writingshua

[writingshua]

[writingshua]

all I need is a whisper in a world that only shouts

Tonight I find myself feeling particularly overwhelmed and overloaded with information. I'm tempted to lie and say that it's information that is relevant and worthy of my time but most of it is just the never ending stream of everyone's opinion on everything happening under the sun.

People seem especially vitriolic lately. I don't know what it is about our culture that makes people think their opinion on literally anything matters that much.

Every other post is an impassioned opinion on Katy Perry's space flight, whether or not tariffs are good or bad, or whether or not it was Rachel Zegler's fault that Snow White flopped. When did we as the American public think it was our job to have such strong opinions on everything, everywhere, all the time?

Why do I give a shit if Katy Perry and Gayle King used their own money to go to space? Was it a vanity trip? Sure! Did they actually do anything to advance space exploration? Of course not!

Either way, thank God you posted a half-baked infographic to let us know your opinion on tariffs.

Maybe the reason we're all so damn unhappy all the time is that we spend so much of our mental energy in a digital hell that's constantly trying to convince us for one reason or another that the world is ending and that the only way to save it is by opining online, usually with only part of the information, about every little situation that happens.

We're like children on a playground trying to exact justice. We yell and scream about a perceived injustice while our pants are soaked in our own piss.

It's obvious that most of us have some awareness that our own lives are a mess but we think that by trying to set everyone and everything else right will help us escape from ourselves.

And before anyone accuses me of romanticizing some rose-tinted, ignorance-is-bliss view of the world, I'm not saying don't be informed. Please, read a newspaper. Stop listening to podcasts, stop watching Fox News and MSNBC, and stop getting your news from Twitter headlines. Read a newspaper. Play with your kids. Touch grass. Run a marathon. Feed your local homeless guy. Remind yourself that you will die and most of what you ranted about online mattered.

Rant over.

-Shua

[writingshua]

i want to do everything but i only have maybe like 86 years to live

At age 29, I find myself lamenting that one human lifetime isn't enough time to do, be, and see all the things I want to.

No, I simply can't be a teacher, a drug addict, a nun, a divorcee, a stunt man, a Power Ranger, a twin, a politician, a dog, a whore, a virgin, a scientist, an executive, a creative, and the President of the United States and this is one of the most disappointing things about life.

Yeah, okay, that's all.

[writingshua]

start at love

The pressure is off when you know you're deeply loved.

Knowing this doesn't mean things in your life are easy or perfect but it does seem to remove the existential weight from your decision making. My performance doesn't determine my value. That weight is carried instead, by the love of God.

I guess what I'm beginning to realize at the ripe old age of 29 is that most of my life up to this point has been a performance. I perform so people will love me or at least make me feel loved. I perform so I can be affirmed in a way that will one day make me believe that my life is worth something.

I guess we all perform in our different ways. For me, it's always looked like being the loudest person in the room. Everyone needs to know my opinion and everyone needs to know how funny I am. I also need to appear spiritually deep as well as being in really good physical shape. If I can just mold myself in a way I find more acceptable, I may finally feel a sense of worth.

Isn't that the question that eats at us deep down beneath all the other questions and problems of life?

Am I worth anything? Is there a point in my existence?

On paper, I know the correct answer is, "you are loved by God and your value comes from being his child." Yet, I constantly find myself talking to myself as if that is not enough.

I believe God is in the midst of delivering me from this mindset. My eyes have been opened to the many points in my day in which a decision begins as a very critical thought. "You look fat today, you need to run." "You better make a to-do list because you're so forgetful and will probably screw everything up like you always do." "You already had a lustful thought today so since you've already messed up you may as well watch porn."

The worst part about these thoughts isn't merely the message behind them but who I often attribute them to. I assume God thinks the same things I do about myself. He's showing me more and more that He's not. While He wants me to strive for excellence and health and holiness in all things, His tone is wildly different than mine.

I, as a human, look at myself with a broken perspective, as I do with all people. God, being holy and perfect in all ways as well as being love itself, views things from an unclouded, unbiased perspective.

What would happen if I at least tried to see my day to day decisions through the lens God does?

What if I tried to start from a place of love and a place of wanting goodness and righteousness for myself rather than from a place of criticism and self-hatred?

I guess time will tell. It seems to be carrying me further than hating myself ever has though.

-Shua

[writingshua]

i'm addicted to hating myself

What do you do when you're drowning? Try to swim I guess. It seems the harder I try to keep myself afloat the quicker I sink. "Let go and let God" sounds nice on a Hobby Lobby keepsake but what does it actually mean?

My name is Shua and I'm addicted to porn. It's been a part of my life since I was 13 years old. For a period of about six years I went without it, still struggling with masturbation from time to time. I suppose in the eyes of God, sin is sin, lust is lust. But I find online pornography particularly sinister and dark.

I've read the studies and warnings about how terrible it is for the body and the brain. I honestly don't doubt any of them. The more often I use it, the more I feel the cloud of numbness forming around my mind and heart. Colors don't seem as colorful but at least the pain isn't as painful. The only thing I feel is self hatred.

The self hatred is the worst part of it. Lord, do I hate myself when I've just binged some porn. I hate walking into work knowing the shit I was watching the night before. After awhile I start feeling like an incomplete person. There is a gnawing feeling I get deep down that I'm not who I'm supposed to be. I hate knowing that things in my life would be so much better if I could just get my shit together.

The ideals of who I'm supposed to be scream in my face, reminding me of the chasm between the reality of where I'm at and where I'm supposed to be. The ideals keep me hiding from reality in hopes of separating it from perception. Maybe that will be enough for me to not hate myself. Maybe that's the problem though. Maybe the self hatred is at least partly to blame for all of it.

I hate myself for what I look at when no one's around and as a result I'm motivated to quit. I suppose at first glance this doesn't seem like a bad thing. The problem I find is that this kind of motivation is just me running. I'm running from what I'm afraid I'm becoming and as a result I end up becoming that very thing.

I see this same dynamic in how I treat my body and its health. I see myself in the mirror and I hate my fat rolls and my love handles. I hate myself for allowing them to even form on my body. I hate myself any time I feel slightly winded. I tell myself it's time to get my shit together and make some ridiculous workout routine and an insanely strict diet that will finally make me acceptable.

It always ends the same though. I make it a week and then something happens and I think I need to numb or run away or I fear the feeling of self denial. I binge and throw the whole thing out the window and in the week that follows I end up heavier than I was before.

It's the same way with porn and masturbation. "Tomorrow is the day I never touch this shit again," I say as I sprint away from it the next day, fueled by self hatred. The problem with sprinting though, is that it makes you tired. Eventually you tire out and end up back where you were.

So, if being motivated to change by self hatred isn't the answer, what is? Self love? Love for God? Deliverance? Honestly, I have more questions and answers at this point.

My prayer is for deliverance from addictions and from the self hatred that fuels them. I pray I'd be motivated by love for God not just for myself.

-Shua

[writingshua]

don't think. do.

Well, here we go. I'm challenging myself to start writing for at least 30 minutes each day.

I've been out of the habit of regularly writing and find myself feeling quite distant from the medium I love. Said distance has made it more and more difficult to inch back towards it.

I probably remember writing when I was in college as being much easier than it actually was. At the time, it seemed like I had so many important things to say. Now, at the age of 29, after several years of life busting my ass, it's hard to believe I have anything worth saying. It's very possible that in college I was more self diluted and believed myself to be much more important than I actually I am. I'd say that's pretty typical for most college students.

That being said, I've decided to get back into this, caution be damned. I've spent so much time thinking about writing again yet that's gotten me nowhere. After all, life happens through engagement, not mere thought. That's not to say that any engagement in life doesn't start with a thought. However, when I look back on my life as I lay on my deathbed, I probably won't be thinking about the thoughts that I had or all my good intentions but instead what I actually did with all of it.

I can't be too hard on myself for living in my head so much though. My brain convinces me that if I simply stay where I'm at, I can get through the rest of this life with no pain or discomfort. "Keep these ideas in here and just dream about them. That way you can control the outcome and never have to get hurt."

I suppose our human need for control is inherent to our nature. After all, we're made in the image of a God who brings order from chaos and who reigns over the universe. It makes that we have a natural instinct to want to maintain order in our lives. However, like most things in an extremely broken cosmos we take things too far. We become obsessed with controlling every small detail of our lives and it drives us insane. We act as if though we are God, forgetting that we were only ever called to bear His image. Rather than working for the glory of God, we put ourselves in His place and try to exert control where we ought not and claim glory where we ought not.

So, what does this even have to do with writing? I guess, I'm just realizing that I often avoid using the gifts I've been given and use a sort of false humility that's actually rooted in pride as justification for it. I put off doing the things I ought to do, hoping one day I'll feel bulletproof and perfect enough to do it. Why? What would happen if everything I wrote wasn't perfect? It might just burst the bubble of narcissism I often find myself in. It may reveal that I'm not as exceptional or special as I'd like to think I am. Whose reputation am I protecting though? Am I some kind of god who can't be blasphemed?

No. I'm an imperfect man serving a perfect God and trying to reconcile living in that tension.

So, all that to say, I'm just going to throw everything I have at the wall and pray some of it sticks.

-Shua