In Lieu of a "Happy Bday Post"....

I love this song, "Let it be Me" by Ray LaMontagne....absolutely love it! I think about God and just what it means to have a real support system in one's life. He's all the support I need.

"I will be your God throughout your lifetime. Until your hair is white with age. I made you and I will care for you. I will carry you along and save you."
-Isaiah 46:4

So in lieu of a b-day post of all my "goals" for 2011...Enjoy a lovely, inspirational song ...Happy Jan. 12th! :-)

Find more artists like Ray LaMontagne at Myspace Music

Poetry: A Silent Christmas

I love the holiday season, but I can't help but place myself in other people's shoes at times. This is a poem inspired by a good friend of mine. I hope you enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it.

A Silent Christmas

The sun's rays crept into the corners of his eyes,
He raised the back of his hand,
Rubbed his eye in so coy a manner,
And peered over his pinkie to the door to his bedroom.
The door never opened,
No laughter filled the hallways,
No children ran in pajamas to impede upon his peace,
To wake him from his slumber,
Only the sun.

He listened to the pain-staking quietness,
Grieved over the absence of giggles and the scurrying of little feet.
He heard nothing, not so much as a peep.
No little children anxiously awaiting to unravel gift wrap,
No scents of hot apple cider creeping underneath his door,
Infusing the house, and his entire being with the aromas of Christmas.
No enchanting carols to permeate his ear drums,
Nothing,
Only silence.

He dare to put the white down comforter back over his head,
Dared to look over at the empty space in his queen size bed,
Dared to dream of the love of his life laying beside him,
Awaking to celebrate such a joyous occasion.
But no one lay beside him,
No one to stare at and thank God to have another holiday with,
No one to gently whisper a "Merry Christmas" and "Happy Holidays" to.
No reason to slowly climb out of bed so as to not disturb,
No one to instruct to go back to sleep,
So he could calm the rambunctious imaginary children.
No one.
Just him,

And his Silent Christmas.

~Olaitan F.

Feature: Love, Romance, and Mansfield Park

I am an avid Jane Austen fan. I love the tales of romance, love gone awry, unrequited affections, and the like. I have realized and dare to say that I too am a hopeless, or better yet, a hopeful romantic.

Mansfield Park, like Pride and Prejudice, and unarguably the majority of novels by the famed Jane Austen, focuses on the same story line. A woman of standards and intelligence, enters into high society and is courted by a gentleman of wealth and mundane appearance, and half her status in intellect. However, she inevitably falls in love with an eligible bachelor who is cultured and comparable to her in education yet, ironically still superior in social status. Austen never fails to ensure that the gentleman that her heroine chooses is slightly off-putting in appearance, yet made handsomer and more charming by his love and pursuit of the heroine. In the end, they often fall in love, marry, and live happily ever after.

Mansfield Park is a royal mess in so many words, yet I adore it. The British accents, the exceptional grammar and immensely challenging vocabulary, and the drama, the fabulous drama! One sister marries for wealth, yet leaves her "unagreeable" husband for a charming playboy, another sister rivals for the affections of one such eligible bachelor, the heroine is in love with a childhood sweetheart who happens to fall in love with another woman of high society and the whole thing is a never-ending labyrinth of royal mess.

"I cannot know if he loves me, says Eliza. Well I ask, did he ever gaze on you with admiration, tenderly press your hand, drop an involuntary tear and leave the room abruptly? Never replied she, he's always left the room indeed when his visit has been ended."

I love this line, the complexity of a woman's mind, intertwined with the overwhelming feelings in her heart, forces her to read into things and look for a deeper meaning than most men intend to send off. I too am guilty of this. He loves me, he loves me not and so on and so forth, when in actuality the man in question isn't even thinking of you. How often do we love one who loves another. Its a travesty of genuine human emotion, to say the least. Every woman longs to be romanced, to be courted, to be loved, to be desired, to be fought for, to be chosen by the object of her affections, yet the one who actually follows through is rarely the one that she herself has chosen. Why? C'est la vie, I presume, but why is life so cruel to the heart?

Sir Crawford says, "There is only one happiness in life, to love and to be loved. You're killing me." To which Ms. Price replies, "No man dies of love, but on the stage."

I believe this to be true, on both ends. Love is the only happiness in life. But what you chose to love and give your whole heart to is what defines that happiness. Be it God, the object of your affections, knowledge, wealth, or well-being. Over time, many things fade, but true love is the only thing worth having.

On the other hand, no one dies of love but on the stage. However, when all the world's a stage, an individual will anguish and suffer from disappointment. When this happens, eventually the pain of heartache, can drive them to the point of death--or at least what feels like death.

I, for one, have learned an incredible lesson from Mansfield Park...do not awaken love until it so desires, a theme common to the biblical book of Songs of Songs, and echoed within the pages of Jane Austen's novels. Love, such complexity. But such is life.





Images:
Guardian.co.uk
Soundtrackcollector.com

Bloggher Love....

Personal Post:

I've come to realize that is a daunting task to view all your favorite blogs because you like them. To see each bloggherlicious post pop-up on your news feed every hour on the hour of every day is taxing. To click on each and every single blog you follow and read every single post you've bookmarked and make comments on every itsy bitsy thingy that you likey is tiring. To multi-task and toggle between facebook and blogspots, wordpress and typepad, myspaces and yahoos, qwerty phone pads and emails....its all daunting, darling but daunting.

So I am here to say to all my blogging blogosphere icons, my bloggher-loving readers, my photo-hawking internet galacticons, my back-breaking mini-upcoming blogger children...it is a tough job to be on the edge of fashion and lifestyle and all things "interesting". It is a tough job to always have something to post that's so refined that no one can find fault. Its a tough job to find your favorite blog-subjects ridiculed and mocked by your readers. Its a tough job to try to make a living out of this thing called blogging....its a small world after all.

So please, I ask that you understand just how hard we have it. That you give us time to gather our thoughts, and be gracious with us when we write run-on sentences, and massive typos...please spare us, and just read.

Thank you.
-signed, a citizen for the advancement of dialogue between strangers. :)

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