Finding the Answers

I see God in the distance. And then when I come close, he disappears. Like a cycle this happens, time and time again. I'm aggravated now, trying to figure how to justify my cause. Finding God just isn't easy. He's elusive and intangible and somehow not functioning on all cylinders. Or maybe I'm not functioning on all cylinders. Maybe, both of us are missing a little. We certainly miss each other. I search and search, often coming close. And then when I come close, he disappears. Poof, like a magic show with smoke and mirrors and the works. Somehow, I keep searching. I keep wondering. When am I going to find the answers that I'm looking for?

Toxins

As human beings, we inhale toxins throughout our life. Just walking the streets and breathing. I'm not talking about smog and dirty air. I'm talking of the friction in our world, which matures us and steers us toward our personal horizon. We continue walking the streets, anyway. Do we have a choice? We are given a period of grace in this world. We walk the streets. We have limited time. We live in a world that creates toxicity. At some point we need to cleanse ourselves. 

Glue

I try and do the absolute best that I possibly can. Doesn't this define my identity? I search for some sort of external dimension. I have walked up and down New York City searching for presence. All the while that presence lay within my body. Layered somehow between my flesh and bone. I guess you could call it "glue." Glue for the soul. Glue for the mind, for everything that holds together who I am. Perhaps, I don't distinguish myself at all. Maybe my "glue," only lasts a certain amount of time. It melts away, while I disintegrate from within. 

The Absolute Very Best that I Can

I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself. Pity has possessed me. It digs into my bones, my inner core. It pulls out every little tendency that reflects poor choice. Pity beats a man into submission. Twists his soul like a vicious tornado. God doesn't feel sorry for me. He only expects better. He expects fulfillment of potential. He demands that I do the absolute very best that I possibly can. 

I Count My Blessings

I count my blessings. I ramble on and on about not finding God. But what does it all mean? If I think I have found God, I have. Haven't I? If not, well, I stumble through life tripping over myself. And I do trip over myself, that's for sure. There have been many years when I just didn't do very much right. Where I collapsed in crises, never anything but a victim. But not every year. Many years I held my own. I stood for my potential, for all the gifts that I possess. I count my blessings, because life could be far worse. 

Waiting For Answers

I want to cry like a baby, but that's not going to make things better. Perhaps, I was spoiled as a child. Perhaps, I didn't have to do enough for myself. Whatever happened to me sure makes things more difficult. I'm all grown-up and still searching for direction. Why can't I just find my way? How many years of hardship must I endure? How many years must I stumble through life trying to figure what's really going on? God has some sort of purpose for me, hopefully. I'm certainly waiting for some answers. 

Notice Me

I see God today, and he's not in Dunkin Donuts. Somehow, I think that this is a good thing. Too much sugar and seedy life could have an influence on God. I know that I don't. I seem to mean very little to him. Every time that I see him, he runs away. Maybe, it's me. What can I do differently? I'm certainly reflective. I'm a student, a listener, whatever it takes. What can I do differently to make God notice who I am?

God's Stomach

The boiler in my apartment building rumbles beneath me. The roar, and the shake created, methodically reverberate throughout. I wonder if I'm hearing a higher force. The boiler could be God's stomach. Churning and rumbling in the depths of my building. His stomach growls with hunger. And then the radiator spews forth heat. A trickle of warm air runs through my apartment. Down below the boiler shakes, and I feel the power. God's hungry. 

God Seems Distant

God seems distant. He seems far away and obtuse. His shape seems awkward and listless. His distance from my life seems immense, even in a very small world. I try and grasp his shape. I try and hold tight to a world that asks me for everything that I have. 

Sights and Sounds

Sights and sounds can trick the mind. I can be easily confused by what I see and what I hear. The world can twist sight and sound into strange shapes, easily confusing in a complex way. Even the simplest things, like walking down the street can emerge as a complex picture, with smoke and mirrors and hazy disbelief. But I keep walking, hoping that eventually the haze clears and I see the truth. 

God's Sense of Humor

Does God have a sense of humor? I certainly hope so. How could creation evolve without a little humor in the way we live, the way we treat each other, and even the way we look. I saw a funny looking creature in the mirror this morning. God must have been laughing his ass off when he made me. Actually, he must have been on the ground, rolling, when he created humanity. Everything about humanity reflects some pretty good humor on somebody's part. I'm going to give God the credit. 

Spring Transcends

The cold wind almost knocks me down. I turn the corner on a blustery, winter day in the city. The wind wallops me, tossing me around, and making me want to go back inside. I'm tired of winter. Mostly, I'm tired of feeling empty, of seeing gray, and feeling blue. I want spring, and birds, and green. Most of all, I want sunshine. I want heat, and I even want to sweat. I want to feel the sun's rays ripple through the trees with a brightness that makes me squint. I want to feel comfortable outdoors, without the cold. I would also like the spiritual awakening that comes with spring, a period where optimism transcends winter. Slowly but surely I see birth in the trees and in the bushes. The start of a new cycle of life begins. Life warms up, and the cold wind goes away.

God Only Knows

I stroll down the street with my head down, searching for money. I look for that stray dollar bill, that's how poor I am. My stomach growls from hunger. I walk down the street with my head down. I don't feel much pride today. I feel lower than low. I feel like life has walked all over me. Somehow, the tightness in my belly quickens me. Although I'm hungry, I will survive. I walk down the avenue as fast as I can. I feel my pace, as I hit my stride. The wind smacks my cheeks with a flair that only cold can bring. But I feel warm inside. I will survive my hardship and emerge a better man. Either that, or I starve to death. God only knows. 

Empty Donut Shops

The island feels tight. I sit in the Dunkin Donuts around the corner from my apartment. I have seen God here, but not today. Instead, I see humanity. I see the poor and needy. I see them struggle. I feel for them, as I struggle myself. God hasn't been in Dunkin Donuts today. I can tell by the people around me. I see their pain. I feel for them, but there doesn't seem to be anything that I can do. I look for God. I resolve to find him soon. I walk the streets and look for him. All I find are empty donut shops like the one I'm in today. What does it all mean?

The Fat is Gone

I feel the crispness. My body feels tight. The fat is gone. My meaning has been cut to the core. My existence has thinned, towards a sharpened arrow of my beliefs. I am still searching. I still have many questions. However, the fat has disappeared. I am sharp. I seek his companionship, yet I feel closer. God must be out there, somewhere. 

A Man on a Mission

There's a certain symmetry that happens everyday. There's a certain order in things. I walk up and down New York City. I consume the many different smells. I feel the tightness, the energy of motion. the city buzzes, people milling in anonymity. There seems to be no shortage of people. Too many people. There can be so many people in such a small space, so many lonely people. I walk the streets in search of God. His vision escapes me. His presence eludes me. I walk the city streets a man on a mission. 

Not Quite Right

I feel paranoid and not quite right. I feel like I better look over my shoulder. Something's coming to get me. I better watch my back. I hate this feeling. I want peace and tranquility, when all I see is darkness and doom. My mental stability wavers with adversity. I am depressed sometimes. I am paranoid. I seek answers. I seek wisdom. I walk through my life as a lonely man, sometimes. I often wish that I were happier. I wish that I felt better about my actions and choices and consequence. I wish that I had been a little more successful. I know that I can do better. I need to quit feeling paranoid. I need to quit looking over my shoulder. I need to know that my back is covered. I need to get over feeling not quite right and get on with things. 

The Lean, Mean, Me

Slowly and methodically, I become disheveled by life's little setbacks. Just about everything has been taken. My shell has been sanded down into dust, the remnants of a stronger shell, one would have thought. I seemed invincible. I certainly felt invincible. But I wasn't. I went down, several times, actually. And then picked myself up and made myself better. I streamlined myself. I cut away the fat and got rid of the excess, cutting down to a lean, mean, me. But is this enough, will it ever be enough? Will I go down again? I seek God for these answers. I look to him for inspiration and strength. Hopefully, I can find him soon. 

God Works in Mysterious Ways

God knows... Or does God know? I haven't seen him for a while. Where has he gone? I just can't find the spirituality that I need. I peek in the windows, but he's not sitting in the corner like I often find him. Nowhere to be found, leaving me without anywhere to turn. I float into the spiritual abyss. What can I do? The one, true God that I keep finding looks like a homeless person. He won't tell me what I need to know about the real meaning of my existence. He won't answer my questions. What's he really good for, anyway? Still, I seek, I yearn, and I'm not complacent about things, either. God works in mysterious ways.

Crazy Periods

Sometimes, I feel a little crazy. Let go on the streets and not quite right in the head. So what if I'm a little off. So what if I talk to myself, a little more often than I actually should. So what if I talk out loud, asking myself questions. And then I answer those questions, often with elongated sentences that rarely tell the truth. People look at me funny, sometimes. Most people just think that I have a cell phone, or at least hope that I do. They hope that I'm talking through these periods of craziness. Actually, I'm just talking to God. 

Lets Hope So

I head back towards home, still harboring serious questions regarding my spirituality , and how I should live my life. I'll see God again. At least I hope so, anyway. Despite his consistently gruff treatment towards me, I keep running back. I have a history of putting myself around people that abandon me. I hope God doesn't abandon me. If he does, there's not much to fall back upon. Some things are best kept in my back pocket. If God's not on my team, who is? I'm pretty confident that I'll see God again. Let's just hope so, anyway. 

Without a Backbone

"Yo man. You need to take a break from the donuts." I know my blood is sweet. I know that I really have a problem with Dunkin Donuts. I really am an addict. But God is in there, I keep telling myself. God has the answers. I really need to talk with him. Peter shakes his head in disgust, and he's right. I do need to take it easy on the donuts. I need to just stay away from Dunkin Donuts all together. God, or no God, it is Dunkin Donuts after all, and I don't have a backbone. 

Answers

Coming home from the bar last night, I take a peek into Dunkin Donuts. God sits in the corner, stuffing his face and sipping his coffee. I want to find some answers tonight. I want answers to all the serious questions that have been dogging me. I want some strategy. I want enlightenment. Somehow, I really seem to have a problem with God. Tonight he's in there, sitting in the corner. Tonight I will get some answers. 

Paintings of a Prophet

I find new symbols and new meaning in the paintings of Yoel. I had a deep discussion about his paintings recently. There sits a very religious side, with many paintings touching upon harmony, a journey through both a spiritual and material world. Of course, his work also represents musicians, which explains such lyrical content. Many paintings carry a rhythm. I'm also amazed that a prophet harbors such deep tradition in color. Bright and vivid colors blare from within his canvas, jumping out towards the reader. The prophet captures energy. Yoel's not an every day, run of the mill prophet, by any means. 

I Feel the Jolt

I head home, back towards my comfort zone. I peek inside Dunkin Donuts, yet there's no sign of God. Friday night has a buzz in my neighborhood, couples are out in restaurants and the bars are full. Energy rises to the surface on 3rd Avenue. All of Manhattan released for the weekend, paroled from the grind. New York City comes alive with Friday night flair. I walk home and soak the energy through my nostrils. I breath everything in, I hold my breath and feel the jolt, like a mean caffeine buzz. God's not sitting in Dunkin Donuts tonight, but I know he's out there. 

My Bodyguard

What I'm really looking for is God. Why can't I feel warm and fuzzy all over? Why can't I bask in a warm light and feel the glow of a higher power. Why can't I feel his purpose. I want commitment and resurrection and all those powerful things. I want a bodyguard to watch my back. 

Life's Tiny Pleasures

I know that it's the simple things. Life's small wonders always seem to spill forth, whether or not I actually notice. Usually, I do notice, most of the time. And then other times, I am completely oblivious to even the largest of life's, tiny pleasures.

A Higher Level of Consciousness

Just like my art creates a duality in my life. My paintings explore the person that I would like to become. Doesn't everyone want to transcend? Doesn't everyone want to hit on another level? Feeling movement towards progress, and I don't mean on a selfish, PR level. I mean more about the idea of giving, of taking care of people around me. Can a person transcend a higher level of consciousness?

The Sermon

I went to mass yesterday in the Episcopal Church. I slipped into the church in the middle of the Pastor's sermon. The sermon rang through the quiet church, only half full. Not a very successful flock, I thought. At least in numbers. the Pastor's sermon spoke of giving, how expensive the cost of running the church had become. Just like that, he lost me. He did not understand "giving," he understood "taking." I jumped up and left, never to return.