Reminders of What Life is Really About

I had a really tough time in High School, as I think most people did.  To help me remember what really mattered, I used to keep a composition notebook with me in which I would write all the times I remembered things that were important about how to live.

At least for me, that is how I find purpose in things. In little bits and pieces, in the smiles of strangers, the warmth of a cup of coffee on a cool night, a hug from a friend, or a kiss from a lover.  It is odd really.  One might expect a more unified, cogent view of purpose, but it has never appeared to me that way.   Rather it appears and then vanishes, but only pieces of it are visible each time.  Some times I can keep it in view for days, but other times it seems lost, out of view or at least out of focus.

Thinking back to what I used to write in that notebook, makes me smile.  Both with warmth from the hope it offered, and from that wry irony that hits you when you look back at your old self and your old thoughts.  I think about things so differently now.   I was so much more Christian back then, or at least more religious.  I was also so much more self assured. I thought that being smart mattered.  Since I have found it matters little in areas of real import.  But  most of the bits of meaning I found back then had nothing to do with these things.  They were about love, and loss, and meaning.

I haven't been recording things as well lately, but I think it is time to start.  I have found that, especially as you get older and busier, it is easier to lose sight of  those little bits of meaning.  I have also found that they become all the more important.  Teenagers are foolish, but adults are dangerous.

As such, I think I want to start writing them down again, so I suppose I will record them here.  Perhaps they may be of use to someone else too.

04/17 - I want to be a radiant person, someone who projects that inner light.  Not because I feel like I have to, or I should.  Maybe partly because I feel like I can be.   But mostly because I want to.  Perhaps it is a latent desire to pay back those who have done something nice for me.  I feel like I'm not good at it, but that is no reason not to try.
http://mobile.nytimes.com/2015/04/12/opinion/sunday/david-brooks-the-moral-bucket-list.html?referrer=&_r=0

04/17 - I dedicate this one to my friends, Keyan and Mercedes, who kept me company on a lonely Saturday night when my wife was at work.  They invited me over to watch a movie and stayed up with me even though they were tired.  I hope I do the same, the next time I have the chance.
 Friends > sleep