the place between sleep & awake

where you can still remember dreaming

Month: December, 2013

i believe the universe wants to be noticed

It is the tragic flaw of mankind that each individual has the preconceived notion that he or she is special. From an early age, we are told this by both parents and teachers, people who drown us in the idea that not only can we do or be anything we wish, but we can completely alter the world that so kindly acts as our home. To some extent, I believe these statements. I believe that a person has limited control over his or her destiny, and the choices he or she makes will impact others around them. Depending on the choices and actions, the effects can be felt worldwide, hence the belief in “changing the world.”

But, has anyone ever considered the idea that maybe…the world doesn’t want to be changed?

I believe the universe wants to be noticed. I think the universe is inprobably biased toward the consciousness, that it rewards intelligence in part because the universe enjoys its elegance being observed. And who am I, living in the middle of history, to tell the universe that it-or my observation of it-is temporary?”

Recently, I read The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. A gut wrenching, heartbreaking novel, The Fault in Our Stars tells the story of two teenagers, Hazel and Augustus, who fall madly in love with one another. Yet, these two teenagers hardly live normal lives: Hazel and Augustus are both cancer survivors. Having lived through so much hardship by such a young age, both of their outlooks on the world were altered.

The title immediately sets the tone of this novel, as it alludes to William Shakespeare’s play The Tragedy of Julius Caesar. In Act I, scene ii, Cassius comments to Brutus, “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars/But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” John Green’s title, however, aims to disagree with the famous playwright, stating that “never was Shakespeare more wrong than when he had Cassius note” that famous line. Instead, Green takes human power away in this powerful work, explaining that sometimes the fault IS in our stars. While a person does have certain control over his or her life, there will always be things, situations, people in which one has no power over.  In the life long battle between free will and fate, Green chooses to side with fate, offering quite the story as evidence to support his choosing.

Still ill and in fear of when her internal clock will cease to tick, Hazel fears life, constantly worrying about the pain she will inflict on those around her once she no longer exists. “I’m a grenade and at some point I’m going to blow up and I would like to minimize the casualties, okay?” Gus proves her foil in every way. Vibrant and inquisitive, he adds color to what could be a dull, black and white painting. “Because you are beautiful. I enjoy looking at beautiful people, and I decided a while ago not to deny myself the simpler pleasures of existence.” His experience has taught him to embrace the present, to live without regrets, and to take pleasure in everything that will someday be denied to him.

In the novel, both Hazel and Augustus read a book that changes their lives. This book within the book parallels our original story by portraying a young girl suffering from cancer who battles normal teenage struggles commonly found in every day life. Narrated by the young girl, this novel is atypical in the fact that it ends not only mid-storyline in which no resolution is found, but mid-sentence. While readers like myself would have been disappointed by this anti-climatic tale, Hazel and Augustus embrace it as it demonstrates a reality they’ve been forced to acknowledge since birth, a reality that most people are granted the luxury to ignore.  Death isn’t some far away destination that we will someday feel prepared to travel to. Death visits us at its convenience, and very rarely will we be expecting it, let alone be ready for it.

Hazel and Augustus, both living with the expectation that they could die at any moment, can’t escape this concept. Every day they live with the understanding that it could be their last, while we—who technically are in a situation that could end in exactly the same way—remain completely ignorant.

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There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that’s what everyone else does.”

This concept brought an astonishing reality to the front of my mind: I am dying. I, like the rest of the world, suffocate this truth daily, substituting the more comforting ‘someday I will die’ in its place. I plan for the future—fully expecting that a future exists—without consciously acknowledging the idea that I could die at any minute. The only difference between Hazel and I is the fact that she was given more specifics regarding her own time and cause of passing. But still, who is to say she couldn’t get into a car accident and die from injuries before the cancer could attack her lungs further? There is just no telling, no predicting; Hazel is right in the fact that this oblivion is the greatest unrealized fear of humankind.

This mankind ignorance is further demonstrated after Augustus’s passing, when a fellow classmate comments on his social networking site, “You’ll live forever in our hearts, big man.” Hazel’s thoughts regarding that comment revealed a perspective I had never considered as she reflects, “That particularly galled me, because it implied the immortality of those left behind: You will live forever in my memory, because I will live forever! I AM YOUR GOD NOW, DEAD BOY! I OWN YOU!” I can definitely say, I’m guilty of similar comments, and I am certain that ninety-nine percent of those reading this can say the same. However, these seemingly kind words can also be interpreted as extremely arrogant, causing offense to those like Hazel who are forced to look with eyes wide open at the proximity of time before them.

The story is filled with emotional moments, both happy and sad. Both individuals affect one another in such heartwarming, empowering ways. The biggest influence is the one Augustus has on Hazel. Augustus pulls Hazel out of her shell, opening her eyes to the world around her and allowing her the confidence and drive to live for the very first time.  However, there is still one major difference between the two, exemplified in the following conversation:

“What?” he asked.
“Your obsession with, like, dying for something or leaving behind some great sign of your heroism or whatever. It’s just weird.”
“Everyone wants to lead an extraordinary life.”
“Not everyone,” I said, unable to disguise my annoyance.
“Are you mad?”
“It’s just,” I said, and then couldn’t finish my sentence. “Just,” I said again. Between us flickered the candle. “It’s really mean of you to say that the only lives that matter are the ones that are lived for something or die for something. That’s a really mean thing to say to me.”
I felt like a little kid for some reason, and I took a bite of dessert to make it appear like it was not that big of a deal to me. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just thinking about myself.”

While Hazel does finally accept that she deserves her place in the universe, she is content in the fact that her place is a very small one indeed. Hazel finds an ally in the universe, as living and being apart of the world is enough for her. Augustus, on the other hand, finds the world a competitor. He challenges the world. He shows off his humanity, going as far as to carry a pack of cigarettes in his pocket and an unlit one in his mouth. “It’s a metaphor, see: You put the killing thing right between your teeth, but you don’t give it the power to do its killing.” Constantly, he taunts fate and dreams to inflate his importance, not wanting to die without imprinting some part of himself on the world around him.

The sad fate of Augustus Waters hints that maybe John Green’s purpose in writing this impacting story was more than just to influence our emotions. It was more than just to encourage us to live life to the fullest. Maybe, just maybe, Green’s true purpose was to show each reader how insignificant he really is, to inspire each reader to be content within his own life, aspiring for dreams which hold great meaning rather than great recognition.

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“I can’t talk about our love story, so I will talk about math. I am not a mathematician, but I know this: There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. There’s .1 and .12 and .112 and infinite collection of others. Of course, there is a Bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. A writer we used to like taught us that. There are days, many of them, when I resent the size of my unbounded set. I want more numbers than I’m likely to get, and God, I want more numbers for Augustus Waters than he got. But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I’m grateful.”

six words: more than we know

Ernest Hemingway, one of America’s most famous and influential authors, has made his way into my tenth grade academic English class. During Hemingway’s life, he was challenged to write an essay or story in ten words. Hemingway said he would do one better, writing a story in six. He wrote:

                                                            For sale, baby shoes: never worn.

Six words. Six powerful, unclear, yet impacting words. Whatever could he have meant? The ideas are endless. Was the baby born with feet too big for the pre-purchased shoes? Maybe the father bought the shoes, and they weren’t to the mother’s taste? Maybe the parents of the baby are at a garage sale buying the shoes!

Or…

Could this short piece of writing have a more somber tone to it?  Could Hemingway be referring to a child who was miscarried late enough in a pregnancy that he or she already had some wardrobe selections? Maybe the baby was born, but died of an illness or complication, never getting to wear the shoes that someone so hoped he or she would one day.

I value this concept of the six word essay for one reason in particular: its vagueness, yet thoughtful nature parallels humankind’s nature with its peers. I was recently told a metaphor that I won’t soon forget. Each person is an iceberg. When we look at each other, we see the tip—the briefest hint of a person—and we assume that not only is it all there is to the iceberg, but that it is the most powerful part. How wrong that is! Often, the largest part of an iceberg is hidden by the depths of the sea. While we think that by talking to, hanging out with, loving, or hating a person allows us to truly know and understand them, we really have no idea—and most likely, never will.

Hemingway’s essay gives us the tip of a story, a base to latch onto and explore, but he stops there. The rest is up to us. If we ever want to learn, we need to open our eyes and explore what is underneath.

My goal with my tenth grade class doesn’t just revolve around reading capability and writing techniques; I focus on opening their eyes, challenging their beliefs, and forcing them to support their opinions. The world we believe in has been constructed for us, and I like to open their minds to the concept of challenging that. The things they come up with continuously impress me, and often, their creations inspire my own.

After reading their essays, I’m left wondering: what were they trying to say? Were they truly discussing the surface material, or was there something inside of those words, something they are suffocating over trying to say? The following are some of the writings I can’t seem to rid by brain of:

I will party til I’m purple.
Two jackets: one heavy, one light.
The brick wall, poorly built, fell.
Little guy, big bat: town hero.
Gold chain Jail time Bye Bye
So confused; daily life; don’t understand
One boy, never seen; always heard
Love is lost in the music
One man alone; knock at door
I always wanted to go there
Heart for sale; broken beyond repair
Sits quiet; observes others, never judging

WOW.

And, as is my usual pattern, when I can’t wrap my mind around what a work of art is trying to convey to me or when I am so moved by something that it awakens something inside of me, I create my own. And so, I wrote my own six word essay(s).

Far reach, close heart: strong thread.

When trying to think about something in my life to write about, the unnamed poem I wrote in a previous post popped into my mind, causing me to question: If I were to simplify that poem and state it’s meaning or theme in only six words, what words would I use? I don’t believe I ever publicly expressed the meaning of the poem I wrote, or to the depth with which I feel about its content, I still don’t plan on diving into my analytical explanation (which I must say with some embarrassment, I do have); however, I do wish to reveal the inspiration in an attempt to help the reader dive beneath the surface of my ocean in order to uncover the hidden depths of my iceberg.

My six words refers to a time period of separation between a loved one and myself. While distance is obviously difficult, we’ve always been the type to become closer emotionally because of it. Distance remains the killer of a large amount of relationships. Together, some people may remain happily for life; however, distance proves the true test, and something that not everyone is able to survive. It is a trial of the bond, of the thread with which holds two souls together in unthinkable ways.

And with this post, the first in quite some time, I challenge you, the reader: What can you tell me about yourself in 6 words?

Open Eyes: Don’t accept. Live Change.