Like the rest of nature, we tend not to act of our own accord without some force compelling us. That force can have its source outside of us, as when we move out of the path of an oncoming vehicle; or it can have its source inside of us, as when we respond with tears to some unresolved pain. Especially with regard to this latter force, it is sometimes difficult to tell which factor-- or combination of factors-- leads us to do this or that.
Other times, however, that force pulls at us with such power that we are aware of nothing else. This could be the death of a loved one, or the beginning of a relationship. It is with these major forces, these moons that pull upon the oceans of our hearts, that I am concerned; because it is most often these forces that tear us from our places of comfort, that challenge our most deep-seated beliefs, and that rarely leave us the same. In fact, our views of others, our world, and of ourselves can shift drastically, for better or-- if we let it happen-- for worse.
In my own life, these changes in perspective have almost always come through pain. I wrestle with feelings I don't want to feel, and begin to understand in that struggle the meaning of Christian freedom; I become immobilized by a cold, and discover how little control I can sometimes have over my life; and I experience unrequited affection (not monumental, I know, but enough to bring a guy down), and begin to see that there is far more to life than girls.
My point is this: although we hate the pain that life sometimes hands us, it is this inward pain that stirs us enough to change ourselves or our world. This new paradigm through which we see things excites us to action in a way that our lives before never could have. Received with the right perspective, it is this pain that can develop in us a character that we never could have possessed without it. Received with the wrong one, this pain will lead us to become bitter and guarded. Like so much else in life, then, we ultimately have a choice, and here it is a choice to be mice or to be men.
Other times, however, that force pulls at us with such power that we are aware of nothing else. This could be the death of a loved one, or the beginning of a relationship. It is with these major forces, these moons that pull upon the oceans of our hearts, that I am concerned; because it is most often these forces that tear us from our places of comfort, that challenge our most deep-seated beliefs, and that rarely leave us the same. In fact, our views of others, our world, and of ourselves can shift drastically, for better or-- if we let it happen-- for worse.
In my own life, these changes in perspective have almost always come through pain. I wrestle with feelings I don't want to feel, and begin to understand in that struggle the meaning of Christian freedom; I become immobilized by a cold, and discover how little control I can sometimes have over my life; and I experience unrequited affection (not monumental, I know, but enough to bring a guy down), and begin to see that there is far more to life than girls.
My point is this: although we hate the pain that life sometimes hands us, it is this inward pain that stirs us enough to change ourselves or our world. This new paradigm through which we see things excites us to action in a way that our lives before never could have. Received with the right perspective, it is this pain that can develop in us a character that we never could have possessed without it. Received with the wrong one, this pain will lead us to become bitter and guarded. Like so much else in life, then, we ultimately have a choice, and here it is a choice to be mice or to be men.
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