Category: Reflections

Whether a story was written in the past, written today, set in the future, or in another realm, they connect with us when we can relate to them. In fact, we become more engaged in the story when there is a familiarity or bond with the characters and the conflicts.

When characters go through something we’ve gone through before, a connection is made by how it speaks to our humanity. Our humanity is not just a set of experiences, but ones that revolve around themes–or values. Those themes can be about good and evil, truth and deception, triumph or suffering, etc.

When we make connections with the characters, we see ourselves in their shoes. We become invested in their plight, become part of the story. We hope nothing bad happens to the protagonist, that the conclusion will be a positive one. When this happens, the story has an almost mysterious bond with our psyche. It’s as if that fictional world has become a reality–a world that is like our own not in concrete terms, but in universal ones.

It’s great to have hobbies such as playing a game, reading, writing, or collecting things. But what happens when that hobby becomes more than just a hobby? What happens when it takes over, consuming more and more of our time?

For one, it’s important to keep to our priorities, to focus on what we need to accomplish first. Hobbies should be relegated to “pastimes”, things we do when there is extra time on our schedule. However, that doesn’t limit what they might become. A hobby might take hold of us, such as when we stay up late to read a book (or a series), or when a short story turns into a novel–which turns into a series.

When hobbies start to take over, I don’t think the issue is with the hobby itself, but with our time management. It’s great if a book captures our imagination, or if a story project expands beyond what we could’ve ever imagined. But all that means is that we’re spending more time on them for a greater length of time. What would’ve been a two or three week endevaor might turn into months–or years.

From the day we’re born, we learn about the world. From the first step we take, we learn to walk. And all the days after, we learn from our parents, school, and society. And after we graduate and earn a degree, our education doesn’t end there. We learn to how to land a job.

We learn that the workplace is much different from the academic courses we took. Everything in school seemed to be theoretical, whereas in the workplace, it is practical–highly specialized. There, we adapt to how the company operates, how it runs. It takes time: weeks, months, and years to become expert in our field.

But even as we gain work experience, we will learn about things outside of work: moving, how to live alone, paying bills, and how to be social in new environments. And if we have children, we learn to be good, caring parents. And as time goes by, we take on new hobbies, change jobs, and plan for retirement–all of which require learning.

And as the world changes, we learn from the news, from reading books, online articles, etc. We are constantly refining our worldview, our beliefs, our view of humanity. And with each year we live, we add another year of experience. And what awaits is another year to learn.

I believe that real memories come from direct, personal experience. Memories that did not have a virtual source, but had a tangible, environmental component to them.

It’s different from the experience we have when watching a movie, browsing the internet, playing a game, or reading. Those can bring enjoyment, and bring awareness and knowledge to us, but they lack the kind of interaction we could only experience when we’re in an environment.

Real memories are the ones that we return to–often think about from our past. They are unique in that they cannot be recreated. They can be memories of a vacation we went on, a gathering with friends 10 or 20 years ago, or a conversation we had with someone that broadened our perspective and wisdom. It could even be something we saw in nature, such as the way the sun lit the waters, or the view from a mountain top.

Sometimes we get caught up focusing on our mistakes and failures. It’s hard to look ahead when we’re focused on negativity and all the things that went wrong on past projects.

A disappointment can be a stepping stone to something greater, however. That disappointment taught us what we needed to know for the future, including how to handle difficulties, our mistakes, and how to face challenges ahead.

When we look at things this way, the failure wasn’t really a failure. It was an education into what we needed to learn to grow, to succeed going forward. We learn to avoid the mistakes of the past, and to apply what works and is effective into our next endeavor.

We pursue goals in the hopes of achieving them. They could lead to material success, the accomplishment of great works, or winning competitive games.

When we achieve our goals, we celebrate them as if everything is complete–over. Eventually, the moment of victory fades. Our success doesn’t give us the same feeling of happiness it once did. It’s as if there should’ve been more.

Soon, we find another goal to pursue, something else to give us a sense of purpose. But each time we cross the finish line (i.e. achieve our goal), a new race is about to start. A new challenge is ahead.

Thus, the finish line is just a measure of ourselves. We’re not meant to just cross it. We’re meant to keep going, better ourselves, and grow in the process.

Being conflicted can feel not knowing which path to take at a fork on the road. It’s as if both paths are equally valid, yet, there is only one path to take. Knowing all the facts about them, including where they lead to and how treacherous they are, would make the decision easy and simple. But we often have to make a choice when all of the information isn’t available.

And thus, major decisions in life are made like this. Opportunities without a clear path, without certainty and a clear destination ahead. Choices that can alter the course of our lives. We feel conflicted because we want to make the right choice, but it’s as if we must act on faith.

Distractions can keep up us from focusing on what we need to do. It can keep us from being productive, creative, and accomplished.

In order to free ourselves from distractions, we must remove the distractions from our space. If that’s not possible, we must be somewhere where there are no distractions. For some people, distractions can be sounds or visuals. For other people, they can be their own thoughts.

Those thoughts can take up mental space, mental energy. They can be about something we want to buy, or an idea that has been pressing on our mind. To free ourselves from these, we need to block them out–focus on the task at hand. We must not give them the emphasis and attention they seek. We need our mind to be on a single track. We need to have tunnel vision.

If you’re a subscriber to a store or a company, you’ll be inundated with emails on their sales and deals. 50% off. 2 for 3. Buy 1 get 1 50% off. All of these are great marketing pitches. You’ll probably even get flyers in the mail with coupons and special (exclusive) deals.

The temptation to buy things is much greater the more you’re exposed to them. Besides, how else are the businesses supposed to make their money without exposure? How else are people supposed to know what sales they have to offer?

But caving into buying into these sales/deals depends on our perspective. Although it can take a great amount of effort to delay buying the things we want, eventually, we’ll end up buying them (sooner or later). But if our perspective is, “I don’t need it,” or “I already have it,” or “It’s a waste of money,” then there is no temptation to buy it. It’s as if the sales and deals went through one ear and out the other.

There are periods in our life where we go through a reset. It’s like when a game doesn’t work on the old Nintendo. We push the reset button to get it to work. In the same way, we hit the reset button philosophical, psychologically–start over and play again.

The reset is like a Copernican revolution of the things we had believed, or the things we had assumed to be true. Maybe we didn’t have it all right.

It can occur after a sudden realization at a random moment, or after going through an unexpected trial. It’s as if God stirred us from our slumber, woke us up, made us realize something that was amiss–something that we had been oblivious to.

When this happens, we start to reassess everything we had believed in. We investigate all the premises, the flaws, the shortcomings, and then start to dismantle the infrastructure. After countless hours of online research, internal reflection, and reading copious amounts of literature and books, we come to an epiphany that we had things wrong–that we didn’t have everything figured out.

There’s always tweaking we have to do with our vision, our life, our philosophical or religious perspective. Just like with writing a book, we have to edit each page, perfect it, get it right. That’s why there’s that saying it’s not about the destination, but the journey.