Music

I once heard someone I knew describing why she likes absolutely loves the band The Fray. She said:

Their songs have meaning, you know? Like it actually came from somewhere and they experienced it!

She said this as if this were a novel concept in the world of music, and that this is what makes them totally unique in the large world of musicians. Funny, I've been listening to lots of music that came from somewhere; is this part of a new wave?
Unfortunately, all we have these days in the way of popular music is the neverending cycle of "Love you so and never wanna let you go" songs. Or those horrid breakup songs which we all know have no emotions behind them, because really, you have to be some kind of douchebag to write a song to your significant other about how you no longer want to date them so that they don't know how you really feel until the song is on the radio. Everyone thinks Miley Cyrus's "The Climb" is just so damn deep, and that "Fall For You" by Secondhand Serenade is just so touching. "The Climb" took a bunch of studio writers to help Ms. Cyrus write, and it was a product of a movie, so it's all fake; and "Fall For You" portrays hardly any emotion, if you listen to it. It's nice, but it's not what people think it is.
I think that music these days has been severely diluted. To find someone like Jason Mraz or John Mayer is almost rare now. To wedge oneself in the music industry is all too easy: look good, sing decently, be very friendly, and you're in. The funny part is that looking good is the most rigorous part. Take a look at Cassie. All looks? I do think so. It's especially a hint when the songs are spelled in text message language.
My favorite is "Soulja Boy"'s song that all the kids dance to and is really freaking disgusting. I won't deny it, I know the dance, and it can be fun. But in the song, "Soulja Boy" is rapping about how pissed he is that his girlfriend didn't give him any last night, and so he's so blue-balled about it that he's going to rub one out and make sure the ensuing fluid lands all over her while she's sleeping. And the kid was 16 when he recorded it. Corruption? I think so. But that's another issue.
The point is that music can be used so well to portray emotion, to touch people, to express what words can't dare to do, to take the artist and listeners to another world where everything is what they want it to be. And yet, it's being further and further reduced into a tool for enjoyment, and a mood enhancer, like a drug. People will play music because they're sad and want to be happy again. In this function, it is no more than an antidepressant. Others will play music so they can dance. In this function, it is no more than Ecstasy. Some will just play it as background noise. In this function... wait, this makes it have no function.
I remember when I was younger, I thought that this was what it was. How when JoJo was 13 years old when her single "Leave (Get Out)" was on the radio, and a bunch of critics went up in arms because, first of all, it's another breakup song, and second of all, she was just too young to sing about such things. How I was her age and thought, It's just a song; who really cares? Because this is what I had gathered that music was. Entertainment. Who cares where it came from? It's just a nice sound.
I have since discovered that music does have genres for nice sounds: Ambience. Techno. Dance.
But then there are those other genres that we primarily use as expression and inspiration for others: Rock. Easy listening. Pop. Rhythm & Blues. Soul. Jazz. Funk.
Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. I think I'm being a little bit pompous here, since I'm so young and haven't even experienced much in the way of music. But it just frustrates me a great deal to see such a wonderful art be brought down to such a low sometimes.

My walks.

So I go on these insanely long walks around this city. Yes, city, not town. Because really? This place is huge. And I don't just "walk around town". Honey, I go into other neighborhoods. I walk until no one knows who I am within a mile radius. I walk until my head is completely clear and I am sweating like a pig in a sauna.
You wanna know why I go on these walks?
Well, because I wanna lose weight.
You wanna know why else I go on these walks?
To gain serious perspective.
I mean, I didn't really notice that until later walks. But it really does help me gain perspective on the world.
See, the city I live in is pretty damn big. There are so many areas with such different people and structures; it's amazing. I'll be walking through my little blah area and then enter a whole brochure-perfect wonderland that makes me want to beg someone who lives in one of the multi-million dollar homes if I can be adopted just so I can live amongst all that beauty. Then I'll be walking through wacky-and-weird-land, where there are street performers galore and people in costume and whatnot. And then suddenly, hi there, I'm passing by a bunch of restaurants, and then there are just a ton of concert halls, and then whaddya know, I'm back at Fancypantsville again, resisting the urge to buzz myself in the front gate.
I don't know how people can say they don't like this city. They always are. I'm constantly hearing critiques about this place, about how dumb it is, how overrated it is, yadda yadda yadda. Some people haven't even been here and just criticize the industry we have, some people have only stayed in one neighborhood, and some people get off at the train station and just jump right back on because, dammit, they put the train station in one helluva shady area. But no one sees the whole thing! They don't see the beautiful areas and the bustling areas and the nice little friendly homeowners' association areas; just Hollyweird. (Yeah, okay, I live in Los Angeles. Born and raised. And loving it.) And I didn't either; I used to just see my own little nondescript area and, well, Hollywood. Oh, yeah, and the beach and Disneyland; when you're little in Southern California, that's pretty much what you know. But there's so much more to this place! There's Beverly Hills and Bel-Air (Fancypantsville)! And downtown (bustling areas)! And sure, there are the shady areas, like where the train station is (also a part of downtown) and East L.A., but the city as a whole is pretty frickin' cool!
I realized that this is like every instance in life where we have to see the big picture, and not just the up-close details.
I will rant no more, because that pretty much sums it up, and I'm tired.

Get yourself dressed instead
Of running around and pulling at your threads and
Breaking yourself up

The mysterious workings of the world

I stuff envelopes in my mom's office sometimes. Today was one of those times. And while I was doing that, I noticed some addresses that I routinely walk by on my nice walks around the city. So, of course, the next time I walk by these, I'm gonna be like, hey, I sent you that memo from my mom's office. You are a part of that organization. Cool.
But the people inside that house are totally not going to notice. Sure, they might see a vaguely sweaty female strolling by their house and kinda peering at it, but they'll be used to it, since they're in a nice neighborhood and all. They will not realize that I work at the office of that one of many organizations they subscribe to, and that I actually know them, because in their world, I don't exist.
I know I have said something like this before, but the subject completely fascinates me.
(Plus I am on a roll, but that's beside the point.)
My momentary fangirliness over Jason Mraz kind of reminded me of all this. Because here I am, with a blog based on the fundamental concepts of one of his songs, practically worshipping his sage advice, and he doesn't even know. Because he doesn't know who I am, this person with a whole army of words that she lets out every now and then. He leads a completely different life, doing one of the coolest things out there (inspiring people with what inspires him and just sharing his gift with the world), while I can only dream to do so and am at the training stage to the marathon he's won.
So fascinating.

Life. It's more valuable than you realize.

So today, I was kind of getting frustrated with my computer and my sisters.
And then my dad told me that two people he knew died of unknown causes. One of them sat 2 seats away from me at a dinner last summer. And now she's no longer with us.
Made me realize how little my problems were, and that I should just calm down and take a deep breath whenever I get stressed about such little problems, because really, life is so much more than just whatever goes wrong in the moment.
I'm not saying it's bad to get upset; we're all human. But I feel that I really need to work on myself and put things more in perspective.

Calm down, deep breaths
And get yourself dressed instead
Of running around and pulling all your threads and
Breaking yourself up

Face the music (ha, ha)

So I suddenly had "15 Step" by Radiohead floating in my head this morning and I really wanted to listen to it, so I did. Then, it was in my head pretty much all day, so I started listening to it again. And again. And again.
And now I'm realizing that this song is making me think majorly, and I was totally supposed to listen to it to begin with. (It's on repeat right now.)
So this reminds me of not Divine Intervention, as you who probably think I'm all religious think, but rather to facing problems.
Because, see, when I had a song in my head, I used to think the goal was simple: get it out. So I'd listen to other music, and the song would be in my head. But then a couple of days later, it would suddenly just pop in there and just not leave. And then I'd listen to that song, and then other music, and BAM, instant cure.
I see this as an analogy to our problems: we let the furious thoughts stew in our heads, avoid the people/things that caused our problems completely, go on with our lives... but the problems aren't solved at all. So if we let the furious thoughts out, actually confront the people/things that cause our problems, and then go on with our lives, then BAM, instant cure.

Eureka!

So I told you I couldn't find the moon. And I still can't.
BUT.
I have figured out why.
See, I can't see the whole friggin' sky on any given day. Hell, no one can.
Duhhh.
I was so stupid to think that I was going to see the moon every single night without fail. I mean, I have a limited view from my little backyard.

So I've taken another lesson from this:
The moon is most definitely like God. And NOT that it is a God-like figure, but that its characteristics can seem similar. Of course God is greater.
But.
The moon is there. We know it's there, and we look for it. And most of the time, yeah, we see it. There are times when we know we won't be able to see it, and so we don't expect to see it there, but we still know it's there. And there are times when, suddenly, it's not visible to us. We panic and wonder where it could be and what could have possibly happened to it, but then, we remember--it's always there, and is never going to fully disappear; we just may not see it at that given point in time.
So, too, with God.

A night of Random Inspiration part 2

I have become obsessed with the moon.
I know that sounds really strange, but it's true.
Whenever I go outside at night to take out the garbage, I just kinda stare at it for a couple of minutes and wonder why it's so pretty and bright.
So tonight, I kept going in and out of my parents' house, which has this great view of the moon in the backyard. Sometimes, it'd be there in full view, shining bright white through the freshly cleared sky. Other times, it would be completely obstructed by a cloud, but I'd still see a faint white glow around the edge of the cloud that was blocking it, letting me know that although I couldn't see it, my moon was still there.
Of course, this is like God, and we all knew I was heading down that road.
But there's another thing to it.
So how do I know that the moon is still there? For all I know it could've just disappeared, says the supercynic!
But I see the stars. I see the dark night sky, and I see the bright white light radiating off of all the clouds. So the moon must still be there. And, sure enough, it is.
Just because we don't see something right away doesn't mean we can't figure out that it's there due to its surroundings.
Not everything is in our field of vision.

A night of Random Inspiration

Wow. Do I have a lot to say tonight.
I spent all day with my mother, so when that happens, I learn a lot of lessons.
So here goes...

I had to head out to the garage with my sister as part of helping our mom with spring cleaning. My sister yelled into the house, "Where's the light?" I started heading for the light switch, while my mom starting going on about how there wasn't any, and how she'd wanted the Handyman to fix it, and oh, no, what are we going to do? Then she called out, "The switch is by the door! We need to fix it!" I then switched on the light, looked at her quizzically, and said, "It works fine." And she went quiet.
It's weird, because things like this happen a lot in my life that I totally didn't realize until I switched on the light.
See, growing up, if I screwed up or didn't know how to do something quite right, my mother would make a big fuss about it and wonder how someone else could possibly fix it, because it was such a big issue! And then I'd come right up behind her and do it right, and she'd be absolutely stunned.
No trust in even turning on a light.
I could try and word it all poetically right now, but really, it all boils down to this:
Just trust people.
Especially when they're trustworthy.
And super-especially when it's something really dumb, like turning on a freaking light.

the Ultimate Plan

I have been trying since January to get together with some of my long distance friends, and it never works out.
Ever.
I have counted a total of 5 times where it hasn't worked out. And, ironically enough, two of those times were because I was too busy serving God to go and meet with them.
So, naturally, I think God is involved.
I mean, honestly, how else would all my plans be crushed every single friggin' time?
Or maybe I'm just supposed to only be able to meet up with them when I'm completely independent from my family. I have no idea.
All I know is that God is planning something for me and that everything is for the best. (Say I as I blow my top with rage and let the fear of missing out eat at my insides.)
Optimism is good for your health sometimes.
I believe I said that already. But it's too true.

Life is unfair.

You'll just keep hoping things will turn out great, or even just good, and when they turn out completely wrong, you get totally pissed. But really, it's all because, well, life is unfair. We need to get used to it.
And it's really freaking difficult.
But as someone pretty damn wise once said, everything turns out right in the end, so if it's not right, it's not the end.
Optimism is good for your health sometimes.

Selfishness is like people.

It comes in all different shapes and sizes.
It can be good and it can be seriously evil.
You will never truly know it unless it's yours.

Remember when I made that post about everything being selfish?
Well, selfishness comes on many different levels.
And I didn't elaborate on that.
And I really, really, REALLY should have.

So here's the deal.
We all ultimately are pulled by our own emotions, which makes us selfish.
As in, we really want those last two pieces of bread for a random sandwich, but our sister didn't have lunch yet and we did, so we give her the bread, which we think is selfless, but then all of a sudden we feel this happy, brewing, bubbly feeling and realize that we did it for the happiness that comes from being nice.
That's the good side of being selfish.
The bad side is the one we all know and totally hate.
Like when both you and your roommate oversleep and wake up at 7:20. You have to be at work at 7:45 and you have to take a 10-minute walk to get there, while she has someone picking her up at 7:30. Basically, she has five less minutes than you do, but you both have to rush regardless. Usually, when you both are in a serious rush, you do everything you can to help each other. But this roommate is seriously anal. She just keeps telling you to get out of her way while explaining during her entire 10-minute rush why it's more important that she be ready first. So you're left to brush your teeth out in the hallway while she takes a crap, have to wait two whole minutes for her to be finished stealing your brush, are pushed away from washing your hands in the sink after peeing so she can rinse her face off, and are consequently five minutes late, while she makes it to her carpool right on time.
This happened to me today, in case you couldn't tell.
And it's not the first time.

People have to really watch it when they're being selfish. It's oh-so-nice when you tell others how you want to be a doctor when you're older so you can save lives and then they all go and fawn over you, but let's face it, we know you want the money. And that's what people do everyday--they smile and wave and say good morning, but let's face it, we know they just want to be praised. Because they just go back to being assholes behind closed doors.

Individual lives = individual worlds

It's kind of funny that the word "individual" literally means "one who cannot be divided".
Which is probably why we like to use the word "human" more. Or "person".
Anyway.
A few years ago, I took to people watching.
Everyone always asks, "How is people watching different from just walking by people everyday and sort of staring at them to creep them out?"
The difference is that you acknowledge that each person you pass by is an individual with their own story, their own life, their own world, really.
My favorite people-watching story just happened last Friday.
I was walking to a nearby elementary school like I do every Friday to just kind of hang out with the kids as charity work when I saw this dude angrily throwing backpacks and stuff out of his car and onto the sidewalk. The car wasn't moving, it was parked, but he was definitely pissed.
Most people would walk by this guy thinking something along the lines of these:
"Okay, really? He needs to not get mad on the street."
"Dude, seriously. I almost stepped on your backpack. Watch it."
"It's finally sunny out! Why so pissy?"
"Someone's constipated...!"
But I envisioned myself in his shoes.
I noticed the woman walking out of the house behind him and into her way-fancier-than-his car give him a dirty look.
And I thought, man, this guy for sure just got dumped. He probably wasn't all that well-off, and now the girl's gotten tired of him and realizes what a good-for-nothing he is (or so she thinks) and wants him out. So he's now pissily unloading his things/loading them in and just not able to do it right because he has to go build his life all over again.
And then I come back into my own reality.
And I think, dang, I am just SO lucky to be listening happily to Ernie Halter on my iPod and able to walk the streets in a relaxed manner.
And I just get so creeped out by the fact that my life doesn't matter at all in his; that he doesn't even know I passed by randomly on the street that day and totally contemplated what his life's all about. Because his life is going on. And it does not include me at all.
Not that I didn't discover this after the first person I watched.
It's just that each feeling is its own; like wow, I just discovered a new world.
This guy just happened to be the most obvious how-can-you-not case, and yet I seemed to be the only one noticing. But the best part is that I don't even know that. There could have been some other girl or guy looking on from one of the windows in the numerous apartment buildings that were lined up all down the street or one of the houses. I don't know that. Because my life is completely detached from theirs.
I think everyone should people-watch; I think everyone should get that rude awakening of how the world really doesn't revolve around them, how it's all in perspective.
I mean, Copernicus realized that just because we're the ones who live on Earth doesn't mean that we're the main event or center of it all in the solar system.
It's about time that each person realizes that just because they live their life and see life through their eyes doesn't mean that they're the main event or center of it all in the grand scheme of life.

Oh, those politics.

My friend once said a very smart thing: the word "politics" could be interpreted as having the prefix "poly-", meaning "many", and then there's the root of "tics", meaning "blood-sucking parasites". So politics = many blood-sucking parasites. Works, no? xD
So here's the thing: everyone's either "liberal" or "conservative", or "crazy"; respectively, Republican or Democrat, or some independent party. Everyone's views are everyone's business these days.
Since I've been learning more extensively about the American government these days, I realized that in the actual government, these liberals and conservatives, Democrats and Republicans, will also have their clashes.
I've been reading about the different forms of federalism we've had over the years, and the most recent development happened after 9/11 with the Patriot Act and stuff. After I read about what it was (the government being able to take aside anyone they suspect is a terrorist), I thought that there was no way everyone could have agreed on this. Liberals would have said that it's politically incorrect to stop just about anyone; they might be hurt by the fact that you said they look like a terrorist, and lots of racial profiling would ensue. Conservaties probably argued that it's necessary for the nation's safety, and are we really willing to let a potential terrorist pass by just because we did not want to hurt his feelings? (Which would be why the Patriot Act was passed.)
And it's kind of weird, because now that I think about it, my personality type would so be liberal, but I'm more middle of the road (with a bit of a conservative tendency).
See, here's the thing: I always worry about how people will feel and what people think and how the outcome is going to be just from the trail of emotions that would ensue. But at the same time, I know what's realistic, you know? Because not everyone is going to be happy all the time, but they'll eventually get over it, unless they're hopelessly stubborn and haven't grown up since they were 12.
So this is why I'm an emotional artist-type and yet more conservative. Thought I'd share. Not everything we think of is feasible; liberals and conservatives actually have the same ideas sometimes--liberals just want it NOW, while conservatives are taking realistic steps to get there.
In my opinion.

(Just in case anyone replies: "Conservatives are ____" (fill in the blank with anything negative) is not a valid argument.)

You don't know everything.

No one does. We're only human. Just as God holds the mysteries of the universe, each person has their own way of working and their own thoughts, and not everyone else has to understand them.
See, I can be forgetful at times. I have a seriously sharp memory; chances are if I don't remember it, it didn't happen to me. But when it comes to people telling me to do things or having to remember specific ideas, it's not so easy. I do have A.D.D., so when I am told one thing after the other, I get distracted doing one and then get carried away... you know how the story goes.
So apparently, I was supposed to call someone this week. My parents kept nagging me about it, but, you know, they're my parents. I don't really put their instructions in the forefront of my mind when I have to remember things that pertain to my being alive, so I kind of let it fall by the wayside.
The problem, though, is that this happens quite often; I get really busy and forget to do what my parents tell me to do. So today, my dad got pretty fed up with it.
"I don't understand how you can just forget to call her," he said. "Why is it so hard to remember? Or set a reminder in your phone? Or write it down? Something!"
"Well," I told him, "believe it or not, I do have other things I need to remember that take precedence. And my phone's reminder system stinks; it's not meant to be an organizer at all. And write it down?! Where? I'd lose the paper in two seconds."
At this point, my dad got really frustrated. I told him I didn't understand; he also has memory issues. Not like Alzheimer's or anything--he's not that old--but the same kind of issues that I have. So I thought that he, of all people, would understand. But no. He kept going on about how I need to "fix it".
I kept telling him that it's just me, and there's not much to do about it; that I just get distracted a lot of the time or have more important things to worry about, but he would have none of it.
"I'm sorry," I told him, "but my brain is not just some broken part I can fix."
Out of frustration, he went, "Yes. It is. It's broken. FIX IT."
After that, I marched out, fuming. My brain is not a broken part, or even a broken arm/limb. I think since it's just a vital organ, I have to face it, like the broken heart. And so does everyone else. But, apparently, since it's just "unfathomable", my parents don't want to face it.

Just because you don't understand what's going through someone's head does NOT mean that there's something to "fix". I really don't understand why I know that and my parents, who are way older than I am and therefore supposedly wiser, do not.

It's no use being stubborn.

Want to know why?
Let's say you have a relative in school. This relative is extraordinarily bright, and you think he can do anything he sets his mind to. He is in every single challenging class there is, and there is no way he can fail.
Until he does.
When he tells you he thinks he can't handle one of the classes anymore, you say, "Don't be stupid! You're so good at it. So you failed. Why?! Just try harder! You can do it!" Truth is, he hasn't exactly been trying his hardest, so he nods grimly and decides to go for it again.
Yet again, he's not doing well in that same class. You don't see him trying too hard, but he tells you he stresses out and does a lot of work; you just don't see it since you're not in school. After all, you're not attached at the hip or the same age or anything; you're already out of school, and you lived it very differently. You just wish that you had taken all the challenging courses because it would have made your life path better, so you advise him to do so. He complies again.
Three years later, he's taking the continuations of those same courses. He still can't do well in that one he always complains about. You tell him to just try, for crying out loud! After arguing, he grumbles and goes back to it.
The next week, you go over to visit him and he tells you that you have to leave; he's been studying all day for this test and needs to finally do well. Maybe this try will be different; maybe he'll do better. You beg him to stay; you're two hours away from home, if you could just sit and watch TV across the house without bothering him for a little bit, you'd be okay. He obliges. You keep sneaking peeks at him the entire time you're there; he's really killing himself over this test. When you finally leave, you feel so happy that you've finally seen him trying and are sure he will succeed.
A few days later, he calls you, fuming. "I completely bombed that last test," he says. "I just don't know why. I studied for hours. I swear, those tests are impossibly hard."
And then it hits you.
Maybe he just isn't suited to take that class.
You tell him this, and in an angry rage he says, "Well, DUHHH. That's what I've been trying to tell you for the past three years!"
And you didn't listen and kept encouraging him to do the impossible.

You know, it's great to encourage people, but when they keep failing, you just have to let it be and have them take a step down, because sometimes, they're just not ready.
Take this to heart before you learn it the hard way.

When life throws you a curveball, it's probably because you're at bat...

We all make mistakes, right?
So when we make a mistake, we tend to freak out a little, fix it, and move past it.
When others make mistakes, we tend to freak out a little, be mad for a few minutes, help fix it, and move past it.
Or so I wish.
While some simply win at life and have this kind of attitude, and while about a sixteenth as much as those people are saints and don't even freak out or get mad, most of us get seriously stressed when we or others make mistakes. If we make a mistake, we act like the world is ending and nothing's ever going to be right again... and then, what do you know, the next day does arrive.
And yet we learn nothing.
My favorite is when someone else makes a mistake and we mumble and grumble and yell at them all while doing the regular oh-no-it's-a-mistake routine; because then, it's not our fault, so the one happy notion we get out of this mistake is that we aren't the ones who did it. The only problem is, the fact that they did the mistake while life was SUPPOSED to be going on perfectly makes us twice as stressed out, so the joy of blaming another kind of dies.
To stay sane, here's something I preach and am learning to practice: just freaking DEAL.
I mean, really.
It's just a mistake.
See, I thought of (what I think, anyway, is) a pretty good illustration of mistakes: baseball.
People often refer to unexpected things as curveballs, right? So think of it like this:
You're at bat, bottom of the ninth, tied with two runs, bases loaded. From what you know about the pitcher, he only throws scary fastballs. You eat scary fastballs for breakfast. You're ready to hit a fastball when you notice that he's throwing a curveball! What the hell?! You don't do curveballs! What are you supposed to do?! He's not supposed to throw it! THIS IS NOT PART OF THE PLAN!
But WAIT--what's that you're holding? A... a bat? No way! And that's a ball! So you'll HIT IT! Oh wait--it's not even going to end up in the strike zone. "BALL!"
See? Crisis averted. You end up hitting a frickin' legendary grand slam on the next pitch, winning 6-2. It is allll good.
Now, let's pretend you're the coach, keeping an eye on your prize hitter when suddenly the pitcher turns and lobs a curveball at your head!
THAT, my friend, would be an issue. Not to mention the first time in baseball history that the pitcher got confused and thought the coach was going to somehow play, but whatever.
What I was trying to say throughout that whole weird baseball analogy is that even though you have your expectations about life, it's going to throw you things you didn't see coming. Thing is, it's still in the norm; just because it's different doesn't mean it's not life. (Just like it's still normal for the pitcher to throw the ball; just because he deviated from his usual plan doesn't mean you can't bat anymore.) These things are supposed to happen, and we're supposed to deal with them.
If life were just as we expected, it would be boooringgg.
So next time a mistake is made, try to just kinda face it...

If it's a broken part, replace it
If it's a broken arm, then brace it
If it's a broken heart, then face it

Well said, Jason. Well said.

Selfish?

When someone dies, do people mourn because they truly feel a loss, or because
they're afraid that the death was in part their fault and don't want it to stay on their
conscience?

I stumbled across this last night as part of a young girl's confession, and it has a sort of truth. What not everyone realizes is that nearly every emotion we feel is out of selfishness; this is why they are our emotions and not anyone else's. While we can act out of selflessness, we're not going to feel good about it.
True, there are those who take a sick pleasure in death. There are those who feel accomplished when avenging someone through death, or those who thrive off of reporting others’ deaths. However, the chief concern with a death that is not our own is the grief that settles in afterward.
In fact, in the case of death, mourning is only and always selfish. If you're sad that a person's gone, it is because you are missing them; not because you're sad that they no longer can enjoy life.
Not to say that this is a bad thing. If the point of life in the physical world was to be entirely selfless, then those you were sacrificing your own happiness for would be acting selfishly to accept your selfless offer.
A common misconception is that people are selfless when it comes to love; they say, “If they’re happy, I’m happy.” The second half of this statement is most important, however. “I’m happy.” In the end, you feel joy from your significant other’s happiness.
The word “selfish” has gained such a negative connotation. At most times, true, it does not denote something positive, but it’s the word that most describes human behavior—we’re all selfish. We all want what makes us happy, because being happy is the epitome of our existence.
While we shouldn't be piggishly selfish, we're put on this earth to serve God and be happy. So it's okay to mourn the loss of a loved one; it's okay to take that day for yourself. Although I definitely can’t say I know the meaning of life, I can say that life is enjoyed when happy; and the reason why we’re happy is because, ultimately, we’re selfish.