Lent sucks.

I like pushing myself. I've moved across the country with nothing more than what fit in my car. Twice. I've run a marathon. I've gone back to school to chase a dream. I write papers on hard issues and research things that even wikipedia doesn't know. I reflect and write and analyze who I am and why I do the things I do. And... I practice Lent.

Lent: when you give up something for 40 (or 46) days in order to prepare yourself for Holy Week (the week before Easter). But this year, Lent did not leave me feeling refreshed or glad or happy. I just felt exhausted. Burnt out. Anxious. Doubtful. Inadequate. In the last month and a half, I've felt disconnected from my friends, misunderstood by my family, been keenly aware of my own faults and shortcomings, and felt like I've become this dulled and blurry version of myself.

And there's probably a good season for these feelings and experiences. It's probably a good idea to feel sober about the crucifixion. But Easter has come and gone and I don't feel any different. In fact, I feel really vulnerable and needy. (which the ladies love...)

But you know what? Where would we really be without those times? If we existed on cloud 9 each and every day? Life would suck, that's what. It's these times that help me put life in perspective. I should feel vulnerable and needy because, well, I am. We all are. If you feel confident and together and unattached, there's something wrong with you. Have you looked at the stars lately? Have you seen light that's traveled for hundreds or thousands of years to reach your eyes? Have you remembered that you're flying through space on a hunk of rock at unfathomable speeds? Have you forgotten that your life hangs from a thread and we are alive by the slimmest of margins? Each moment is a gift, even if it's a miserable moment.

The problem with humans is our perspective. We're so stuck seeing the world out of our own jaded eyes.

I was watching the Passion of the Christ this last week (which I love), and really loved the way they fleshed out the personality of Jesus. I could relate to this guy. So many Christians have turned Jesus into this celestial alien who descended from another planet (and I'm not talking about Mormons here). But this guy was full of emotion and feeling, of happiness and love, but also full of sorrow and despair. He was constantly getting away to be by himself, frustrated with the people around him, and eventually murdered by the very people he dedicated himself to.

So many people claim to follow him, but so few people like the dude. I dig Jesus. He got life and death on this level that so few people ever even consider. For instance - perspective. When it came to seeing the world a certain way, Jesus told this religious leader he had to be born from above. Being born on the ground apparently isn't enough. Our consciousness is too close to the meaningless drivel that powers the day-to-day life we live.

Being born from above means entering into an entirely new way of seeing the world. From above, things look different. It's suddenly not about trivialities and grudges and terrible reality tv shows. It's about the big picture. From above, humanity shares our space with clouds and mountains and rivers and sunrises and seasons and forces of nature. But we've pushed ourselves and our perceptions onto a pedestal that we worship.

And I get so sick of the energy I waste on ridiculous things! What Jesus didn't tell us what that when you're born from above, you fall to the ground. It's this weird process of getting pulled back in, then transcending it all once again. Born from above again. and again. and again. Each time higher than the last.

And I just realized that maybe the story of Jesus' ascension has something to do with this teaching. Born from above? Ascending above it all?

Can we ever escape the gravitational pull of this false life?