The Fine Line Between Genius and Insanity

Recently a friend of mine mentioned that he thought Walt Whitman was brilliant, a genius even, but that he may have been a tad crazy too. I considered this notion for a moment and begin to think of other great artists, poets, writers, etc. What about Sylvia Plath, Edgar Allan Poe, Albert Einstein, Leonardo DaVinci, Dali? The list could go on for quite some time. The point is, all of these people are brilliant. I mean truly brilliant, not in the sense of simply being intelligent, but their intellect and capacity to obtain knowledge and understand concepts and theories is so far beyond what the average person is able to comprehend.
So often, people with this sort of mind, although occasionally praised and revered, are often rather shunned from society. "Normal" people cannot understand the brilliant ones. They do not typically "fit in" at usual social functions, and their conversations are beyond average to say the least. To most people though, that is simply frustrating, weird, and crazy.
I have a theory on this though. First of all, I believe average people say a genius is crazy because it's a simple explanation, one that requires no real backup, and it is easily dismissed in conversation and people simply carry on as they were. I think though that the real reason these people are labeled as "crazy" is because they have the courage to bring to life thoughts and ideas and beliefs that other people only dare to think of in the darkest caverns of their minds. If everyone were honest about what they really thought, wouldn't we all be a little bit crazy too?

The Long Road

the frailty of life is something intangible. it cannot be held in the palm of the hand. it cannot be seen or heard. it is however quite real to all of us, yet we disregard its importance until we are faced with the cold, harsh reality of it.
someone died today. someone dies every day, but this someone was the husband of a friend. as i drove home and watched watched the road unwind in front of me the same way it does every day, i remembered how it feels to lose someone you love. i remembered how it seemed as though i were outside myself watching everything go on around me. i could see myself standing there while the rest of the world continued on with everyday functions. it was as though i were screaming and no one could hear me. there, that cold, dark solitude is what i remembered so well today. that, i'm sure, must be how my friend felt today as she moved through the motions in complete shock while other people tended to their everyday lives. tomorrow she will wake up and her world will have been forever changed. she no longer has a safe place to call home. her home has been dismantled and there is nothing she can do about it.
that is the core of what i'm thinking now. i know so well what it is to lose your "home". not necessarily that i no longer have shelter or a dwelling place, but my actual home with my family, that safe comfortable place, is no longer there for me when i am hurt, frightened, exhausted, lonely, or in need of solace. my home is no longer something that exists. it is nowhere.
is my road one that leads me home? is the idea of home something that can never be attained? is it something that is only fleeting...something that should it be obtained is only destined to be lost again?
i was told tonight there is a difference in living and surviving. i'm not certain that i can differentiate between the two though. nor am i sure what the goal of doing either might be. live for what? survive for what? is there a point to traveling this long, arduous road? what does the end hold? maybe nothing after all...

The Intellect in Theology

For the past year and a half or so I have had lengthy theological debates with an incredibly intelligent friend of mine via Gmail chat. These debates have at times grown quite passionate, and often the only answer I can muster is a simple "I don't know." Initially I was strongly opposed to many of his ideas simply because of my own fundamentalist foundation.

The problem with being a fundamentalist Christian though is that it removes the ability for people to think and reason on their own. As children we are told many different facts about Jesus, the Bible, church, etc; facts that may indeed be fallacies. I think that these ideas such as the inerrancy of the Bible are taught because they are easy. They require no thought. They simply are accepted as truth.

Now if we are encouraged to sort out and reason our own way through issues such as philosophy and politics and also pressed to excel in areas such as calculus and chemistry, how can we rationally discourage people from exploring religion and building a foundation for their beliefs instead of simply accepting someone else's ideology as our own truth? Therein lies the intellect in theology. We should encourage others to seek their own answers, and to ask questions, and to have doubts. How can one man's faith be built on the foundation of another man's? My house cannot be built on my neighbor's foundation. The same applies to my relationship with God and my faith in Him. It must be something that I come to on my own with my own understanding of who God is in my own life. I am unable to do this if my ability to question and think is taken away from me. God has given this intellect. It would be an injustice not to use it.

Free Life

I realize I "borrowed" the title of this song from Dan Wilson, but I think he's on to something. In fact, I know he is.

I have this life, this free life, and in it, I may choose to do what I please. There is no one telling me I HAVE to do any one specific thing or not do something else. Given that freedom of choice, how should I choose to spend it?

Ultimately, I hope that in my life I am wise and make decisions based on what I believe is the only lasting thing in this world--relationships. I hope that in my time on this lovely earth I am able to be someone who treats others with kindness, compassion, and understanding. Granted, this will not always be the case, but nevertheless, it is what I hope for.

Now with this idea in mind, how am I to navigate the waters when I encounter someone who essentially is a constant source of turmoil and frustration? Personally, I do not want to become consumed by bitterness and anger. Yes the aforementioned person has wronged me more times than I could ever possibly even remember, but regardless, for my own sake, I do not want to be bitter and angry all the time. How is that I may be patient and understanding? I feel as though I have tolerated the person's ignorance, selfishness, and foolishness for long enough. Is there an end in sight? Certainly there must be, but what to do until that point?

I have recently been thinking about fear. It seems to be a common theme throughout my thoughts and my writing. I'm wondering though if it is in fact the human condition to possess fear. What I mean is this: Are we all innately inclined to be afraid and therefore often allow our fears to control our lives; is fear an effect and our society the cause; or are some people simply impervious to fear, and if so, how can that possibly be?

I'm inclined to believe that we are all subject to fear at some point, and the reason for that is because we live in a fallen world. I suppose that sounds cliche to some, but i earnestly believe that is the truth. In view of that, how do we combat our fears? To some, fear is a cruel tyrant, callously ruining lives. To others, it is nothing more than a vague memory. How is it the strong survive though? How are they able to defeat their fear and win back the freedom to live their own lives?

It's over now. Finally. Nearly two years later I have the papers and I am officially divorced. To a degree saying that sounds almost as if it's a dirty word...something that would draw harsh glares and lots of "shushing" from the prim and proper society crowd. No amount of shushing or sweeping it under the rug will make it go away though. It's there and it's real. It is a scar I shall bear forever. As I sit here sifting through the intense emotions I'm feeling, I know that I finally have freedom that I never before possessed. Yet there is still a sadness, guilt, complex fears, hurt, joy, jubilation, doubt, and certainly exhaustion that all overwhelms me. I am not certain of how to compartmentalize these feelings. I think it would be foolish to simply dismiss them and brush them aside. Dealing with them head on is the way to go. That much I have learned.

I know that to some I shall always bear a scarlet "A", but I cannot control what people think of me. Moving past that desire to want approval from people is challenging though for someone like me who earnestly wants to please everyone. That brings me to another lesson I have learned...that the only one I need to worry about pleasing is my God. That is something to which I must hold onto tenaciously.

There are also several looming fears...that I will forever be alone for one, and the other being that I have made a terrible mistake. I realize that what's done is done. Nothing can or will change the past. My only option is to move forward and not dwell on what might have been or what was. If I can manage to do that, I think I will also be able to move past the guilt I feel over this whole debacle. I know in my heart that I made the right decision. I have discussed it at length with many people whom I consider to be wise counsel. I've also spent much time praying about this issue as well. I always come to the same conclusion...that leaving was the right thing, but regardless, I'm still left feeling responsible for hurting someone terribly. Then I worry that I am destined to always be failure in relationships...that I'll always hurt someone and I will just be left sad and lonely.

Then there's the absolute ecstasy of finally being able to close this chapter of my life. It has been SUCH a long process. I want to leave it all behind. I don't know what that means exactly or what it looks like...but I know I need to be able to get a fresh start. I am making steps toward what I think that might be. I need to breathe for a while and relish in this freedom.

Something...

Maybe it's me, or rather something about me. Maybe the something is nothing. I'm not sure anymore to be honest. I know that I often feel that something is missing though, as if I am incomplete. I don't know exactly how to identify that void. All I can think is that I do not belong. I have yet to find that place that is made for me. I no longer have a home to which I can return when my world collapses all around me. I have only a room in a place that I rent. My family, small though it may be, is not only a bit scattered, but has also become somewhat of an enigma this past year. My world has changed drastically, and I cannot seem to find a place to rest. It is as though I am constantly treading water. Occasionally someone will come along, and I think perhaps this person is different. Maybe he's safe. Maybe I can cling to him. This has yet to be true. They're all the same, and I remain just another girl to each of them. I realize that this bears no reflection on my worth as an individual. It's just that I want to be chosen by someone. I want a place to finally just be. I want that security. I don't want to go it alone anymore. I want something more. As patience is not a virtue that I really seem to possess, perhaps God is trying His hardest to teach it to me. Most days I am completely fine. Others, ahh...what I wouldn't get to have a place to call home.