From My Notebook: Little Red Ball

The ball soars upward, a streak of red in the perfect blue sky. When will it come back down to my waiting hands? Was I really that strong to throw it so high? 

But then I realize; it’s not coming down.

I gaze up at it, a small red dot, growing ever smaller. I laugh and wave good bye to it. It is free, rising above the world of gravity; through chilly clouds, past soaring birds. Brave little ball, how scary it must be to be the first to show the world that laws are only words. 

Up and up it climbs, what a view it must see! For an instant I wish I could be up there with it, to be so free. But life still holds me bound to earth at the will of gravity. Still further up it goes, past comets and shooting stars. Will it return home? What a brave little ball, shining up in the galaxies, brighter and happier than any star around it. 

“Billy, are you going to toss me the ball?” I hear daddy’s voice. I flinch, back in the real world. 

Looking down I see that same little red ball in my hands. I laugh again and toss it to dad.

“Don’t worry, little ball, I know where you’ve been!” I whisper to it as it flies through the air, up and up, free! Then gravity pulls it back, the invisible leash drawing tight. 

It arches gracefully and lands in my dad’s hand.

The Car Drive Home

The road stretches on and on, into blankness and all I see are pairs of red brake light of the cars ahead; the white headlights of the cars rushing past and all of these floating lights being caught in the raindrops on the windshield, creating millions of tiny stars. The music on the stereo takes the main stage over conversation as I gaze out the black windows, absorbed in my own thoughts. I think about an upcoming writing competition I’m about to enter into. With all the competitions I’ve ever entered in my life (mostly coloring pages from the local newspaper when I was little) I have never won a single one, never even gotten feedback from them. All these memories of failed competitions make me wonder what’s the use of entering another one? There will always be someone better at what I do out there and the judges will always pick them. But then a quote comes to mind,

“Use talents you posses; the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best.”

 And then I realize the point of competitions is not so much to win, but to do your very best, to always be pushing yourself further and to fail gracefully. For it is how we deal with failure that says who we really are, not our number of accomplishments. So I resolve, right here, on this quite drive home; that I will never give up, even if my failures are 100 to 1. Because I know that every rejection of my work only makes me better, and I never know when this next entry will be the one that’ll win. My hopes rise high, and as we get closer to home, closer to the end of the car trip, I look up to the beautiful stars that sprinkle the night sky. They may be obscured by the lights of this world and the clouds and rain, but still they are there, hidden jewels, waiting for their time to shine.

Broken Trophies

Michael Phelps just got 4th in a swimming race at the London 2012 Olympics; plus his world record was broken by the winner, another American. It just goes to show how pointless trophies, awards, and accolades are. Sure they're nice, but records are always broken, there will always be someone better. Trophies gather dust, and heroes of the past are forgotten; left in the cobwebs of their achievements for the NEW strongest person, the NEW record breaker. It’s depressing if you think about it; popularity is so fickle. One day you're a super star, the next you're old news. This is why life shouldn't be lived for the temporary achievement; the goal in life isn't the next trophy. It’s about the journey; and ultimately, your eternal destination.

Aurora Theater Shooting

When an evil crime is committed, Innocent lives lost; what do you do? What do you think... what do you say? There’s nothing; nothing you can say or do that will make the pain go away. The illusion of safety has been rudely, but truthfully, torn to pieces. No one is truly safe. All it takes is one man, one firing gun... one bomb, to make people see how fragile life really is. Where is the good in all the darkness? Where is hope when evil swoops down with its ugly fangs bared? They are found in the officer who lays down his life to save others, in the prayer groups that gather to pray for the wounded, in the comfort from one friend to another. People come together when lives are torn apart, life will go on, even when it's hard to see it at first. The darkness may be present for this moment, but light shines brightest in the darkness, and the good news is; this darkness will end, the dawn is coming.

"In the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer." - Samwise Gamgee, The Two Towers

The Suffering Prince

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Happy Easter everyone!

From My Notebook: Japan

Crashing waves, rumbling rocks.

Splitting earth and sinking docks.

The end is near,

So how dare we sit here,

While the world falls apart,

And people die without a forgiven heart. 

In memory of the devastating earthquake and tsunami that happened in Japan one year ago today.

Squid, Anyone?

I attended a Hawaiian gathering, with good Hawaiian food and music. It was a fun new experience, especially one thing in particular. That was trying squid for the first time. I came to the meal telling myself I would at least try one new thing, even if it looked and smelled gross. So the time came to go through the buffet line and I stuck to the familiar stuff, potato salad, chips. I wasn't that hungry. I came to the end and decided to take the most disgusting looking food in the assortment. I had heard someone ahead of me say it was calamari, I thought it sounded and looked strange and different so I put a few pieces onto my plate before I could change my mind. Back at the table I took my time coming to it, not that I was afraid of trying it, but I wanted a good taste in my mouth first, so I nibbled on chips. I think everyone at my table was thinking I wouldn't try it, and my mom finally asked if I was going to. I said yes and without thinking took a piece and put it in my mouth. The first couple of bites I had to force myself to chew. Up down, up down. I tried to think of anything but the texture, I have always disliked stuff with a rubbery, squishy texture, and that squid was every texture that I can think of that I dislike. But the taste was actually quite good. I tried to tell myself it tasted a lot like cheese, one of my favorite flavors. I laughed to see the faces of everyone around me. I reassured everyone that it was good and that I kind of liked it, but I had to add that the aftertaste wasn't that pleasant, like a bunch of dead fish. I told myself that I'm going to finish all five or six pieces, and I did. But each piece was harder to swallow than the last. Not because of the taste, I'm not lying when I say I liked it, but the rubbery texture made me want to gag. Indeed, I thought I couldn't finish the last piece without throwing up. That experience reminded me of something Emile from Ratatouille said, "If you muscle your way past the gag reflex, all kinds of food possibilities open up!"