Team Light

"Every moment of light and dark is a miracle."

-Walt Whitman

During Christmas day mass, the priest discussed an idea of light vs. dark. He theorized and pondered why people weigh darker times so much more greatly than the happier times, the light.

I used to forbid myself from ever looking back, and allowed myself to encompass my present alone. I used my past as a threat, a machine gun, and constantly wondered how anyone could enjoy looking back or desire to look back. And then I thought of archaeologist, a person who concentrates on humanity based on recollections from the past. If one could study humanity based on the past, then maybe looking back must have some sort of beneficial factors.

Like an archaeologist, I dissected items from humanity, my humanity. I reminisced over my old guitars, my old journal, even gifts and more from people who have fallen in and out of my life. Looking back made me see that even in the darkest times, you can find light. Light can be seen even in a broken circle, not everything has to be complete and secure in order to be a joyous occasion. Even within the heartbreak, the friends that fell in and out, the trust given and broken, the promises made and not fulfilled, even in the darkest times you can find light. Because like an archaeologist, looking back made me realize and remember that past all the bitter dark memories, at one point, I was happy.

At one point, there was light.

Happy Anniversary (War is Over)

Last week marked the kick-start to some of my favorite heart-warming holidays from Thanksgiving, Christmas, to a year anniversary with

that kid.

That kid who knew my past, and about my battle versus it. My past, like a prevailing force that always reminded me, always scared and taunted me about trust and relationships that have come and gone. My past that held a machine gun against any future relationship that embarked my way. Maybe I let my past control the machine gun; maybe I hid myself behind my past as a cover to why I should not trust and expose myself to any new relationship entering my path.

That kid knew my past, and unlike me, he fought back. Fought back against the army of broken friendships and hearts that were plotting to tear down any trust I had left. Fought back against every line and excuse I spoke to keep space between him and I, the space I flashed as a weapon to keep me safe from another possible broken friendship and heart.

That kid knew my past, and he did not let me use it as a weapon. He continually recites how he will be the one to prove me wrong, how he will not join forces with the army of broken friendships and hearts that are against me, the army of people who were once on my side.

That kid knew my past, and a week ago he won.

"Let's hope it's a good one without any fear.

War is over, if you want it. War is over now."

-John Lennon

Happy Anniversary, Elliot Ted Mondragon; the war is over.

The Clash of Transformations

October 19, 2011: that is what my school declared as fall break, a four-day release of pure, and utter freedom. October 19, 2011: that is what I declared as my third visit back home, a four-day release of pure, and utter nostalgia. Freedom and nostalgia, both separate and yet the same. Separate and yet the same like a collision, a Clash of Civilizations, or better yet, a clash of transformations.

While Huntington’s The Clash of Civilizations theorizes a future conflict between cultures, my clash of transformations theorizes my college life conflicting with my past. Like country-line barriers, the barrier between my life as a college girl and my life as a daddy’s girl practically repel against one another. I had felt like a complete and total stranger in my own home. And before I knew it, I found myself questioning the meaning of home. Because in this clash of transformations, the college girl had her city and the daddy’s girl had her suburbs.

A good friend of mine once shared that, “Life and people sometimes don’t mix. Times and trials and health and maturity sometimes make it impossible for two people who might be perfect together to communicate and operate and treat each other with respect just because they’re in two different places in life.” My friend and I were confiding in each other about our past, including of course, relationships! And when reminiscing about our past relationships, we both concluded that the quote above could be a possible explanation for why people come and go, which has always been a giant question mark in my book. But while concluding why people come and go, the quote above also revealed to me some insight to what I consider my clash of transformations.

Like stated above, “Life and people sometimes don’t mix… just because they’re in two different places in life.” That’s just it. I’m not saying there’s no way to settle the conflict between the college girl and the daddy’s girl, but rather, the college girl and the daddy’s girl are just in two different places in life. And while, “life and people sometimes don’t mix”, sometimes life and people do mix. The college girl will always have her free city and the daddy’s girl will always have her nostalgic suburbs; and I will always have both and call them my home.