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Copyright 2014 Brianna Wiest. All rights reserved.
Second edition, 2020.
Published by Thought Catalog Books, an imprint of the digital magazine Thought Catalog, which is owned and operated by The Thought & Expression Company LLC, an independent media organization based in Brooklyn, New York and Los Angeles, California. For bulk purchasing enquiries, please visit shopcatalog.com/about.
This book was produced by Thought Catalog. Designed by KJ Parish. Illustration by Deborah Panesar.
Visit us on the web at thoughtcatalog.com and shopcatalog.com.
Made in the USA.
ISBN 978-1-945796-01-2
Table of Contents
Introduction
T his book is a compilation of work that was written at different periods of my life, inspired by different events, but all somehow found its way to Thought Catalogs homepage. There are ideas here that are windows into very personal parts of my life, and I give them to you because I hope that in some way you can relate. Whatever advice I have been able to give has only been because of the authors and teachers I have studied and learned from. So for what they have given me, I would like to say thank you, and to note that if any ideas or concepts that I have relayed here go uncredited, I did not do so intentionally, but rather these ideas have had such an impact on me that they are essentially a part of my own thinking and ideology.
When doing writing of this nature, I try to be honest, be vulnerable, give it all Ive got and hope that I can ease someone else as the words of others far greater than I have eased me. I have written many things that are deeply personal and I still wince at the thought of other people reading and knowing so much about me. But I do so because I sincerely hope you regard this, and my work in general, as a place to come when your soul needs soothing, something to remind you that your experiences are universal, that you are not alone, and that when things look the most hopeless, you are usually not far from a breakthrough.
I would also like to give a huge thank you to a few people: to Chris and my other talented coworkers at Thought Catalog, Thank you for the opportunity at hand. I am forever grateful. For those who have helped me on my own personal and spiritual journey and for those who have not; for those who have loved me but especially for those who have not: thank you. All of the pieces somehow fit together at the end of the day and I wouldnt be who or where I am without what I have experienced. Of course, for my family, friends who are like family (hi, Ally!) and readers: Thank you for always coming back and hearing what I have to say. I do not claim to know it all, but I just want to give you what I have and hope that it helps you in whatever way you need your life to be helped right now. Happy reading.
The Cataclysmal & Inconsequential
I f youve never realized how small you are, you should stop to think about the reality of your existence. The universe is vast and cataclysmal and you are an inconsequential speck in the span of it. And yet you are still an integral and necessary being without whose presence the world would not be how it is. Isnt that in itself miraculous?
Our finite brains cant comprehend the enormity of the state we live in, let alone the universe in which we reside. A universe that is just as alive as we are. A universe that, somehow, we still control and affect. Because as much as life is an illusion, it is also poignant and remarkable. You are given what you need. There is a greater force at work that we theorize about but cant quite definitely understand. And maybe thats just how it needs to be. Because if everything were explained, there would be nothing left to figure out. There would be no journey or development or growth. We are all essentially still in a childlike state when you consider what we know compared to the knowledge of the universe. But we lose the wonder.
We lose the wonder because we are gutted by our lives. We are literally and metaphorically cut open, killed and left to either resurrect ourselves or sit in that nothingness. What compels me to believe in humanity, and what keeps me in love with people, is that most often, we choose the former.
You do have love. Its surrounding you and its brought you here. Its so easy to forget where you are when you stare at the same four walls day in and day out. You can feel as though your part-time job waiting tables yields no consequence. But all while youre distracted by the mundane and the ordinary, the miraculous surrounds you, youre just blind to it.
There are stars colliding and life is evolving and things are transforming and existence is coming and going, it is, always will, and has been even in the 5 seconds it just took you to read that sentence. Whenever you feel hopeless, all you need to do is go outside and realize that you have been molded into human form for some reason. You are somewhere you may never be again. Your actions, no matter how inconsequential you think they may be, have been essential.
Pain is part of the process. Its part of the miraculousness. You see it when light shines through storm clouds, in the refracting lights of supernovas, in the fact that you must be in a physical state to comprehend the physical things around yousight, sound, material. But it is also those senses that facilitate your pain. All of these things are rooted in suffering, and yet they all yield the miraculous. So be here. Be part of what youre sewn into. Bloom where youre planted. Be aware of the greatness that you are and realize that without you, the seaming of this mysteriously interconnected world would cease to exist as it is. Hope is never gone; its just ignored.
You Are My Home
I remember the first time I heard your voice. I can still remember telling you how soothing I found it, how much it calmed me. It still does, even though were strangers. Youre silent, but your words are still very much alive in me. You are my home, even though the door is locked and the lights are off.
Its not a choice as much as it is a beautiful nagging thats nearly impossible to ignore. But Im locked out, left to wander, and Ive found myself here. I know I left in a childish fit, and you locked the iron gate so tightly; you had to. So I was left out in the darkness, just me and the shadows that haunted me, the ones that led me away from you to begin with. You left me outside to face them. You wouldnt let me lean on you to deal with them anymore.
You are my home because you are the place I choose to return to over and over again. The place that, even when painful, means the most. You are my home because you have made me who I am, whether or not you realized what you were doing. You are my home because you showed me the best kind of love there is.
You showed me real, genuine, love-you-so-much-it-hurts-and-changes-me-at-my-core love. It was a blissful combination of finally feeling alive mixed with the most painfully difficult challenge I never thought Id have to deal with. I didnt know I could ever feel so strongly that Id end up there.
