” say and follow what “should” be done and keep from taking initiative, you’ll never get to find out about any of those reasons.

Aren’t you in the least bit curious?

It emanates on the face with conspicuous subtlety,

walking about with shameful pride in its stride.

Thoroughly covering every inch of the body,

taking the chance to leave the tangibles behind.

It brings about a systematically unmethodical process,

fostering fights between the body, the mind, and the soul.

Throwing fists, punches, throws, kicks, and lashes,

they each win a round with an aimless, bitter goal.

Praise them, love them, embrace them three fools,

they’ll eventually find their way.

They’re trying to set forth an elegant beast,

coming with feeble strength here to stay.

Pain is it, I see?

It looks so lovely.

Could it genuinely be,

a cursed gift for me?

I had no arms. I slept to dream that I had no arms. Dream? I instantly deemed it a nightmare, an atrocious one. I had no arms. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to drive, dress, eat, drink, hold anything, shake hands with anyone, wave, type, draw, cook, make anything, work. Would I be rendered useless? Yet, the first thing that came to my mind was not any of the above. Without arms, I wouldn’t be able to be honest. I wouldn’t be able to rant, to speak the truth, to dream, or explore. I could talk, right? I’m one of the most talkative people I know. But when it comes to writing, that’s when I’m most honest. I didn’t think about any other arm function I’d miss. All I could think about was writing. I can’t speak of the truth, of how I truly feel, except in my writing. I can’t be honest with my self except through my writing. I don’t explore the real me except in what I write.

Was this a wake-up call for me to finally build up verbal and moral courage and put my over-use of speaking into good use? Into trying to speak more often of what I write and say the things that I know, if said out loud, would help me psychologically and physically? I don’t know. But I know that nothing, besides death, has scared me this much in a while. My arms shook at the thought of losing me; leaving me to my mind all by myself and my soul.

If you were my pen, I would use you to scratch anything beautiful I wrote. I would use you to scratch any positive thought I scribbled. I would use you to turn any smiley face I ever drew into a sad one. I would passionately write everything horrible and obnoxious about myself. I would draw my nightmares into reality. But I’m my pen, you’re not my pen. Yet, somehow, we both manage to do all of the above anyway.