The greatest thing I've ever done, & The greatest thing I'll ever do.

For me the greatest thing I've ever done, is to take care of someone else.  It is in my calling, and my nature to be needed.  To give and love unconditionally is the greatest thing I could ever do.

Frederick Turner

 I feel the need to give more recognition to Fred Turner.  He has actually had a really big impact on my life, in the way I visualize life itself.  After hearing Mr. Turner speak mainly in class it's like a light bulb went off in my head.  I began to start writing my Mythic Detective Paper, and all I could think about was what all Mr. Turner had to say about Knowledge and how there is no limits etc.  Those words made me feel a little more free as to what I could write about, and how I would write it.  Mr. Turner seems to be so in touch with everything, from his childhood to science and of course epic.  He speaks freely, and with meaning.  I realize that a lot of his stories are about him.  His words of choice where beautiful, and a perfect way to describe life as it is and life as it will be.  Hearing Mr. Turner speak was a life long memory I'll never forget, because it started a new beginning for me!

My Life As Rebekah Discovering Mythology

My Life As Rebekah

Approaching life from the beginning, I am captured with the ability to have an imagination where I can dream endlessly. I have been given the unsought gift of the pursuit of knowledge, where there is no limits.  In the depth of my heart I burst from the seams with readiness to soak in a life where I feel no pain, but peace. I feel the blood running through my veins, creating a heartbeat that has a rhythm filled with a song that tells a story.  A story where thinking is life and it is effortless. If I live a life worth living, then what is this life? My life is a branching paradox with layers of singular mythological stories, an unbalanced equation of matter and chemicals shrunk down to a neuron or a microbe impossible for the naked eye to see. I am a homo sapien with a Genesis on a lifelong journey to a Revelation.  A human being with moral value that has a fate in the abstract, the constant never ending loopholes of elite problematic possibilities and the misfiring reality of stories and words screaming for release beneath the surface of my breath, falling into a creation longing to live until death do us part.  Living and breathing, I feel the touch of my own soul, the vibration of love offered unconditionally without a thought.  To have a feeling is unforgotten  It is more than a touch, it's life running through your entire being from the top of your head to the soles of your feet permeating every cell in between.  The transformation in between equals the middle that creates a shape of the Da Vinci man, a circle telling a true story of a  living, factual human being.   It's an irrevocable, unequivocal romantic behavior and physical action shedding light to the destination of my own fate.  A pronounced euphoria, and verbatim repetition starting from infancy and leading to youth, being the center of gravity. This is the magic in the middle.  The unity of wholeness, the peak of your best that forever longs inside the analytical mind.  A dynamic energy addresses the human psyche, where the seat of the soul lays his head on the pillow of a peculiar pituitary gland.  The softness of a reassuring voice kneels down to whisper in my ear that today is the day where life is to never end.

But where there is an end, there is a new beginning.  As I lay there, feeling the sensation of my soul leaving my body and the heartbeat drop to a silence, now I've naturally become cold and paralyzed to the feeling we call death; but death is everlasting.  The ending genre of life, the corpse and beautiful escape of epic and love.   The freedom of  being a human being.  The mythological stories that produce justification of integrity and faithfulness that falls like a tear drop from one's eyes.                

The love, the hate, the promising, it's like a weeping willow tree that continues to grow, accept, forgive and never forget the knowledge that has been portrayed to one's heart.   Like the Black Beauty moment when a horse has all four feet off the ground at the same time, forming a perfectly shaped heart signifying being completely captured in timing following balance of an untouchable moment. It's the feel of a rawhide Reata rope in a cowboy or horseman's hands as he prepares to throw a loop. It's being hypnotized by the big eyes on a beautiful peacocks tail, as it stops you dead in your tracks. 

I am not in limbo, I am at life approaching the end of death from the beginning.  You manifest in your own tenacious prodigy.  The impulsive stigma to be or not to be is still a life everlasting statistic.  Always fearfully awakening the intuitive moment of knowing that death is at the horizon of your subconscious. Lost for words and being frozen in the moment when a beautiful blue butterfly flies into the sky leaving you to feel as if life was worth living for.  The stillness of nature, like water under a bridge as your body has a keen since of ability to adapt and adjust to acceptance of what is. The cries that leave the human eyes coming from the pit of true heart, and knowing that being saddened by one's death is okay, because dying a free man is more precious.  The Angel of Death comes through and lifts my spirit right from my body like a seizure you have no control over.  Feeling no pain, but the touch of a God.  A reassuring kiss from your lover that cares for you so deeply, the warmth of your children surrounding you on your dying day, the peace that lies within one's deepest heart.  Death is peaceful, and easy, but life is beautifully harder.  This is my story, this is my song. It's the gory but grotesque moment when a gladiator piercingly cleaves another mans head from his shoulders with his sword, and penetrating his skin,  spilling his ruby blood upon the sand and taking his last breath away as he is hemorrhaging at the base of his collar bone. In this, he is saving himself from slavery. On that day the world saw a slave rise up to become even more powerful then Caesar himself. At that brief time, the scales of life were for once balanced. Indeed there is victory in death itself. One man's death opens a door way to another one's birth. Consequently, I notice how life changes you on the inside in ways you never thought it could, like the incredible anxiety I get before giving a presentation, or the minute you're caught up listening to the clicking and ticking of an old antique clock.  The twinkling in a mother's eyes watching her little girl's strawberry curls bouncing in the wind while she plays ring-around-the-rosy. It's not the beauty and the beast, its the beauty in the beast. It's not just the Christ in the Christian, it's the example led by the Christian within. It's the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. It's the supernatural in reincarnation. Common sense is like finding sane in the insane.  It's the touch of a baby's finger tips and the outline of their fingernails, the memorization of one's face, the blush on your wife's cheek or her soft pink lips that lay against her profile, the kicking life inside a mother's womb carrying her child. It's the fight to survive and the light at the end of the tunnel.  It's the shirt off your back to someone you don't know.  It's the southern humidity that lays across the surface of a pond, the crickets calling their mate and the frogs resting on Lillie pads. 

The taste you get from a honeysuckle flower on your tongue and the lightning bugs giving light to a dark adventurous trail. It's the emptiness you get when a glass is half full.  It's the magical moment a big brother rocks his baby sister to sleep, singing an old hymn called, “Peace, Peace Wonderful Peace” just to bring calmness to her saddened heart. It's the Fountain of Youth, the history in the making.  It's the unfair, sick, unjust, merciless, masochistic incestuous act of rape, forced upon an innocent human being.  It's signs and symbols. Like the symbolical moment a father notices the tiny embellishment of lace on his daughter's veil before he gives her away.  It's for better or for worse, sickness and in health.  It's the echoing sound of a Celtic violin providing healing to a wounded heart.

I dream like no mortal ever dares to dream. Like a light house shinning bright for ships to see at the time of twilight standing close to the sea. A prestigious realm outlined like Orion's belt, twinkling in the dark of the night. It's the dangerous diagnosis, the pathogenesis, the etiological decaying of life, the picture that paints itself, the hierarchy that empowers one within. The burning desire to feel life leaking from the pores of your subcutaneous tissue.  The moment your beloved draws you near, close to their skin. Beginning the dance with the tango, and ending with the fox trot.  This is the Circle of Life, the never ending chase of acceptance, the opposite of superficial, the genuine sincerity. The act of forgiveness and the letting go of someone's hand, knowing that this may be their last moment of life, or better yet, your last moment to live. The narcissistic mirror image of one's self, feeling the trip of ecstasy and seeing the unseen image of your own soul.  You are only inferior to yourself. Life is originally ritualistic.  It starts and ends where it originates.

Life is the transmigration of souls; there is no death and only change.  It's the philosophical, mundane call to adventure. It's the trail of tears. It is the precedent behind every action. It's Mythology!

Evaluation for Dr. Sexson Blog Style

 I know in all the classes I've ever taken, they always hand out a survey for you to fill out giving the teacher an evaluation.  I think by posting it on the blog it makes it more personal and real!  If I rate Dr, Sexson 1-10, hands down it's a 10.  And poor to excellent, it's definitely excellent.

 

Dr. Sexson,

 

 It has been an honor to have had the opportunity to be a student of yours.  Your style of teaching keeps me very much at home and always at peace.   There isn't a single time you came into the classroom that I can ever remember a dull moment.  Your heart speaks loud and clear, and you draw your students' attention in a way that is speechless.  I wouldn't have you change a thing.  There where times I worried about what the schedule was for that week, but you kept us all at ease and communicated with us about what to expect next.  I appreciate you realizing that all students have a different way of learning, and that there is no such thing as a cookie cutter student, at least not in Mythology.  The picture you have painted for all of us has opened my eyes to dream big and be happy.  Thank you for accepting me for me. 

My Final View of the Class

When I signed up for this class, I was not really sure what to expect.  Boy was I in for a surprise.  Overall I was blown away.  I think the class as a whole was awesome.  Everybody's presentations where great.  The blogs where awesome to read.  I don't think I could have picked a better class to be a part of.  However, we had an incredible person leading us by example.  I would take this class over and over again as long as Dr. Sexson was teaching it of course.  I have discovered Mythology in ways I didn't even know existed.  Mythology is everywhere.  Like Dr. Sexson has mentioned throughout the class, every time you walk out the door you step on a myth.  Mythology has opened up my eyes to be able to write more freely.  This is the only class I've ever been in that is so relaxed and allows me to be me. 

A Coincidence Within a Childhood Memory

 Throughout the weeks, I was undecided how I wanted to approach my final paper My Life As a Mythic Detective.  Meanwhile, I began thinking that I would include a few of my childhood memories that I found to be the most memorable and meaningful to me.

 

    One particular memory stood out the most.  This memory involves my older red headed brother Matt.  From the time I was born to about the age of 3 I used to cry a lot.  It use to bother my brother Matt, but not in a way that it was annoying.  It was more so in a way that I believe he felt bad for me.  Many evenings he would rock me to sleep, and while doing so he always sang to me an old hymn called "Peace Peace Wonderful Peace".

 

 

    This is one of the memories I have written about in my final paper.  The other day, I was talking with my Mother on the phone, and I was sharing what I had written my final paper about.  She was amazed with my paper and what I had written.  Mom brought up the memory I wrote about involving Matt and I and said that she was talking to Matt last week, and he had brought up the same memory to her.  I thought to myself,  "Well what a coincidence?".  Matt must have been reliving the same memory I was, pretty close to the same time I was.   I think Matt realized at that moment in his life how bad I really needed him, or better yet how bad he really needed me. 

 

 

This was a very special memory.  One that I will never forget as long as I live.  Even a coincidence can keep those memories alive. 

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ZnbPvYh9jg

 

Displacement Stories and Turner

As I was reading through everyone's blog, Aaron's struck me the most.  I found the way he displaced his story to be extremely clever. From the time we began reading it in class to when he disclosed it, I thought, "This could be about many different stories in Ovid's Metamorphosis".  This takes me back to reading the Signs and Symbols written by Vladimir Nabokov.  The way Aaron presented his story really kept me guessing and I'm sure many others as well.  I think everyone did exceptionally well writing their displacement stories. 

 

Thursday evening we had the pleasure of hearing author Fredrick Turner recite some of his wonderful poetry.  Turner has a way of drawing his audience in so they feel as if they are actually a part of what he has captured and presented in his writing. He sure did open the gate to my imagination as I was one who was privileged to be sitting in the crowd totally captivated by what I was hearing.  I am looking forward to actually hearing him speak his words of wisdom in Mythology class today.