The Rabbit, The Wolf, The Way

A daring little rabbit, they say,
traversed into the deepest parts of the woods one day.
He found a grave sight within a hidden grave site
when he stumbled into a wolf's way.

Presented with a fear not like any other
the little rabbit dared to stay.
For the wolf had no appetite
and only wished to create a fear in the rabbit's bay.

Mindful of the lack of attack
the rabbit sat still, and eventually, came to ease.
The wolf, who was very distilled
had lost the ability to be pleased.

Turning from the rabbit to go the other way
the wolf made one final attempt at a tease.
He licked his lips while staring at the little rabbit
before he set forth the release.

Now the rabbit, having faced mortality,
was faced with quite the dilemma, they say.
Was he to become a stronger rabbit,
or was he simply going to stay?

-Dustin S. Stover

What is Love?

I recently asked some people what their definition of love is, but before I get into a long monologue about that here is the actual definition.

Love (noun): An intense feeling of deep affection
          (verb): to feel a deep romantic or sexual attraction

So, yeah, about as basic and non-descriptive as possible.  So now let me go into a philosophical spiel about the things people told me.

On a more simplistic and basic level, I got the answers that would immediately spring to mind - to care about someone, a great and positive feelings towards someone, and I even got the, "I don't know, it is just love."  Of course, these answers really don't lead anyone to a conclusive feeling any more than the definition does.

My favorite thing someone came to me with was a poem by Luis Vaz de Camões (this being translated from Portuguese)

Love is a fire that burns unseen, 
a wound that aches yet isn’t felt,
an always discontent contentment,
a pain that rages without hurting,

a longing for nothing but to long,
a loneliness in the midst of people, 
a never feeling pleased when pleased, 
a passion that gains when lost in thought.

It’s being enslaved of your own free will;
it’s counting your defeat a victory;
it’s staying loyal to your killer. 

But if it’s so self-contradictory,
how can Love, when Love chooses,
bring human hearts into sympathy?

So, finally, we reach some depth.  Some real, true, meaning.  

And when asking myself this very same question - what is love? - I could only come up with one thing, one answer that fit with me.  Love is the feeling that there will never be enough time with that person.  Whether it is a minute or an eternity, the feeling that tomorrow still won't be enough time to embrace the person but even knowing that time is limited, as we cannot exist for an eternity, it is still worth it to spend what little time together that can be shared.

Now, of course, we all think of love as the epitome of how much we care about someone else, or an action of staying loyal to someone.  Eventually, even, love just melts away into what two people say to one another because of the length of time spent together, but I dare you, my dear readers, to rethink that.  Next time you look at someone you love, or you used to love that still inhabits your space, think to yourself - think to yourself about what you want to do with that person.  Think about how much you'd miss them should they not be seen again tomorrow.  Remember that, at least at some point, you felt that there would never be enough time in your life to spend with them and ask yourself, has that changed?  Have you ever felt that way about another person?

What does love mean to you?

-Dustin S Stover

The Dangers of Insecurity

A recent event got me thinking quite deeply about insecurities and, more importantly, how they cause actions that are, well, less than desirable.

And of course, I've touched upon insecurities in the past - how important it is to be secure in yourself as a person, to know your strengths and weaknesses.  I won't ever neglect that importance as it seems to be the foundation of being a healthy human being.

So let me get into more detail about insecurities.  First off, they always stem from feeling as though value is lost somewhere.  They, of course, are the ones who have all the right to decide your value in their life and not you.  The moment you place your own insecurities in front of their judgment, it is to say that you don't trust them to judge you.

Yeah, yeah, go on your tangents about how people shouldn't judge - and I don't believe the typical judgments are fair, to say that because you dress or look a certain way is to mean you fit a certain criteria is unfair to any and all - however, everyone has to judge the moment someone is to enter their life in any substantial manner.

I'm guilty of being extremely cerebral.  I have a very strong tendency to try to understand anything and everything I can, but I'm also guilty of having quite cloudy judgment of how other people perceive me.  This should come as no surprise to anyone who has laid in bed at night wondering why someone else likes them or what have you.

To get back on topic, though, let's look at some of the actions that can be caused by insecurity.

A most prominent action is to question the other person's motives.  This can go into a variety of directions - are you looking to gain something from me, are you genuine in your interests, do you really care at all?  So on and so forth.  This mindset always ends badly.  For obvious reasons, it sets someone on the defense or offends them.  At the very least, it makes the insecure person seem less desirable because they appear to be rather emotionally unstable.

Another common one I've witnessed is the controlling type.  I'm sure a number have seen this overly common type.  The type who tells their significant other what they can and cannot do.  The type that makes them feel inferior in every way just to compensate their own lack of value - after all, if they do everything the insecure one desires then it must mean they love them, right?  Well, obviously not always.  Most of the time it ends up being psychologically devastating and no one wants to spend tens of thousands to undo the damage of being put down for, possibly, decades.

A third type is the one that shies away from interactions.  Perhaps a girl is interested in a guy, the guy doesn't understand why so he avoids her.  Passing up on all experience with the other person altogether.  This feeds into an even deeper problem where the insecure one starts the vicious cycle of feeling undesirable because they don't experience a relationship the way other people do so they don't take up the opportunities to explore a relationship when it presents itself.

In all of these cases, however, the core problem is the insecurity itself.  It should not be relied upon anyone else to make the insecure individual feel secure.  In the cases in which there are questions in regards to where two people stand with one another, it should be discussed in a healthy fashion.  If that insecurity in the relationship or friendship still exists afterwards then there is a fundamental problem inside the relationship - that fundamental issue is trust, but that is a topic I've previously discussed and, I'm most certain, I will discuss again in the future.

-Dustin S. stover

Coffee

Occasionally in life, we find ourselves in tricky situations.  I'm finding myself in quite the tricky situation now.  A new life, a new place, a new - well, everything is just new.  There is no easy way of saying it, it just feels as though I woke up yesterday in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people speaking an unfamiliar language.  As I said, a tricky situation.

When I went to pay for this coffee, black as the night can possibly be and as hot as the deepest part of hell, I choked on words as I fumbled through the menu.  Eventually I had to give up and point to the fresh brew.  It wasn't what I wanted.

But I sit here outside of the cafe with this harsh cup of unforgettable experience, waiting for someone who speaks my language or even understands the hand gestures I want to make.  Instead, people walk past as though I'm non-existent.

In a way, though, it is nice.  A couple walks past holding hands and speaking to one another in a way they can understand, but I understand, too.  I may just hear noises without words, but the smile they share and the way their eyes glance back and forth.  It is pure love.

A woman walks by screaming into her cell phone with the same unidentifiable language as the couple.  It tells me every bit as much about her day as the couple told me about theirs, and still without a single word.

The strong coffee is almost too much for me to handle, but I take another sip.  I paid for it, I better damn well finish it.

It isn't a completely spontaneous moment in time.  I chose to move here to this foreign land.  I chose to place myself deep inside a culture I knew little about.  I thought it would be easy enough to learn the native tongue if I only found a local who spoke two languages, with the second being mine, but alas, I find myself alone.  Still, this is an experience that money cannot buy by any other means.

A lady, late in life, is sitting at another of these tiny tables - tables they claim to be for two but I'd be hard pressed to believe it would fit more than a breakfast sized meal and a cup of this potent coffee.  She sits, however, alone and staring into the empty space across from her, the empty chair.  Her eyes unable to move from that thin metal framed, and rather uncomfortable if I'm to be honest, chair.

I take another sip of the coffee.  It has cooled quite a bit, though still hot.  The taste is more prominent now and almost pleasurable.  No, it is pleasurable.

I stare at this old woman as though she is going to speak to me, but he eyes just won't break from that chair.  Whatever is going on in her mind, it is a dangerous thought.  So, naturally, I get up and walk to her table.

I pull the chair from the table to give enough room for me to sit down and for a moment her eyes don't move, but then, as though the Earth came alive in front of her, her old and tired eyes bounce to meet mine.

"Do you speak English?" I say.

She peers at me with a confused look.  Clearly she doesn't.

I point to the chair and she smiles.  Her right hand reaches out slowly and points to the empty chair.  I sit, I place my coffee in front of me on the table across from her, what looks to be, macchiato.  Comically, that is what I wanted.

The smile, though it isn't as sturdy or open as it was when I first asked to sit, was still there as we drank our drinks.

"What is that?" Even though I knew she couldn't understand what I was saying, I hoped the hand gestures I was making made sense to her.

"Macchiato." She says with a smile as I laugh and take another sip of coffee.  It is a very good taste.

-Dustin S. Stover

Wanderlust and the Painful Urges to Travel

They say that if you want the greatest espresso in the world you should go to Italy.  If you want the greatest enchiladas then Mexico.  The greatest steak, possibly Brazil, but since I don't eat beef then you'd be a better guess at the answer to that one.

The best music comes out of Europe.  The best dancing from South America - probably also falls in line with why their soccer teams are so good, that fancy foot work.

Aside from the music aspect, how can any of us truly know without the experience of travel?  What is it about flowing gradually from location to location that terrifies people so much that they refrain from doing it?

Sure, France is far more peaceful place to go than, say, Syria currently, but Syria has just as much culture to offer (provided it weren't extraordinarily difficult to get into the country due to current war-like "conflict" happening there currently) as the most pleasant of the European countries, surely.

I've always been one to be far more attracted to the side of life that involves more struggle, more pain, more suffering than that of the happy go lucky, nothing ever goes wrong side.  Is it more dangerous?  Absolutely, but the majority of those you encounter will treat you millions of times better simply because they understand a very simplistic concept - if you don't work together as a community, even if it is just neighbors, then you simply don't survive.

It builds character, as they say.

Of course, the benefits from a society with minimal turmoil allows for certain types of personal growth - we'd never have espresso or soccer or dancing if it weren't for people's ability to feel secure enough to do those things.  Alright, we'd probably still have dancing, but have you ever seen a Brazilian dance?

Needless to say, as well, you can get all these things in pretty much any first world country around the world.  People of the United States can imitate those Brazilian dance moves that are so enthralling to watch.  There is a Starbucks on nearly every corner that will serve you an espresso.  That music I mentioned earlier?  The internet exists for a reason.

Perhaps those imitations are good enough for you, but for me it simply makes me more curious about what other little treasures the rest of the planet has to offer.

-Dustin S. Stover

The Hunt and the Hunter

The beast that beckons and howls, he grows delightfully close.  I suppose it could be a she, but the more terrifying a thing is the more masculine it is presumed to be.

There has been a hunt ages and ages long raging in the heart and soul of my people.  We are taught from birth to chase this beast and that obtaining it as a carcass is the way to become the noblest.  Men hunting alongside women for this creature of obscurity and amazement.

Few and far between have any of us seen what this demon creature looks like, yet when one of us do peer at it, even if only for a second, it encourages every last one of us to rise earlier in the morn and hunt later into the night.  This elegant beast, loud and ferocious, massive in size and legend, yet as elusive as the tiniest object in the universe.

Yet here we are again, hearing the thunderous roar of this confounding creature.  He cannot be far from here as the tracks are laid out so steadily before us, clear for all of us to see in the clearest of blue skies.

This is going to be my day.  I will have this beast with no name.  I will sit atop my chair as the most masterful, most praised tribesman to ever live.  The one who slayed the beast, the master of the trickiest creature alive.

Another roar from just out of eye sight, too many trees blocking my view.  Certainly, though, the beast cannot hear me nearing in on him.

The other hunters decided to travel together in a pack, a decent group of five.  We always come back with game when we travel in a pack, but we never get the prize in which we all truly seek.  Some claim that they are satisfied with a good sized deer, maybe even a buffalo.  They are lying to themselves, though.  They want the creature who cannot be caught.  That is why they go out on a hunt the day after capturing a big meal for all of us to share.

I, however, had to venture out alone.  I can't lie to myself any longer.  I want the beast we all know exists, yet cannot find.  I found him.  He is just on the other side of this shrubbery.  His grunt is patterned the way a man snoring in the middle of the night might be.  It is harsh, it is loud, it is angry, and it is big.

The tales report the beast being ten or fifteen feet tall and just as wide.  Enough to feed the entire village for months, or make us all fatter than we could imagine.  The one who captures it decides, though, how it is dispersed and I want it all for myself.  I want to live off of it for the remainder of my life.  I could finally stop hunting.

Some of the other hunters say that they'd share with everyone.  They say that everyone is equal, but they are a liar.  Even if that were the case, someone would try to steal extra for themselves.  Do you know how many furs could be cut from a beast that size?

Sure, some of them would be satisfied just having slightly more than everyone else, but not me.  I want it all.  I want everyone to see me with the furs as I pack the pounds onto my now tiny little frame.  Tiny because I don't eat enough.  Tiny because I spend so much time and effort trying to hunt.

I find myself still standing on the wrong side of the bush - a bush so massive that it would be the only one to hide this beast from my sight now.  I must be clever if I'm to take him down.  Strategy is everything.  My attack must be swift and precise.  I've trained my whole life for this and the time is finally here.

Some of the other tribesman weigh more than I, and I do not understand how.  They hunt small game, squirrels, rabbits, and the like.  They always have food, though.

As I'm rounding the corner the loud noises start to fade.  Is the beast aware of my presence?  How could the beast know?  No, he surely cannot know.  I've been as silent as silent can be.

I creep even more slowly around the corner.  The noise is still there and still does not sound startled; however, it doesn't sound as intense as it once did.  It does not sound as intense as it did while I was further away.

As I finish rounding the corner, I see nothing.  The sound is louder than it has ever been, yet nothing.

No, there is something there.  The beast to end all beasts, however, is no beast at all.  It is tiny.  It is the size of a small rodent, a mouse perhaps.  It opens its mouth and lets out the most ferocious and loud noise I have ever heard before it scurries into the shrubbery.  It is gone, gone now and forever.

Now I'm faced with a choice.  Did I find the fifteen foot monster and let him get away or did I fail at another hunting excursion?

-Dustin S. Stover

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Dip Your Toes in the Ocean

Sometimes I like to pretend I got to have a do over as a child.  You know, have that red bike instead of the blue.  Maybe saved up chore money a little bit longer to afford the bigger super soaker to blast my neighbors with.

It is a long, slippery slope, though, and I soon have to come back to reality before I'm sifting through the millions of variables that would have changed over the course of a single year.

It is interesting, then, whenever someone I come into contact with can just make actions and stick with them.  I try to do that, and I have done that to quite a good deal of success, but to live like that... to live like that is something very admirable to me.

It always seems as though those people are happiest as well.  Being able to take in the moment for everything it is worth, being able to throw consequences to the side and say, "this is what I'm doing and to Hell with the rest of it."  It is beautiful in a way.  Perhaps one of the most beautiful things a person can see in another.

I often times from myself at odds with people like that, however.  Well, not always, but the majority of the time.  What happens, then, when someone finds a healthy balance between that fun loving nature of being in the now and being able to balance consequences of actions?

I'd like to imagine it would go a little something like this - things still stay exciting to them, and when making the choices they make they still make the better of the choices at hand.  Meaning, just because they expose themselves to greater risks doesn't mean they are actually in any more of a dangerous scenario.

A person can die doing the exact same thing every day as easily as a person can die jumping out of an airplane, provided proper attention to detail has been given to preparations for the sky diving excursion, but is it really a life worth living if everything becomes so stale that the very air being breathed in feels more like poison?

And the opposite, of course, is true.  Someone who takes no precautions in their actions can run a pretty severe risk of ruining their lives with bad choices.

One might argue that so long as someone is breathing then their life hasn't been ruined, which of course is a fair assessment.  Where someone desires something strongly enough, things can change for the better at any given point.

Perhaps, then, everyone should take more risks in their lives.  Feel that fresh air.  Let the turbulence shake you up a bit.  Let the waves crash upon your chest.  Just be smart about it.

-Dustin S. Stover