I'd Like to Add . . .

I just got done watching the movie August Rush .  Something about it takes my words away and makes me want to replace them with music.  It's like the music just swipes the words out of my mouth. I know it's not a true story.  I know that the little boy probably wasn't playing because it never does really show his face and his hands playing guitar in the same shot. But something about it makes me think, what is stopping me, or anybody from being a genius.  Not a book genius per se, although sometimes people can become amazing because of what's inside them.  I mean gifts.  What are the bricks that build the walls that box us in? What stops us from taking just one step past the boundaries that people have laid for us in the past? If you write, what's stopping you from making the most spectacular gift there ever was to be written or read?  If you're a musician, what's stopping you from composing the most beautiful symphony man's ears have heard ye

So I haven't posted anything in a while and I've been trying to work on something but it just isn't quite done yet.  However, there has been a lot on my mind with Christmas coming soon and there were some things I wanted to write about so I thought I would just sit down and write this now and worry about what I've been working on later.    This morning I had the radio tuned to a local variety station that is currently only playing Christmas music (surprise, surprise) and the music only from Handel's Messiah's Hallelujah Chorus started playing.  I waited for the words to start but they never did so I just sang along myself from what I knew.  I found it funny though that a radio station would play the music from such a blatantly Christian song, but not put the words with it.  I was glad that they played the music at least but it made me think about the whole issue of not recognizing the real meaning of Christmas in a whole new light.  It does upset me to see thi

I know I’ve been told many a time how fortunate I am to be able to own or experience even half of what I have now.  Don't get me wrong, I dont want to stop getting these things and I want to understand how blessed I am to have them, but  I still have a problem.  No matter how much I try to make it sink into my mind that I am blessed, I still feel that I deserve things.  The word even annoys me when used in certain contexts.  According to dictionary.com, one of the definitions of the word deserve is: 1 . to merit, be qualified for, or have a claim to (reward, assistance, punishment, etc.) because of actions, qualities, or situation 2. to be worthy of, qualified for, or have a claim to reward, punishment, recompense.   The reason I dislike the word in some contexts that it is most commonly used to argue that someone deserves something good.  Who of the human race is exempt from having ever done anything wrong? Nobody.  So why should anyone deserve so

So last time I posted, it was called  The Sound of Music I, which was what most of the post was about.  I did intend to make a second post involving the words of the title (hence, the I). This post, although it is titled almost the same, is about something a little different.  Last time I mostly wrote about the song My Favorite Things which is one of my favorite songs in the movie,  The Sound of Music.   I think that each person should have their own version of that song.  Everyone needs a collection of those things that they can think of and then they don't feel so bad.  Here are a few on my list . . . music in general acoustic music homade music worship music loud music bonfires fireplaces hot drinks heated seats microfiber blankets food scarves pump-you-up music christmas lights warm sweaters splitting meals people going out of their way to bless strangers my dogs my family my friends going out for breakfast coupons renting movies walks ice cream (duh

I have always had a love for the movie The Sound of Music .  I would attribute this to the fact that I think I watched the movie about every other day when I was a little squirt but also (and mostly) to the fact that it is plainly just a well done movie.  With the watching of this high quality movie being such a common recurrence when I was little, it's no wonder that it ended up affecting my worldview.  I find myself somewhat often referencing that movie (usually in my mind) for some reason or another and this week I found myself again reminded of it.  One of the songs in it in particular . . . Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens Bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens brown paper packages tied up with strings these are a few of my favorite things. . .  And on the song goes as you probably know if you've paid any attention to famous musicals starring Julie Andrews.  I think that apart from the catchy tune of this song though, there is a lot to appreciate about

What makes for a good day? When I say to my family as either I or they leave for work or school in the morning "have a good day" what do I really mean by that? If I had to define it, I would be saying that I really want them to be satisfied with how they lived that day but I fear that sometimes when saying things like "have a good day" or answering "good" when I am asked how I am is sometimes solely an involuntary phrase- not necessarily the truth. These responses we get so used to saying can be classified just as much of a lie as if I told someone I didn’t breathe air if I’m responding only out of habit and not because I’m truly answering the question. I could know full well that I’m not feeling well emotionally or physically but when someone asks me, I know I have replied "good" when I did NOT consider myself good. Do we reply with the standard "good" just because we don’t want to take the time to go into detail about why we rea

Chels and I decided to go to coffee shops to study for the SAT this week and I realized that I have developed a fondness for them.  For a while now, I have had a liking for them and their ambiance (some more than others) but spending hours there on a daily basis this week has given me a new appreciation for them. Think about the concept of a public place that doesn't feel like a public place that not only serves delicious, warm (or cold) drinks and snacks, but also provides furniture and an environment that practically forces you to think deeply and reflect.  I don't know what it is about the smell of coffee and the comforting surroundings of a coffee shop that give me a desire to read and learn and look up things that I might not otherwise be inspired to inquire of but there's definitely something. There is something about a coffee shop that calls me toward making the most of my brain. Maybe it's the company of the people there.  As I was telling a friend about som

Text messaging. It's hit the world by storm. I would go as far as to say that it's a pandemic. But unlike most other pandemics people fall victim to, it is rarely diagnosed and cured these days. I witnessed the other day while wandering about the mall food court, three young people seated at a table, two girls on one side and on the other, a young man facing them. There was nothing odd about their seating arrangement, but rather what they were doing. The two who were seated facing one another were each engulfed in their phones, doing what looked very much like texting while the third let her eyes wander around the court, apparently bored.  My protest is not so much against texting.  Text messaging is an extremely handy branch of technology that I personally take advantage of daily.  My feud is with what this generation is doing with texting (not to mention the immature, illegal, pornographic, shameful things people use texting for).  I believe that texting is used for much