Hugs

...up until i was fourteen i absolutely hated them.  After a while I kinda grew into em...but I never figured out why I did... until probably last night.  So a little background... when I was fourteen I was a pretty lonely kid.  I think that was partly my fault cause I didn't like to trust a lot of ppl.  I'm home schooled so yea the stereotype that we're introverted does carry out a bit.  (that does NOT mean that I'm super anti-social.. you would know if you know me).
   My family's asian... we weren't really touchy, so we weren't exactly used to ppl spawning their body's over us.  I remember when I was seven, It was after church and i was playing with the other kids and we built a boat/ship with the chairs in the fellowship hall.  One of my other friends,  (who was a bit of a bully) told another boy that he didn't have membership rights to our boat.  To gain that membership, first he would have to go into the girl's bathroom for 5 mins (we were 7, this was a big deal).  To my horror, when he came back, my friend told him that he had to hug a girl.  Since I was thee ONLY girl that age in that church he started chasing me around everywhere.  He eventually caught me.  I remember I cried that day... and i couldn't understand why my parent's didn't really care that A BOY actually HUGGED ME (remember I'm seven and I wasn't used to hugs.. and now I kinda laugh at it).
    Looking back at this experience, I realize what a hug meant to me...and maybe still means to me.  Back then I felt so uncomfortable because I felt like my personal space was a violated.  If I wanted to hug a person, that would mean that I would have to trust them.  Idk there's this trust that comes with a full on hug sometimes.  My parents rarely hugged people...or their kids. so for me, being hugged and hugging people would equate to trusting someone with something I didn't even trust my parents with.
  Fast foward, I'm 14.  I still don't hug people, but people hug me... but instead of hugging them back, I kinda just awkwardly stand there with my arms straight.  The closest thing to a hug I would do was maybe a side hug.  I think I only started to do these side hugs because it was a bit rude to just leave em hanging.... even if you tell them that you HATE hugs :P.  So at this point I would try to do half hugs.
   Over these past two years I've made really great friends.  Some from church and some from camp.  But idk i guess i still have issues trusting people with almost anything.... I would just bottle emotions up and burst like a soda can.  Last night I was getting pretty stressed about a term paper I already turned in last week.  We haven't gotten a grade back yet, but I know I didn't write it to my highest standard.  It's not like i didn't try on this paper.  Actually it's quite the opposite, I don't think I've ever spent MORE time editing this paper.  There are just some really big sections that I noticed flaws in that I'm SURE i could have done better.
   Since we have to re-write and expand this term paper, I decided to outline what I had written to make it easier to see what I want to change..  By the time I had gotten done with my outline, I was filled with so much hatred towards myself (Why didn't I fix this??? etc) .. I was beginning to get scared of how mean I could be to myself.  was a pretty dark night.  I realized i had two choices at that point.  I could either keep hating myself and letting it eat me alive... OR I could trust God and trust friends to pray for me.  After a while of debating, I decided to trust some friends and I texted them to pray for me.  I started praying afterwards..  I felt like my four year-old cousin taking his lego car that he keeps breaking and to his dad and saying "daddy fix it".  'Cept it was me that I was taking to God.  Even though they hadn't replied yet, I felt this hug-like experience.  I felt this sense of love... God loves me.  My friends love me. no matter what. Trust is a magical thing.  No fear could ever overcome the power of love.  But you have to trust to feel that love.  I'm really starting to like hugs.            

Of fairystorys and love

My friend was going to tell a sorta lame children's story today for church.  So from the time I sat down in church to the time he gave children's story I was typing like a manic on a small iphone keypad trying to make up a better children's story.  Sadly, I didn't finish in time... but I finished later on and here's the final-ish product.... (grammar might be a tad off...sorry!)

                                                                                      A Fairystory.

          Once upon a time, there was a boy named Evan.  Evan lived with his parents and his big brother, Tyler, in a beautiful house with a great forest behind it.  Tyler had a mischievous hobby of telling Evan horror stories of creatures called "Bungles" that came out and terrorized innocent creatures in the forest at night.  Evan's parents dismissed these tall tales as silly stories and told Evan to do likewise, but every time Evan wandered too close to the entrance of the Forest at nighttime, he could hear the faint yelps of innocent animals being attack by ferocious beasts.  

          Evan had one thing in his life that was more precious to him than almost anything else.  It was a great, big, shaggy and fluffy dog named Munchkin.  Munchkin was evan's best friend and greatest companion.  One day, when Evan was playing fetch with munchkin, he accidentally over-threw a tennis ball.  To Evan's horror, the ball landed in the forest. Munchkin ran madly into the forest...but Munchkin didn't return.  Evan yelled for his best friend at the top of lungs. Evan waited 5 mins..then 10...then 20 mins. Still Munchkin was no where in sight.  Evan looked behind him at the rapidly setting sun... Dusk was approaching and soon the Bungles would be coming out!  Suddenly, Evan was overcome with a rush of fear.  "What if the Bungles go after Munchkin!?!" thought Evan!  With a ear splitting yell of Munchkin's name, Evan shoved aside his dreaded fear of the forest and dashed into it in desperate hopes of retrieving his precious dog before it got dark.

           After countless vain attempts of screaming Munchkin's name and what seemed like endless hours of desperate searching , Evan heard a twig snap.  He jerked his head in the direction of the noise and to his horror he watched a mysterious tall dark silhouette escape into the ever-growing darkness of the forest.  "BUNGLES!" thought Evan.  A wave of panic exploded over Evan's chest.  His fear of Bungles and darkness overwhelmed him as it had never done before.  His gut instinct screamed at him to turn back. As he was on the verge of succumbing to his fears and abandoning his search for his best friend, a happy memory of Munchkin forced itself into Evan's mind.  This pure and simple thought gave him the strength to turn away from the path leading to his home and cowardliness.  Courageously, he trekked on in the dangerous search for his beloved dog.  

           Suddenly, out of no where, a wooden cabin appeared right in front of his eyes and on the front porch sat munchkin, who was being happily petted by a wise looking old man. Evan dashed up the steps and crashed his knees down on a porch.   With great mirth he cried "MUNCHKIN!!" with his arms spread open to welcome his precious pup.  Munchkin leap up at the sound of his name and ran toward Evan with a joyous smile and wagging tail.   As evan hugged his great shaggy dog a huge feeling of relief washed over him. Munchkin was safe, and all was well.

            The man looked at Evan and said with a profound tone, "Evan...you've been so brave. You thought you risked your life by coming in the forest at this time! You overcame your greatest fear!".  

             Evan looked up and replied, "I saw a bungle not two seconds ago! I was so worried that Munchkin had been attacked!" 

             The man replied with a cheery chuckle  "Bungles? There are no such things... That was me.. Picking apples in my garden! But you didnt let your fear of these....creatures get to you did you? Your love for this handsome pup allowed you to overcome your greatest fear".  

             The man took a golden tablet the size of a small coin and handed it to Evan saying "for your brave efforts and selfless love, I reward you with this token". 

            On it was inscribed, "greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends."  

The man walked Evan and his dog out of the forest.  As Evan gazed up at the glittering moon he inquired      "Mister, I never caught your name" But as Evan looked behind him and the man was gone. Evan looked down and smiled at munchkin while fumbling with the tablet in his pocket. At the moment, he knew that he had just spent the evening with an angel.

Enjoying Life

        Around this time last year, I was most likely stressing about two things.  1. My upcoming inkling's term paper that I just HAD to get an "A" on (Hadn't gotten an "a" on a term paper all year). 2. My performance of Bach's Partitia in E major, preludio.
       Curious thing stress is.  Idk, I think it's just my opinion, but I think stress or worry directed towards how well we preform or finish a paper is one of the biggest indicators of pride.  We get so caught up on worrying about how we do or how others (maybe even God) will think we did.
       Before every violin recital, I remember my teacher telling me to relax and just have fun.  This was not possible on two levels.  One, I didn't have the technical background to physically relax while preforming, or even practicing, violin.  Two, I didn't understand what it meant to have fun while playing.  This concept was totally foreign to me.  Back then,  I believed that having fun meant that you were satisfied with your performance afterwards.  This is true in a sense, but my definition of satisfied back then was perfection.  After playing my Bach, I just started to feel this strong hatred towards myself.  "Why didn't I play it right?!?  Why do I suck?" "Why can't violin be fun?", I asked myself.
    If you have ever participated in any form of art you will know that perfection is not possible in this field.  Forget art, You will never achieve your definition of perfection in any field, nor will you ever fit someone else's definition of perfection.  This sounds like thee most depressing thing in the world, but it's actually the most comforting thing.  If we know that we can never reach our subjective goals of perfection, then what is the point of worrying that we won't get it?  Notice that the only person that REALLY cares how well we did after a performance is not our teacher, or our parents.  It's us.
       When I was eight years old, I was on my way to a piano recital.  I was feeling a bit nervous over how well I would do.  I was SO afraid that if I messed up, the other kids would be talking about it for ages to come.  When I got the the venue and sat down, I looked around me, and I saw twelve other kids with the same exact scared and worried look on their faces.  Suddenly, I felt relief.  If those kids were only worried about how they did, then I was playing to a deaf audience.  Even if the parents were listening, if I messed up, it would be "cute" to the parents.  That day I felt relaxed when I performed piano because I was not playing for myself.  I didn't know what I was playing for, but I had fun that day.  It's a shame that I lost that mentality when it came to violin though.
       When I switched violin teachers a couple months ago, I corrected my technic.  For the first time, I was able to physically relax while playing.  But I was still very anxious.  I kept thinking "I should be so much further along in my studies of violin.  I've lost so much time.  I should at least be playing a higher leveled song than THAT guy."  Then I was reminded music, no life, is NOT a competition.  Even if it was, none of my friends or family or God will love me any less if I fail.  I stepped on to the platform to play Bach's partita in d minor, Allemande.  As the notes vibrated off my violin, I realized what it meant to have fun while playing.  I realized why I play violin.  Playing with the mindset that God won't love me ANY less or more if I played greatly or played horribly eliminated any stress or worry that I had that night.  After all, " Perfect love casts out fear".
         Granted, my performance was not perfect, but that made all the difference.  Mistakes, of all things, show that we tried.  The common response from a parent watching their little child mess-up during a performance is "that's cute, at least they're trying".  We are like little children to God.  As He watches us perform imperfectly, tears stream down His face as he thinks "They're trying to please me".  As a mere child, we will never be able to succeed our heavenly father's expectations.  But trying and knowing that God will still love us is all we need for perfection.
         Don't stress, don't worry, just try, cause God loves you.  Enjoy performances, Enjoy papers, Enjoy life.