Eyes of a Sage

1. Introduction

         I view myself as having two sides to my being. There is the basic knowledge side -my name, my likes and dislikes- and then there is my deep side -my thoughts and views on life. I don't like people knowing both sides. You either get one or the other. I suppose it’s to keep an air of mystery about me. I don't want people trying to figure out who I am when I don't even know that.

         So why the title? Eyes are indeed the windows to the soul, and are also the recorders of life. You can hear, taste, and feel life, but seeing it is truly believing. I always wanted to see everything the world has to offer. I want to write about everything, draw everything I see, but I know it's impossible. Everything can't be seen, known, felt, or reasoned. A fraction of the world is in existence, the rest is just slightly fathomable.

         In a way it reminds me of that saying, "stop and smell the roses." Anyone could stop to smell them, but no one could smell them all; it isn't possible. I would like to be able to, to know everything life has to offer, but that's not how it works. It's a giant game, and enjoyment, that many take for advantage. We each are given a select piece of it, and must figure where it goes.

         The reason I am writing this I guess is that it brings release to write what we know. I encourage all to write what they know, no matter how foolish it sounds. It might sound stupid at first, but it will be a regret when the knowledge is forgotten. I don't want to forget this. I write this to allow myself release, to offer what wisdom I might have to others, and maybe gain a little insight to the world and myself. No soul holds the key to life, but many souls combined might catch a glimpse of it.

         Facts about me are not important; they don't matter. I was born in 1985, on March 25, to a small family in Massachusetts. I have no siblings, only a mother. I grew up fairly normal. I’m very close to my little family, and I have a small group of friends that I hang out with constantly. Not to say that my world is perfect, though. I do like change.

         There isn't much to say about my family, considering this writing is about me, but there has to be something said. I love them dearly, and they love me back. For a long time I was the baby of the family. It sort of was my accomplishment in a way. My other cousins are older, smarter, more athletic, and all of that. I’m not the youngest anymore, so now I have no real claim in my family. I have no achievements.

         Growing up is weird like that. You find in your life that there are places you won't fit in, certain age groups that leave gaps between them. It's like that when you're a teen going into adulthood. I’m not ignorant or immature, and I’m not wise and respected. Different crowds view you in certain lights, but there is never an equal shower of luminescence.


         My family sort of works like that. It's hard to see, and I don't know if others do, but it's like that with many families. There are levels of achievement and respect. You strive to be the top, and in my family, my grandfather is the top. It's clear, and he deserves it. WW2 veteran, retired mail-man, and a good hearted 85 year old, my grandfather reigns in my family.

         My relationship has grown since I first wrote this. Before I said there wasn‘t much there, that we barely talked or even noticed each other. Not that we didn‘t love each other or something like that, but I just was still a child it seemed. Now that I help take care of him, his house and his garden in his old age, I think I’ve earned some respect and some place in my family.

         There are three things about my family that have shaped me into who I am today. First is the fact that I was raised without a father. I never met him. Twenty years old and I don't know who my father is. I will never know because now I don’t need him. Most people find it shocking. They wonder why I don't ask my mother who he is. But they don't understand it. Not knowing him has made me who I am, and for better or worse, I am happy with who I am. I can gain nothing worth keeping from knowing the slightest thing about him. It doesn't seem logical to some, but even things you don't know make you who you are.

         You can reflect on things after the wounds have healed. That’s how I deal with not knowing my father. It was painful growing up, not really feeling like a boy and eventually wondering if I could become a man. Society just puts so much emphasis on how you should appear to the world. I didn’t have anyone to teach me how to play sports or how to shave or anything like that, but I still managed. I realized that you can’t always blame others, either.

         The second event in my life that really made me who I am was my grandmother's death. I remember the night she died. It was six years ago on March 3, a Wednesday, a little past midnight. I was in bed when the phone rang. My mom answered, and I could tell by her tone that something was wrong. My grandmother was in the hospital with pneumonia. She wasn't doing too good. She was in a kind of coma from what I understood. I remember visiting her and feeling so sad. When my mom was off the phone, then I came into her room. She told me grandma died, and I just laid in my mom's bed for half an hour not knowing what to do or even think.

         I felt lost without her; I still do. It was like losing my best friend. Towards the end I had taken care of her. I was the closest grandchild to her, and I spent so much time cooking for her, going for walks with her, and just watching her when her memory started to go. She was a wonderful person. It hurts to see someone who helped raise you become so foreign and helpless in your world.

         Her death bathed my world in something new: I had an understanding of death. Before I never thought about it, never questioned it. I knew it was there but I didn't understand its purpose. I suppose I still don't, but I am closer to understanding. I know its powers and desires, and I respect it now. I don't hate it like I used to when my grandmother first died; I now fear it.

         When she died so many questions were stirred up in me. So many beliefs ran through me, and I lost so much. I felt so shattered, broken, and empty. I questioned everything, which I fear might have cost me more than I can ever make up. I lost my faith over it. I don't believe in God anymore. Maybe some day I can again, but now I can't. Now I don't see how he could exist, how he could let so much happen that causes so much pain and suffering. It seems weird to think about it. There is something greater out there, I can feel it, but what it is or how powerful it is I may never know; no one may ever know.

         The third event is the death of my aunt Diane. She passed away on November 12 three years ago. After my grandmother, there is no doubt she was the second to touch my life so beautifully. A chapter in my life had ended on that day. It started with the death of my grandmother and it closed with the death of my aunt. I have found new beliefs, new truths and thoughts, and new understandings and wants in life. It took one death to create them and another one to secure them. I'm happy with what is inside me now, but I feel guilty that I found these truths in others’ deaths. Maybe I shouldn't for I can not help it, but I am human and feel things that I can not control.

         It seems my family has unfairly been hit hard with sufferings for the past years. I weep that they have touched me, but more so that they have touched the rest of my family. How much evil must be done for a message to be found? How much suffering was be given so that a hint of light can be caught? Life works in divine enigmas, and I should not question such things.

         The only people I feel that come close to understanding me are my friends. Not that they know everything about me or will ever, but I feel safe and welcomed with them. That’s what friends do. They remind you there is still good to enjoy while you are alive. They make you feel young and important know matter how old or depressed you are. I wasn’t that popular in school though I did get along with everyone, but I have only four friends I would really consider close.

         The fourth event to really affect my life still seems out of reality. It was the death of my friend Robby. He was only 18 years old. He suffered for two years fighting leukemia and even beat it once, but it came back and worse. He was too good of a person to have to deal with it and didn't deserve to suffer. He shouldn't have died so young. I knew him since elementary school. We were fairly close as kids, but I feel horrible that I can't say we stayed close through the years. Sometimes, people just grow apart. I wish it never happened, but it did. It doesn't seem right that the first of my friends should die at 18. He was too young.

         Never have I wanted peace so greatly before, but never have I known that it shall and can never be. I know the boundaries of my existence, now. I can try to cross them, but what good will that do? For no matter how hard I push, I can not move the walls of Fate. Life exists by a combination of dark and light, never by one alone. I will not know a greater beauty than Life, but maybe I can recognize Death as a beauty just as great.




2. The Mind

         I respect the powers of the mind. What I mean by this is I understand how powerful knowledge, or lack there of is. I know how soothing or traumatizing memories can be. I recognize that our mind is what makes us human, that separates us from the other animals. It is fulfilling to learn knowledge and expand your mind, but at the same time it can seem empty.

         Even though I love knowledge, I can't find the way to love school again. I used to love it, but I don't anymore, I can't. To me it's all unimportant. All the knowledge we learn in school is inevitably useless, because it will never make us a better person in life, just in society. We strive to be accepted and to get the greatest education that we can, but in the end it's useless.

         I still want a good education. I know I need it to survive in society, but I don't work for it. I can't be the complete A's on my report card kind of person that I used to be. I'm happy with C's and B's now, and I get even worse sometimes. I don't do homework anymore, and I pass in reports late. I just can't help but feel that I'm wasting my time with school.

         Education is wonderful, but it's not everlasting; wisdom is everlasting. What I crave is wisdom. What I long for, search for, endlessly hope for is wisdom. Simple facts of who was the first president of the U.S., how many bones does a human body have, what is the cube root of 8257, or who wrote A Tale of Two Cities just seems too pointless to me. That's the kind of information you know for a bonus, for interest or boredom, but not to remind yourself you‘re human. If you major in one of those fields than it is fine to want to know that stuff, but I feel that we aimlessly follow knowledge and then we realize too late it leads us away from our purpose.

         There truly are intelligent people and wise people. Intelligent people want all the erudite information and knowledge they can gather, while wise people want experience and philosophy, views and feelings. They are complete opposite, but yet they coexist in peace. I do find knowledge fascinating at time, but overwhelming to say the least. I just feel that by wanting such great knowledge of facts, one can be mislead and restrained from the truth. I lust for the truth. I lust for it so badly, that I bring suffering to myself, but still I push on more.

         School is strange to describe. It is necassary, but not to the point where it should be the focus of one's lives. It can be fun and useful, but teachers make it so boring these days, seeming to forget the beauty of knowledge and just endlessly preaching fact after fact in hopes that one might settle into a student's brain.

         Knowledge is a beautiful thing, that should be honored and respected, loved and feared. It can create great people while at the same time ruin civilization. I guess that might be my greatest concern with it. People don’t have enough respect for their mind and what it can create.

         The mind is also important in that it’s the recorder of our lives. It stores all we will ever know as memories. These are beautiful things that can be used in both evil and good ways. While we should learn from our memories, reflecting on them in understanding that we are mortal, we are also scared of our pasts and events that have held dark meanings. We’d like to think that we have control of what we want to remember and how to remember it, but our mind is more powerful than many give credit for.

         I have two memories that I can claim as my oldest, though I am unsure which is indeed the older. The first is the image of myself being in a hospital, in a crib in a corner, with other kids in the room. I can remember leaving the hospital in a wheel chair. This was for my hernia operation. The other memory is an image of a church, the inside large and beautiful, and me sitting with my aunt and uncles. I was told that this was the funeral of my great grandmother.

         I could ask my mother which is older, but I don't want to. Part of the beauty of the memories is that I don't know which is older, that I don't know when they are from. They are like hallucinations that don't leave my head, but yet they are so close to palpable. There is just something about not really knowing them that makes them even more special. This can be one of the greatest things about memories. They can span over our lifetime and become so intertwined in who we are that they become both past, present and future.

         It's weird that we don't remember our earliest memories of life. It makes sense in a way I suppose. Minds aren't all that developed when we're born, so they are changing and losing thoughts. But it's weird to live a part of your life and then forget it. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I don't remember my early years. When I look at photographs I can remember other events, but these are the only two from such early on that are stuck in my head without aid. . It's sad that we won't remember all our memories, that they slowly fade from out thoughts with untouched grace.

         I don't know if it's my memories that spark it or my dreams, but I get 'deja vu' almost everyday. There would be times when I would be driving in a car, or playing somewhere, and I would be overcome with a feeling of this already existing. It wasn't just the place that would make it, but the actions of myself and others, the presences of others, and the conversations around me. It was like I had predicted these in my dreams. I could never place the old feeling with it actually happening, but rather with that of a dream. My mind plays tricks on me like that. But maybe they aren’t tricks, after all.

         I have a very powerful mind, and a very powerful imagination. Not everyone seems to have as strong as an imagination. I’ve only talked to a few that can relate. I can not read scary books because of my imagination. My mind and body becomes filled with feelings, hauntings of the words and images and I can't finish the story. It is too much for me, an overwhelming horror of emotion, and it pains me to read on. I can't watch scary movies for the same reason. My mind becomes distracted; I imagine the actions becoming real, but beyond real. A kind of real that I could exist in, that is unknowingly existing parallel to reality.

         I'm a slow reader, but I know it's not because I have reading problems. I have imagery problems, or for a better showing, I have too strong of imagery understanding. Such little specks of imagery can paint vivid paintings in my head. Such vivid use of imagery can paint such paintings that my mind, not to my want, wanders off and explores these worlds, leaving me in a daze of a reading. I often find myself having to reread certain passages because on my first attempt I was kidnapped by my imagination and transported into a world of living words and vivid senses.

         It is beautiful to see the worlds of writings and words unfold in my mind, but it is haunting to live them in my thoughts. For when I watch such movies on war and tragedies, I become empty inside. I imagine them as real against my want, and my soul aches for this. I feel too much and see too much, and I am tortured by such a vivid and unquenched view of the world.

         In life there are many things that our souls and minds can dwell on. We can raise questions on anything, or have endless memories of certain times. People these days try to hide their thoughts and feelings. They use medicine and therapy to get rid of the 'problems' in their lives, when really those 'problems' are their lives. No thought is pointless. No feeling is empty. They think it's normal to not feel these things, these sufferings and pains, these thoughts and emotions, and they condemn those who are not the same. Those who are not afraid to say what they feel, who don't live in society's perfect picture, who question things that 'should not be questioned' are the normal ones. They are life, and they are the ones who are living.




3. Inspiration

         Truthfully, I have not read many books, so I can not say they are my main source of inspiration. But there is one book that has probably influenced me the most, and that book is The Hobbit. Many might not understand the importance, or rather misunderstand. I can not explain this book in the slightest. It is well worth the read, I assure you that. Most people think that the beauty of it is that it shows how even the smallest of mans can be a great hero, but I see it deeper.

         To me The Hobbit shows such a deep love of life that shall never be known. There is creativity in every passage, wonder in every sentence, and beauty in every word. The imagery, the feeling, the meanings, and the plot are forever intertwined as an endless tale of life, death, and mortality.

         Fantasy, in my opinion, is more than the power of the imagination creating endless thoughts, but rather of a mind that understands life and the world so great that it can spread its beliefs into new worlds, new creatures, new beliefs. It's like the releasing of beauty from one realm to another while not losing a drop of purity. When an author creates a new world, it is not only about escaping the world they live in, but rather spreading that world into new canvases of emptiness and void. It's not just a creation of something new, but a rebirth of something old.

         All this inspiration and all that I have learned is poured into my artwork and writing. It is my channel of release. I want to paint everything I see, draw everything I know, and write about everything I feel. I want to live everything I can see, taste, feel, and hear. I don't want to watch life, I want to be it. I want to live in the arts, be painted in shades of truth, drawn in lines of passion, and sculpted with clay of innocence.

         My art is my passion, my expression, and my knowledge. It is how my feelings, thoughts, and memories are recorded. It is more than an outlet, an escape; it is a calling, a release, a guide in life. Whether with words or design, my art is as much as a part of me as I am a part of my art.

         My first passion in art was drawing. When I was little I would draw anything and everything. Of course it moved on to shading, and then painting, and now other medias. I really enjoy photography now. Art isn't a hobby to me. A hobby is something you do to kill time. Art, to me, is something I do to make time. It's a recording of moments and passages in my life.

         A few years back, maybe five or so, I took up poetry. It started off as just an experiment at first. Simple words rhyming as jokes in poems. But then I developed a skill of word use, of expression through imagery, of putting feeling and thought into phrases. It came from my love of music and lyrics, and developed into my collection of poetry as in my portfolio. My poetry is different, though. I don't think many understand the meaning in my poems. I cover them up with fancy words, sweet sounds, and flowing phrases. And even if they do, they can't feel what I can feel. They can't understand its truth. So is the pain of being the writer, as many of you readers know.

         I suppose I could mention love as one of my inspirations, though quite an odd one indeed. Love is a beautiful, powerful, and haunting thing. It can seal, heal, and break hearts. It can lift, lower, and bury spirits. Even so, I do not know well of it. I know the love of my friends, the love of my family, and the love of life, but I am still lacking the romantic love. I have no girlfriend or wife, but maybe someday. I suppose it’s this wanting to be complete, to feel that I deserve someone and someone deserves me that makes it an inspiration in my writing and artwork.

         There isn't much to say about love as an inspiration. You can't describe it to someone who doesn't know it, and to those who know it they don't need it described. It isn't really like another feeling, like being sad or happy or mad or scared. Love is a feeling of its own, set away from others. It can't just disappear, or be overcome by another feeling. It is just something you know when you find it.

         To me, nature is the most beautiful thing in the world and my greatest inspiration. It outshines all my other inspirations. It is also the only thing that a soul can rely on. It is constant and everlasting, changing and forming, spreading and growing, touching and reaching across boundaries of life. Not many people have a love for nature anymore; I do. It's my life, my greatest inspiration, my greatest knowledge, my closest friend, my healing source, and my creator.

         There is beauty in every creation of nature. They all possess such purity of life, such untouched desires and cores. They aren't tainted with knowledge, with passion, with thoughts and feelings. They are simple forming with time. They are complex still, but they aren't overflowing with it. They don't worship themselves, but rather life. They know not of corruptionthey only know life.

         Unfortunately, the truth is that nature creates mankind and mankind destroys it. A sad thought it is indeed. Nature is fuel, a source of life. It isn't just for admiring, but it is also for honoring. We can honor some great God, fellow mortals as actors and athletes, as lovers and family, as friends and companions, but we can't honor Nature? Even sadder if you ask me.




4. Death

         Everything before deals with things I will know in my life. They have answers that I can find, truth to them that I can accept, and can endure no matter what else I know. They can't be altered or misbelieved. They are simple, acceptable, and justified. What is after this part may never be any of these things, though I wish it was different.

         There are things in life that I may never want to happen. There are things that I will try to hide from, try to keep away. There is though only one thing I fear, and that is death. I'll know no other fear like I will know the fear of death.

         Death is the darkest thing in existence. It is the worst pain in life, the deepest of sad thoughts, and most haunting of any truth. It is the one thing in life that may never be answered; it can not be answered. No mortal will ever know what death is really, all we will know is that we all fall victim to its power. Even then, we may never know what death is.

         I don't know what to think of death. When I was little, I believed in God and didn't think of death. Then I didn't believe in God and I feared death. As I grew older, I didn't believe in anything and I questioned death. Now I believe in everything and I respect death. I still fear it. I fear Death more than words can say, but I have a respect for it, a kind of respect that comes with understanding life.

         My fear of death comes from not knowing what it means to die. The answer isn't something a mortal can know, but it is something I seek. A part of me accepts that I can't find the answer while I live, but I still search for it. It's a sin to, a sin against life, but I can't help it. I am tainted with my want for the truth, but also driven by this want. It feeds my knowledge, creates my wisdom, and gives me inspiration.

         Maybe there is afterlife after death. Maybe there is a God and a Heaven, a devil and a hell. Maybe there is a Buddha, or another god, or something greater. Maybe there is the Elysian fields and Hades waiting for those who die, or maybe there is a quiet and serene realm for souls to go when death comes. I hope there is afterlife, not just for my sake, but more for everyone else's sake. I am living a good life, but for those that die young, who die in such sad ways, in wars and tragedies, they deserve afterlife. Everyone deserves afterlife. No one deserves death.

         I fear, though, that afterlife may not exist. Afterlife is hard to explain. It makes sense that it should exist, but yet sense that it shouldn't. It seems fit to say that either could exist after life. I don't think many can understand what no afterlife would be like; I myself can barely fathom it. It's no existence, no being, lost forever. It is the darkest feeling and knowledge if true, or just a good laugh if not. It scares me to think that this might be the answer, that all this time I have been looking for truth in death and it is standing right in front of me. If so, it is the darkest shadow my eyes will ever set gaze upon.

         I fear death, but I also fear fading. I don't want to live a life of no purpose, just so one day I can die. So many people live and die, fading away, forever lost from mortal acknowledgement. I don't want that. I don't want to be famous either. I want to touch lives before I die. I want to have a purpose, a reason for life and a reason for death.

         I use to think that we all should die at a certain age, that everyone should live evenly, but I know that is pointless. I now just hope that we all die at a certain point in our lives, a point where we are not afraid of death, where we can accept it for the beauty that it does bring. It seems like it doesn't happen. With so many people dying at such different ages and times in their lives, it seems like many have not accepted Death. Maybe inside they have, deep inside. Even they may not be aware of it. That is what I can hope for. Nothing can take away my hope, not even death.

         Death justifies nothing and answers nothing. It is not something that a mortal can give out, can justify as the right thing to do. It is Nature's own child, and only Nature and life can give death, not mortals.

         When I think about it, I am reminded of that line from a Queen song: "Mama, I don't want to die. Sometimes I wish I'd never been born at all."




5. Life

         I don't know when I started looking for the meaning of life; probably a few years back after my grandmother died. I thought I found it many times, but I was wrong. It changed with new wisdom, new thoughts and beliefs. It's what everyone wants to know, but maybe none are able to handle.

         I will never know everything there is to know in life; I will never know what no mortal can know. I will live for a purpose I can't explain, that no one can, but I will still live. I will love life for no matter what it is. Life is me, in my soul, in my mind, and in my heart. I wasn't created to live it, I was created to be it. Life is what we were given, our gift from existence. I will never forget this, no matter how buried I become in wisdom and knowledge. I may fade when I die, but life will never fade from my soul.

         I want peace for the world. A simple thought indeed, but it is my dream. It is the gift that I owe the world for giving me life. It seems weird to say this is my only dream. It isn't a dream that I share alone, but it is a dream that I have great passion for. It pains me to see others hurt and suffering. It makes me empty inside. I want people to have peace. I want them to know life and its beauty.

         I want peace for the world, but I know it won't happen. I know this because it is not living without pain. You need pain and suffering to live as much as you need peace and happiness. That is life, a combination of all feelings, emotions, thoughts, and beings. That is existence. What creates life is everything, from the shade to the light and back again: a continuous cycle.

         There may never be an end to this piece. My thoughts won't end. They will live on forever in my soul, in my mind, in my heart. My views will change with age, with experience, with feelings and life. I accept that I won't know an end in life. An end would mean that I have every answer I need, every want fulfilled and every dream lived. No mortal can have any of those, let alone them all. There isn't an answer for everything. Sometimes the answers aren't worth finding. These are just things you know, things you will understand in life. I may not admit it at times, but deep inside I understand why. That’s just how life is.

         My life is strange and odd. I'm special in ways, normal in others, and pathetic in the remaining. I'm human, nothing more, nothing less. I can't pass judgment, I can't give pain, and I can't watch suffering. I can feel and think, but I can't control myself. I am a wanderer of life, aimlessly and hopelessly. I go where I am called. I have dreams and wants, but I am confined to mortal rules, to nature's rules, and to life's rules. I am not predestined, but I am not free-lived. There are paths, endless and winding, that I follow, but I can stray.

         The meaning is thus: Life is for savoring, for living as it is. It is beauty. Nothing in the world can compare to it. Not even death or afterlife can match it. It spreads its arms and holds every creature closely, and it never lets go.

         Many will search for something greater, some deeper meaning, but they will not find it. We are not given life to serve others. We are not given life to worship anything. We are not given life to ponder our existence. We are given life to live. We are to enjoy the world, enjoy creation, and enjoy ourselves. We will learn much in our time, we will travel far and see many things, but in the end it is the same. We lived our journeys, and we pay the price.

         Those who read this are probably disappointed. People seek some truth that seems hard and deep, when really the answers are simple. They are what we want them to be. If afterlife exists, we will know. If it doesn't, we will never know. Either way we will be in peace. The meaning of life is like that. It isn't one meaning for all of us to follow, but rather thousands bound together by truth. I wasn't given life to question it; I was given life to accept it. I will never know the truth, but I know it exists, and that is the meaning of life.