Tag Archives: Beauty

A Thought on Drive

I recently have been pondering the meaning of living as well as searching for the substance of the soul in my life.  What fills me up? As a college student I am constantly asked to question my future.  What does it hold? Where will I be? What will I be doing? As these ponderings rush through my head I am swept up into a whirlwind of possibilities, a wonderful weightless disappearance into the world of tomorrow and as my feet touch down I am given to following them out.  But what merit do they hold?  What could I possibly gain from following a single one of my future aspirations? Fame… Glory… Riches… A sense of pride and self worth?  These are ideas constantly fed to me by the elders around me.

I have bought into an idea for as long as I can remember, that I would be happy as long as I am pursuing something. That I am achieving the greatest platform of my existence while on the path of driven motivated action.  It happens so subtly.  As if a foggy dream world slowly slipped in over me when I was sleeping and instead of reality filling me up I am lost pursuing foggy shadows of a world with meaning unto itself.  I discovered a lack of meaning associated with a lack of pursuit.  In other words if I wasn’t doing I wasn’t valuable, and this theory is taught to us by every facet of human existence.

If we are not achieving than we are committing ourselves to laziness and will become that man on the side of the street that does absolutely nothing with his life.  I find this model very disturbing for several reasons.  First of all it bases our structure of fulfillment on ever-changing variables in the sense that what we are taught to value is always changing.  Whether that be our own changing desires and dreams, or the ever changing industry or vehicle of our achievement. The basis for our fulfillment is on an ever- shifting platform of uneasy footing.  Secondly I do not believe that my greatest fulfillment comes in a moment of my own doing; that the highest form of success is tied up in in the standards put forth by those around me.

I have realized that it is easy to become engrained in the tide of humanity rushing for this concept.  It is very fulfilling to accomplish something and I am not proposing that an accomplishment in and of itself is bad; however, when accomplishing becomes our fulfillment we have crossed a line.  Crossing that line puts us in a slowly deteriorating system of thought that drains us of our willpower, sucks us into repetitive action, and drags us down into confusion disorientation and a feeling of emptiness.  At the end of the day I want to be able to sit there, do nothing, and feel content complete and fulfilled.  I can often feel this way when I have had a very productive day, and the desire to work is God given, but fulfillment comes from a source outside of ourselves, not from achievement.  My priorities need to be in alignment in order for me to live life to the fullest and to achieve a consistent productive sense of living.  Not productive in terms of the worlds elaborate structure of doing, but productive in the areas of, Jesus, Family, and Relationship.  If I base my fulfillment on a rock unmoving than I will be more likely to succeed in my other pursuits and I will have lived a life worth living.  I refuse to be locked in a constantly shifting sense of fulfillment.  I will focus on what really matters, so that I will never become confined to the ideal of success taught to me by my surroundings, and I will transcend doing and achieve true fulfillment in the ideal of relationship.

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Bubbles and Little Girls

This little girl is so beautiful…  I hope my daughter radiates God’s grace in her life like this little girl.

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Color

Color is an expression of spirit.  A unique mixture of texture perceived differently by all yet shared on a common platform of sight.  Everyone perceives the essence of color differently yet through the common bond of the act of perceiving we can share life.  Color is a bond unique to our condition; all are individuals and see differently yet it is on the basis of one plane that we can communicate.  Color speaks to the soul not through a code confined by distinct rigid properties, but as a soft urging of the soul.   Often the eyes of the spirit are disregarded by logic, yet it is that very ability, unique to everyone, that can be used to bond even the most extreme of opposites. Eyes are used to see the physical, but that is not where our perception was meant to stop. Everything in the physical is a hint into the spiritual, an invitation to explore and discover a meaning greater than the mere observation of a color. It is on that level of exploration that all the discrepancies and beautiful shifting perspectives of the mind can become united in its purpose; connection, intimacy, and a revelation of a divine purpose.  So lets see what happens when we purposely expand our horizon, give our spirit room to thrive, and dive into the world of color.

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Autumn Lights

I have a high value for creativity, and I have recently developed a love of art. I am not only interested in the famous paintings of renaissance artists but I am particularly keen on the work of amazing captivators. Thats ultimately what art is, the pursuit of expressing a thought idea or image in a way that expresses beauty and draws in and captivates the common observer. Art isn’t just the ability to apply a medium to a piece of paper or a canvas in a certain style it is the ability to, produce, express, or portray a realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance. Art is the science of significance. It is the ability to recognize and display or draw attention to significance. Art is made infinitely more meaningful if the artist is revealing a believe an ideal or a fascinating spectacle. This art piece really captured my imagination because it makes me feel as if I am sitting on a bench right after a thunderstorm at night with a cool breeze observing the lights. Lights are something we take for granted often their beauty is mistaken for functionality. There is something profoundly beautiful and captivating about the ingenuity of man to make light, and taking time to observe the little things is something I truly value.

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The Foundation

Perspectives change,
mindsets rearrange.
In a world of ideas, constantly shifting,
is there such a thing as truth persisting.
The desire to search, and the right to disagree
all taken away under the banner of equality.

When right is wrong, and wrong is right
and acceptance is taught as a doctrine of its wrong to fight.
When in reality no perceivable foundation exists,
and an epidemic of changing truth persists.
How can there be an idea of relativistic morality
if the root of the concept is moral depravity.

The idea that there cannot be ultimate truth,
just a mixture of ideas being pumped into the youth.
Not one of them allowed to be labeled as wrong,
all can believe different and yet are still part of the same throng.
Ideas fail to reach their full significance,
foundational ideas become platforms of dissidence.

I believe in the concept of truth,
the existence of an unshakable reality of which we are in a constant search of proof.
An idea incorruptible, by logic or deception
A way of thinking that defies our logical perception.
If truth was decided by mans observation,
than the basis of thought would undergo a violent cessation.

Truth exists as a foundation never changing,
The only variable is our perception ideas twisting and rearranging.
Fact and truth often bare no separation,
One is used to describe the other a divine revelation.
If we can separate the two we will come to realize
That truth supersedes fact and facts can be used to lie.

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The Lake

Nature reveals the things of the divine in a way man cannot maintain.  To those who listen secrets are whispered, mysteries are explained, and the spiritual essence of the divine is revealed.  The essence of nature is precluded by the illusion of control.  If a man sets his being against the chaotic melody of the created he will be forced to bend, as the directionless does not have a stop to its direction.  But if a man aligns himself with the violence, and relinquishes control to the beauty, he will find a stillness and an understanding not forged by the constrains of logic but by an unhindered union with the creator.

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Suspended; held in balance between a weightless abyss and a great expanse of colored nothingness.  I am overwhelmed.  Lying prostrate caught in a battle as old as time, two cataclysmic forces endlessly weighing against each other, a fine line of neutrality drawn between them, none the victor.  They advance at a measured pace neither making a rushed offensive, neither ceasing their endless barrage, both pressing on, playing the deadly game of time, moving through that gateway as one.

Many have tried to describe it using eloquent words and scientific terms, but in the face of such a forceful balancing such words fail to capture its depth.  In the midst of such power and conflict a thin band of peace and stillness thrives, an absence of all conflict, in which I find myself.  Floating on my back; peacefully, blissfully at rest, all semblance of control released to the invisible chaos around me.  Forces so immense the mind cannot hope to attain control; the only road forward surrender.  In such a moment the foundations of heaven touch down to earth, the dusty unused conduits of pure emotion open, and a pathway to the heavens is established. The walls around my heart so meticulously erected are swept aside by the pure force of the void, and an understanding swept my body.  Peace is not an amiable feeling conjured up by a release of pent up emotion, but the force that releases the emotions itself.  Peace is a violent action, the forcible removal of all except a void of pleasant nothingness, not a place of unknowing, but a place to know and to fully be know.  I lay in that state driven there by the magnificence of nature, and held there by the thirst of my soul. A need for rest, the only hope at action enjoyment.

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The Tuckle

A fun, and sometimes deep cacophony of thoughts and unusual perspectives.

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photo essays by ben reynolds

Without an H

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