Miscellaneous

What’s in a name?

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Well it’s been over a week. It’s the Holidays you know, there’s more to think about, also I have other writing projects I work on besides this blog.

This may or may not be surprising, but blogging is the way I get out my more intellectual ideas and explore real life phenomenon. My real passion in writing is fiction. I love making stuff up. Writing about my own life usually bores me after awhile. Maybe because not too many things have happened to me yet. When you spend most of your time at home, even little things become important, but it doesn’t mean they’d be interesting to anyone else.

An interesting thing that happened last week was I looked myself up on the internet. Of course I can’t be specific, but I found out that a lot of people share my name, my fuller name that is (I knew there were other Natashas already.) And some interesting people have my name. I wouldn’t necessarily trade places with them, but one happens to be a writer of sorts, what are the odds?

It got me thinking about names. Some people think certain names give you certain characteristics. This may be true. In the Bible there’s a story about a guy who’s name meant “fool” and that’s what he was. But then there’s names that mean pretty basic things, like a plant or even a kind of metal, and you can’t say a person will become like that can you?

Maybe it’s all in why you choose a name for something. Plants that are given names thrive better, if the names are good. Naming anything makes you get more fond of it, unless you give it a name to express your contempt. We’ve probably all seen, or read about, or encountered a bully who nicknames their victim something awful, and it demoralizes them. We  know that what you label someone slants your view of them.

You’d think with all our knowledge we’d learn to be careful about what we call people, but knowledge never makes anyone careful unless they are careful already, by nature. I am fortunate to have good names, and very few people have ever nicknamed me, and eve fewer have nicknamed me something bad. But it only takes one time to teach you how much it stings. The worst thing is if you start believing what they call you.

I actually like to nickname people, and usually I don’t do it with an intent to annoy them, but I used to. (To my siblings.) So I’m well aware of how easy it is to start using this power of words the wrong way. And there are many wrong  ways, this is just one of them. I don’t want to hate on anyone reading who’s done this, because I shouldn’t talk. But believe me, it is so much better if you stop. since I stopped doing it, it’s like I can breathe better in my relationships with those people.

I’ve heard that I’m just too sensitive about this type of thing, but in my experience, it’s just better to clear the air and not antagonize people. (On purpose.) The bible has plenty to say about this, and so do plenty of other sources. Like Aesop’s Fables, and plenty of less famous books. You’d be hard put to find a story in which the use of words did not lead to trouble  in sooner or later.  So I think I’ve now made my point quite distincly. I’ve said enough.

Until next post–Natasha.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Still have it.

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“…But I know in my soul that no matter how bad it gets, I’ll be all right.

There’s hope in front of me, there’s a light I still see it, there’s a hand still holding me, even when I don’t believe it.

I might be down but I’ not dead, there’s the best still up ahead.

Even after all I’ve seen, there’s hope in front of me.

There’s a hope still burning, I can feel it rising through the night,

and my world’s still turning.

I can feel your love here by my side, You’re my hope…”

This goes out to all my readers, on election day, on every day. We still have a hope.

“For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope,” Jerimiah 29:11.

3-forest“…I still have hope, you are my hope.” ( Hope in front of me, Danny Gokey.)

–Natasha

 

When you mess up.

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The past is past. Put it all behind you. Forgive, forget. Move on. It’s a closed issue. Let it go.

These are all ways to say that you can’t spend your time in regret and resentment. I have to say, I try not to screw up. I try to be good. I have a hard admitting if I fail. Not if I’ve done a “little” thing; like said something rude, but it’ll be forgotten by tomorrow, especially if I apologize. (By the way, have you ever had someone say they don’t even know what you’re talking about, or they’d forgotten about it, when you say you’re sorry for something. I get this quite a bit. I think it’s be better to just accept the apology, but that’s not a rule, it’s a suggestion.) But if I have an ongoing problem.

To be honest, I’m one of those people who really doesn’t realize how certain expressions and words can come across. I’m inside my head so much, I tend to know more what I mean, then what other people think I mean. But sometimes I worry about it enough to go the other way, and worry too much about people reading into my words. I know I’m not alone in this problem. So let’s talk.

I’ll just cut right to the heart of the issue, if I may. It’s not about being unable to let go of stuff. It’s about whether you believe you should. When you want to be a good and kind person, it’s easy to pour on the shame when you fail, as a self imposed punishment. I think the problem is two fold: On the one hand, we can’t fix ourselves, so we feel ashamed; on the other hand, we don’t want to let God help us.

It’s like, no matter how much our life sucks, it’s our life, and we should control it. Then we can’t. And we get mad at life for taking control out of our hands. Even though, who on earth told us we could have it in the first place? I know, I’m in favor of the “It’s your life” slogan. But I hope all my readers know that what I mean by that is you’re responsible for how much you do, and don’t do, and your attitude; not that you can fix everything with a little time and effort.

So maybe when I get frustrated that I screwed up, a part of me is just upset that I can’t see it coming every time. And maybe a part of me wants to be perfect, because it seems like I should be. And to be honest, a part of me is also scared that I won’t bounce back if I make the wrong move. How far is too far? How far before I can’t go back? You all know what I’m talking about.

But in the end, the only real way to live is to know you’re flawed, but to believe you can change. And to know that change comes through love, not through shame, effort, or any other medium. Don’t be afraid to say you’re sorry, don’t get down if someone doesn’t accept your apology, just live it out. And get excited when you win a battle. Record your wins and your losses.

If I may end with the lyrics from a song I like, it goes like this:

You know you can’t stay right where you fell. The hardest part is forgiving yourself. So let’s take a walk into today, and don’t let the past get in your way!

Yesterday is history, and history is miles and miles away. So leave it all behind you, let it always remind you of the day, the day that love made history.

Would you believe that you are history in the making? Every choice that you are making; every step that you are taking, every chain that you are breaking; history is in the making. Every word that you are saying; every prayer that you are praying; every chain that  you are making; history is in the making. ( History–Mathew West.)

–Natasha

The time to be careful

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I’m not big on telling people to be overly cautious, I think taking risks is necessary. but personally I’ve realized lately that there is one are in life where you just can’t be too careful. And that is in what you let into your mind.

That probably surprised no one. But I’m serious. Homeschoolers are famously cautious, sheltered, and out of touch with the popular trends. At least I am, I was the kid in youth group who always had to ask what something was that everyone else knew about like it was their life story. Paradoxically, I always knew the answers to bible-related questions, or I’d read the spiritual boo, or heard of the preacher, or whatever. if you know any scenarios like this yo know that basically makes you the smart one who is socially challenged.

Now, I freely admit that over the years I’ve changed, I watch a lot more popular stuff, and I’m familiar with more trends, and that’s fine because I’m not from another planet for crying out loud. But there is a price that comes with it. If you are not a sheltered person than you may never have known the shock of learning for the first time what abortion is. Or the statistics on teen suicide, or sex, or violence. I wasn’t teased about being different till I was 13 at least.  I also didn’t realize that cynicism was a thing, even in my own family, until I was 12 I think. What I’m trying to say is, I’ve actually had a first time for all this stuff, I didn’t grow up being aware of it. And that does have an affect on you.

What it has to do with the mind is pretty clear. I am much more concerned with the state of my inner self than I think I would be if I’d grown up exposed to all these other problems at a young age. I regard how clean my mind is as crucial to how heathy I am as a person. That means that nothing is minor. There is no such thing as a harmless bad idea. There is only the bad stuff you can overlook, and the bad stuff you can’t. But it’s there and it has to be taken into account. This is how I’ve always thought and it was a surprise to me that it’s a pretty rare view of things. It’s funny that the same people who complain about apathy will brush off the need to be careful in what you put into your mind. I mean, do we really think they aren’t connected?

I find everyone usually agrees with me to this point, until I name a specific source that they happen to like, then I generally hear this:

“But I know it’s not real.”

“I’m not like the person who did so and so because they got the idea from a movie.”

“But I like it.”

Of course, more recently, I also get the less defensive and more aggressive claim that I’m just nutty for minding this stuff.

Well, I could be. Certainly if no one cares what’s in their mind , I sound crazy for caring  a lot.

But as soon as I started thinking this way, I immediately had problems with my mind going places I didn’t want it to go. And trying to accept ideas that I strongly disagree with. Nit because I’m any the more convinced they are correct, but because there is social pressure to accept certain beliefs, we all know that. But What if you don’t want to accept them? Why would you weaken yourself?

This is the thing, I don’t go to school or work (yet.) So if I can feel pressured just by media sources and books I read, how much more can the rest of us who are surrounded by other people who don’t believe as we do. I don’t advocate avoiding people who think differently, but I do advocate taking stock of your own thought life.

there are a few good questions to ask yourself.

  1. Have my beliefs changed over the years?
  2. If so, which ones and why?
  3.  And how did they change, was I convinced, did I get a revelation? A moment of clarity? Or was it a slow change because of what everyone around me thought.

I don’t want to sound too preachy. This doesn’t apply just to religion. It can apply to your image, your relationship expectations, your dreams and goals, and you character. And since I care deeply about those things, I have to be concerned with what I feed my mind. And that’s all I’m going to say for now. I’m pushing 800 words as it is.

until next time–Natasha.

 

We all need it

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Hey viewers, I was planning another more positive post, but today I heard someone say something that shook me up. I heard someone say they should just kill themselves.

I don’t have much to say about it. But I have felt that way too.

Reach higher.

People like me, we get our hopes up, set ourselves these high reaching goals; and imagine what a fulfilling existence would be like…and then we find ourselves stuck in the day to day living.

“Any idiot can survive a crisis, it’s the day to day living that wears you out.” Unknown source

I was never more depressed in my life than in the two years I spent prior to finding God. I don’t mean I never enjoyed myself in that time, or that I didn’t eat, or anything like that; but I lived everyday with the underlying question why I was so miserable.

I am so different now it’s hard to believe it, that part of my life seems so small and shell-like. But I still get reminded of it from time to time. I used to feel sick to my stomach nearly everyday, because I felt that way whenever I was scared or nervous or just plain worrying. I used to be a hypochondriac and feel sick whenever I heard or read about illness. I used to have irrational fears of monsters and other stuff I won’t go into. And those were the small problems. My overall problem was fear. Like Charlie Brown, I was afraid of everything.

Fear has torment. That’s why it makes you depressed. Fear makes you hopeless if it stays too long.

The second time in my life I was depressed was when I’d been a Christian for a year or two, and God just went into hiding. Every believer deals with this sooner or later. And knowing that helped, but for awhile I felt like my faith was pointless.

That experience taught me so much. I learned that faith is not a feeling. Because when you feel bad, even if you believe your religion is based on facts and knowledge, then it looks false. I learned that praising God when you don’t feel like it is sometimes the only thing that brings Him closer, and that’s not for Him, it’s for us, to remember what kind of God we serve. But I also learned that God doesn’t leave, He simply becomes less visible so you have to search deeper and deeper to find him. And that can either make you angry, if you let it; or it can make you stronger.

Maybe I’m alone in this, but I think when God says His ways are higher than our ways, He means that the way he chooses to do things is what it best, even though it makes no sense to us at all. But until we can admit that our ways are the lesser because we are the lesser, we can’t be raised up to see His point of view. That’s why Christians are always talking about going higher than before, and being lifted up. But non-Christians get this concept too when they realize that maturity is a thing, and what it looks like. (And no one is born knowing that.) Maturity is the simplest example of what I’m talking about. It’s the difference between pretending to bake a cake a s a kid, and actually baking one as a young cook (and messing it up probably) and then finally learning how to do it right. At first there is no real difficulty, and no real reward either; then there’s a lot of difficulty and still no reward; then you get to be good at it and the reward is two-fold, the cake and the accomplishment.

But first of all you have to want to. And to want to you have to be hungry. I’ve heard this over and over again. Hunger never gets any easier does it? In fact, it gets harder. But if you learn to understand it, then you can do something about it. Maybe we all wish there were easier ways to achieve the Great things in life. But that is because we are down here, and we need to be higher. (I guess I had plenty to say after all. It’s gotten easier to talk about the rough patches of my life.)

As you all can see, I have no picture perfect existence. I’ve talked a lot about my faith in this post, because I had to, there is just no other way to understand things like this. I got shaken up, and it’s happened before, and it hurts every time. But nothing has taken me out yet, and nothing has to take you out either. My advice if you’re feeling bad is to hold on; play good music; read a good book; chat with a good friend about it; and keep holding on.

Until next time–Natasha

What I saw on the highway

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APATHY…HOPELESS… A few weeks ago I was in the car on the way to church and I noticed some graffiti along the highway. These are two of the words I caught. But there were more, all about the same. And I’m sure if you’ve seen any graffiti you know it’s usually depressing, or downright vulgar, occasionally you get the artistic words that don’t make any sense but whoever painted them seems to think they’re better than cuss words and negativity. What’s interesting is that only a short time after noting those words, I read somewhere (I believe it was another blog) that graffiti can tell us what young people are thinking nowadays.

I’m not sure how true that is, but certainly some angry teens are trying to tell us something. I have known moments where I felt life proclaiming to the world what I was feeling, not because the world could help me, but because I wanted someone to know and to notice.

In retrospect, I know that I had a lack of communication skills as a younger teen. And that it was because I had trust issues. ( We call it cynicism when it’s adults.) Plenty of lonely teens and kids are asking “Who hears? Who cares?” And I still ask those questions sometimes, but now when I ask I have the answer. Doubt is not the question, doubt  is having the answer and then questioning that.

We exist to be loved, and all of us know it deep down. When we feel unloved and don’t know why, we may think we’ve missed it somehow. That at some point in time either we made the wrong move, or someone just decided we  weren’t worth their time, or we were left behind by mistake; and eventually we conclude it is too late, better find something else to live for.

But what else is there? People do everything they do out of love, or need. And they are happy accordingly. It is terribly sad that there are young people out there who feel so unloved that they tell us all that apathy is the way to live, and life is hopeless. I’m not saying it is right or wrong to spray paint on the highway, I’m asking why.

I’ve wondered a lot why no one ever asked me why I was the way I was as an early teen. I think they probably just didn’t know what to ask, And my past is in the past, I’ve moved on. But I didn’t do it on my own. It took a lot of prayer, and I don’t mean the repetitive, religious prayer, but the kind where the tears are streaming and you feel like you’re being crushed under the weight of your pain. (Ever been there?) It sounds bad, and it certainly felt bad, but when you come to grips with your pain, it’s a huge relief.

I’m going to close this with a word of encouragement to anyone who can relate to what I’ve shared. There is hope. Apathy is never the answer because apathy is it’s own kind of hurt. it is better to face the real hurt and get healed. God can do that for you, or other people can help you. But it’s all a matter of opening up. And if there’s no one at all to turn to that’s when I’ve always found God to be my help.

I think that’s enough for all of us for one post–until next time, Natasha