To see, and not believe.
To see, and to believe.
To believe, and not to see.
To believe, and to see.
Such is life, drifted away by its currents.
Passive, peaceful, no struggle in sight.
Until reality comes knocking.
You have not touched ground in days.
The panic sets in.
Curiously as a slow, insidious release of Adrenaline.
Not the gripping, cold fear you would expect.
It is a steady rise in heart rate
A cooling of your touch
A gradual shallowing of your breath.
An anxiety attack,
but not as you know it.
You maintain still posture,
lying on the surface in dread and fear.
Fear of living.
Fear of dying.
You decide to struggle.
Friday, November 4, 2016
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
Life, 2 Years On
It's been a really, really long time since I've recorded anything at all in the story of my life. Please excuse the poor writing; it's been a while since I've immersed myself in any reading literarily worthwhile.
Things have changed since I'd last written - well, to summarize where I'd left off, I was experiencing massive changes in my life: Completed my Physio degree, got a full time job in a public hospital, started a relationship, started serving in church and took up a leadership role there - things that really stretched and stressed me.
I can't really say that things have stagnated, even remotely. It's been huge change after huge change over the past couple of years! Basically, everything is different save for the "started a relationship" part - it's more "maintaining a relationship" now, thank goodness.
Well, what's new, you ask?
We, and I mean, the one and only, and I, have moved in together, twice! Not without repercussions, though. Surprisingly, our parents have been the emotional support through this process - amazing how their backing really made such a big difference in how this all turned out. All the bad stuff, unfortunately, came from a religious standpoint - and by religious, I mean religious. I had to make a choice back then - live with the boyfriend, or forsake leadership. Well, it's clear the choice I'd made. With no regrets. None whatsoever. However, I think the ripple effect of having to make that choice, not even the choice itself, really created this chasm within our spiritual life. Even now, after moving to another (grace-centred, loving, encouraging) church, we both still feel pieces of the guilt, the condemnation and the blame for having made that decision together. So much so, that when we have been approached by our current leaders to (I know, history does repeat itself) one day take their place, we are bogged down by the fear of all that guilt, condemnation and blame resurfacing. Perhaps it's a redemptive move God has up his sleeve - to cover the horrible past experience with one that was how it should have been.
What else is new?
Physio no longer became my passion. I know, fickle being that I am. One thing I'd realized only through working full time in public health, was that I did not remotely fit in to the culture of being a Physio. If I was being honest with myself, I'd given myself a fantasy with rehab and all these Physio-related dreams and goals only to, really, give myself dreams and goals. Physio has now simmered down to a less-than-part-time, part-time job and I have started teaching piano all the other hours instead! I will try to capture in words how liberated I'd felt since pursuing this career - it has been such a passion-driven, motivating and fulfilling journey. I cannot believe the bondage I'd put myself under, forced to fit in a spirit, an atmosphere that just did not agree with my soul.
I am now learning to learn without goals, without the pressure of exams, without an endpoint in sight. I am learning to be a better partner, a better person, a better member of the family.
It's really been such a crazy ride, but not for a minute would I trade my life for anyone else's.
How's life?
Life has been great.
xx
J
Things have changed since I'd last written - well, to summarize where I'd left off, I was experiencing massive changes in my life: Completed my Physio degree, got a full time job in a public hospital, started a relationship, started serving in church and took up a leadership role there - things that really stretched and stressed me.
I can't really say that things have stagnated, even remotely. It's been huge change after huge change over the past couple of years! Basically, everything is different save for the "started a relationship" part - it's more "maintaining a relationship" now, thank goodness.
Well, what's new, you ask?
We, and I mean, the one and only, and I, have moved in together, twice! Not without repercussions, though. Surprisingly, our parents have been the emotional support through this process - amazing how their backing really made such a big difference in how this all turned out. All the bad stuff, unfortunately, came from a religious standpoint - and by religious, I mean religious. I had to make a choice back then - live with the boyfriend, or forsake leadership. Well, it's clear the choice I'd made. With no regrets. None whatsoever. However, I think the ripple effect of having to make that choice, not even the choice itself, really created this chasm within our spiritual life. Even now, after moving to another (grace-centred, loving, encouraging) church, we both still feel pieces of the guilt, the condemnation and the blame for having made that decision together. So much so, that when we have been approached by our current leaders to (I know, history does repeat itself) one day take their place, we are bogged down by the fear of all that guilt, condemnation and blame resurfacing. Perhaps it's a redemptive move God has up his sleeve - to cover the horrible past experience with one that was how it should have been.
What else is new?
Physio no longer became my passion. I know, fickle being that I am. One thing I'd realized only through working full time in public health, was that I did not remotely fit in to the culture of being a Physio. If I was being honest with myself, I'd given myself a fantasy with rehab and all these Physio-related dreams and goals only to, really, give myself dreams and goals. Physio has now simmered down to a less-than-part-time, part-time job and I have started teaching piano all the other hours instead! I will try to capture in words how liberated I'd felt since pursuing this career - it has been such a passion-driven, motivating and fulfilling journey. I cannot believe the bondage I'd put myself under, forced to fit in a spirit, an atmosphere that just did not agree with my soul.
I am now learning to learn without goals, without the pressure of exams, without an endpoint in sight. I am learning to be a better partner, a better person, a better member of the family.
It's really been such a crazy ride, but not for a minute would I trade my life for anyone else's.
How's life?
Life has been great.
xx
J
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Tether
It's time to remember where you came from.
It's time to remind yourself not to stray too far.
Daddy's watching and he will protect you,
But he can't keep you on a tether.
He can't keep you from wading into the deep waters if you turn your back on him and keep on walking.
He stands still and watches at the seaside - it's really you who will move.
He is solid. He does not and will not budge.
In my new phase of life - being in a relationship, being in a demanding job,
I have strayed from my roots.
I have done things I am not proud of,
done things that I brush aside to dissipate the significance and the guilt.
I have lost a sense of me.
I have stopped protecting things that matter.
But, now, I am coming back to my father.
I am filling up, oh so slowly, with the peace and joy I have always once had.
I will get there.
We will get there.
It's time to dust off the dust,
clear your head, dry off your clothes.
It's time to tell yourself, he is bigger than you.
But that you yourself are nothing
Yet you are significant
You are nothing
Yet you are special
Because he made you
And he made us all.
It's time to remind yourself not to stray too far.
Daddy's watching and he will protect you,
But he can't keep you on a tether.
He can't keep you from wading into the deep waters if you turn your back on him and keep on walking.
He stands still and watches at the seaside - it's really you who will move.
He is solid. He does not and will not budge.
In my new phase of life - being in a relationship, being in a demanding job,
I have strayed from my roots.
I have done things I am not proud of,
done things that I brush aside to dissipate the significance and the guilt.
I have lost a sense of me.
I have stopped protecting things that matter.
But, now, I am coming back to my father.
I am filling up, oh so slowly, with the peace and joy I have always once had.
I will get there.
We will get there.
It's time to dust off the dust,
clear your head, dry off your clothes.
It's time to tell yourself, he is bigger than you.
But that you yourself are nothing
Yet you are significant
You are nothing
Yet you are special
Because he made you
And he made us all.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Here And There...and Back Again
Sometimes it's difficult to be where you want to be, or be who you want to be.
It's difficult to leave it up to someone bigger than you.
As much as I say I do, there's always a tiny reserved portion deep down inside that can't help obsessing
about what may or may not come out of it.
I know, being the person that I am or always have been,
I will end up alright if things just don't work out the way I want it to.
But I guess I'm saying it'd be hard not to feel disappointed if that was the case.
I know in some way or another I could attribute the good things or bad stuff to the big man upstairs.
Is that really me putting trust in Him?
Or is it just a cop out?
Am I merely shirking responsibility and evading harsh realities?
Or do I truly, truly, in all certainty, believe that my fate has been ordained by Him, that I have been born with such a purpose that He will help me get on whatever path takes me there?
I honestly don't know.
What I do know, though, is that I have been feeling very...compelled...towards doing certain things these past few days/weeks/months.
It's completely irrational and incomprehensible, the way I feel and have felt.
There's an urge to do things that are way beyond my comfort zone.
Taking up roles that I otherwise would not have.
Tithing x amount of money that I otherwise would not have given.
Getting jobs that I would not even have considered in the first place.
Applying for jobs that would have meant less income and more work.
Spending time with people I otherwise would not have given a second glance.
Lots of things happening around me.
In me.
And I pray to God that it doesn't become all about....stuff.
That as much as I'm doing what I'm doing and doing more than what I've been doing,
It never just amounts to just...doing stuff.
I need to remember
That it's all about you.
It's difficult to leave it up to someone bigger than you.
As much as I say I do, there's always a tiny reserved portion deep down inside that can't help obsessing
about what may or may not come out of it.
I know, being the person that I am or always have been,
I will end up alright if things just don't work out the way I want it to.
But I guess I'm saying it'd be hard not to feel disappointed if that was the case.
I know in some way or another I could attribute the good things or bad stuff to the big man upstairs.
Is that really me putting trust in Him?
Or is it just a cop out?
Am I merely shirking responsibility and evading harsh realities?
Or do I truly, truly, in all certainty, believe that my fate has been ordained by Him, that I have been born with such a purpose that He will help me get on whatever path takes me there?
I honestly don't know.
What I do know, though, is that I have been feeling very...compelled...towards doing certain things these past few days/weeks/months.
It's completely irrational and incomprehensible, the way I feel and have felt.
There's an urge to do things that are way beyond my comfort zone.
Taking up roles that I otherwise would not have.
Tithing x amount of money that I otherwise would not have given.
Getting jobs that I would not even have considered in the first place.
Applying for jobs that would have meant less income and more work.
Spending time with people I otherwise would not have given a second glance.
Lots of things happening around me.
In me.
And I pray to God that it doesn't become all about....stuff.
That as much as I'm doing what I'm doing and doing more than what I've been doing,
It never just amounts to just...doing stuff.
I need to remember
That it's all about you.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Gotta Remind Yourself
To live in the present.
There's no need to go away to the future, to dream of its possibilities... and its potential for failure.
Airy fairy head, please come back down to Kuching earth. Thank you.
There's no need to go away to the future, to dream of its possibilities... and its potential for failure.
Airy fairy head, please come back down to Kuching earth. Thank you.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Outlet
I know that's what you need. I know you just want people to listen. But, GOD, you are so full of anger and hatred sometimes it makes it so hard to even listen to you. What makes it worse is you even mock me when I do.
All I want from you and for you is patience and grace.
All I want from you and for you is patience and grace.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Hopeful optimist that I am
Just didn't get that hopeful, optimistic end to a perfectly shitty morning.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Brave Young Soul
I remember when I was 8 I was in one of my tuition classes (yup, good old days when tuition classes after school were the bane of my little life's existence) there was a girl sitting in the row in front of me. She had this super damn awesome looking ribbon in her hair and my friend and I were transfixed. We couldn't resist - we had to touch it.
So, there we were, sneakily reaching out to touch the unsuspecting girl's hair/ribbon, totally unbeknownst to the teacher...or so we thought. Needless to say the teacher caught on to our antics thanks to our little whispers and giggles. She whipped around all of a sudden and caught my friend in the act of extending her forearm to tickle the ribbon behind the other girl's head. My poor friend was promptly given the punishment of standing on her chair for the remainder of the class.
I was in a pickle.
I debated with myself whether or not to own up to my contribution and join my friend in her unfortunate demise or to stay silent since there was only half an hour left to the class, anyway.
Now this I remember very clearly. Somehow I plucked the courage to raise my hand and say...'teacher, I did it too' or maybe something along those lines in true broken Malaysian English. If I told you the teacher applauded me for my bravery and let us both off the hook I would be the greatest romantic in the world. The teacher gave no thought at all to the amount of internal conflict I'd faced in those 2 agonizing minutes but merely told me..'okay, you can stand too' haha. But let me tell you something, the look on my friend's face was priceless. Punishment is nothing if you have a friend to face it with you. Okay I wish this was the part where I say we became best friends forever and we always look back to this start of our fast friendship, but no. We enrolled in different classes the next year and lost touch ever since.
I'm getting a little lazy here so let me just wrap it up. Well, can't be bothered reading the above? I used to be a little brave soul who would face her fears and own up to something I'd done for the sake of a friend. I hope I still have at least a morsel of that person left, but I doubt it. O how age has made me nothing but a clucking chicken. End of story.
So, there we were, sneakily reaching out to touch the unsuspecting girl's hair/ribbon, totally unbeknownst to the teacher...or so we thought. Needless to say the teacher caught on to our antics thanks to our little whispers and giggles. She whipped around all of a sudden and caught my friend in the act of extending her forearm to tickle the ribbon behind the other girl's head. My poor friend was promptly given the punishment of standing on her chair for the remainder of the class.
I was in a pickle.
I debated with myself whether or not to own up to my contribution and join my friend in her unfortunate demise or to stay silent since there was only half an hour left to the class, anyway.
Now this I remember very clearly. Somehow I plucked the courage to raise my hand and say...'teacher, I did it too' or maybe something along those lines in true broken Malaysian English. If I told you the teacher applauded me for my bravery and let us both off the hook I would be the greatest romantic in the world. The teacher gave no thought at all to the amount of internal conflict I'd faced in those 2 agonizing minutes but merely told me..'okay, you can stand too' haha. But let me tell you something, the look on my friend's face was priceless. Punishment is nothing if you have a friend to face it with you. Okay I wish this was the part where I say we became best friends forever and we always look back to this start of our fast friendship, but no. We enrolled in different classes the next year and lost touch ever since.
I'm getting a little lazy here so let me just wrap it up. Well, can't be bothered reading the above? I used to be a little brave soul who would face her fears and own up to something I'd done for the sake of a friend. I hope I still have at least a morsel of that person left, but I doubt it. O how age has made me nothing but a clucking chicken. End of story.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Pillar of Salt
It's funny how the months have progressively gone by and not once have I looked back in regret. Reminds me of the story of Lot's wife turning into a pillar of salt as the family were escaping their forsaken city. I guess I'm not one to plague my mind with what if's or could have been's or would have been if's. Perhaps it's just easy for me to think this now when I've been through the worst; now that I'm walking on dry land instead of wading waist deep in mud. Maybe it's a coping mechanism where, in my mind I capture the positives out of a whole difficult situation, of how I'd managed through it and how I'd ultimately overcome something. Selective retrospect, it would seem. Guess that kinda helps, though...lets me know that I can get through most things, at least. And of course not without some mega external force who's been guiding me through every situation these months.
Aaaanyways, I had a little look through my previous posts throughout the year and some beyond, and it occurred to me just how many warning signs were flashing in my head; warning signs of how a certain something would be the most terrible idea in the world, and how it could have been avoided altogether. These warning signs might as well have been cow bells (for lack of a better analogy), cause you know what? In my oestrogen-filled being I just enjoyed the romantic notion of having someone flip 180 degrees just.for.you. I enjoyed the terrible plot of having someone discover something they'd been missing all along. Well, if you do too, you're bound head first in your crash to reality. Truth is, things just don't work out that way, because by the time someone's discovered what it is they're missing, they've completely blinded the other person with their selfish barbs and it's just too late to get what they now realize they want. And as far as I know, people don't change. Not completely, at least. And it takes a certain narcissist to want someone else to change for your sake; they might as well be circus animals performing tricks to suit your own ideals. I know I've done it before, changing myself for someone else. All I can say is, it's so much more fun when I am me.
But, well, at the end of it all I honestly feel I'd dodged a bullet, harsh as it may sound. I am in no way pointing the finger or expressing bitterness; it is just what it is. I had misled myself despite all those warning signs, and despite how things had snowballed, and nothing turned out to be the ending I'd wanted aaaall those months ago, I'm really glad I am where I am right now. It really is a good place to be in. I know the big guy upstairs has my best interest in mind, and perhaps that's what gets me through stuff.
Everything's fine and dandy, by the way. The tone of this post probably resulted from boredom and having too much time on my hands which needed some thinking to fill in!
Status: Deeply relaxed and utterly content :)
Aaaanyways, I had a little look through my previous posts throughout the year and some beyond, and it occurred to me just how many warning signs were flashing in my head; warning signs of how a certain something would be the most terrible idea in the world, and how it could have been avoided altogether. These warning signs might as well have been cow bells (for lack of a better analogy), cause you know what? In my oestrogen-filled being I just enjoyed the romantic notion of having someone flip 180 degrees just.for.you. I enjoyed the terrible plot of having someone discover something they'd been missing all along. Well, if you do too, you're bound head first in your crash to reality. Truth is, things just don't work out that way, because by the time someone's discovered what it is they're missing, they've completely blinded the other person with their selfish barbs and it's just too late to get what they now realize they want. And as far as I know, people don't change. Not completely, at least. And it takes a certain narcissist to want someone else to change for your sake; they might as well be circus animals performing tricks to suit your own ideals. I know I've done it before, changing myself for someone else. All I can say is, it's so much more fun when I am me.
But, well, at the end of it all I honestly feel I'd dodged a bullet, harsh as it may sound. I am in no way pointing the finger or expressing bitterness; it is just what it is. I had misled myself despite all those warning signs, and despite how things had snowballed, and nothing turned out to be the ending I'd wanted aaaall those months ago, I'm really glad I am where I am right now. It really is a good place to be in. I know the big guy upstairs has my best interest in mind, and perhaps that's what gets me through stuff.
Everything's fine and dandy, by the way. The tone of this post probably resulted from boredom and having too much time on my hands which needed some thinking to fill in!
Status: Deeply relaxed and utterly content :)
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Eventful Events
This year is nearing its end, and it really has been peppered with events that demand strength, patience and faith. And sacrifices.
In my bout of self-pity and of feeling sorry for the situation that is the dear mother's diagnosis, I think about how unfair it is that the sister and I have had to give up things that we care about. Sure, my "sacrifice" looks pale in comparison and most definitely the more trivial of the two, but the fact is that I had been dreaming of this day since its announcement (at which I had promptly marked it down in my calender in complete capitals and not just a few exclamation marks!) and had been fantasizing about how great a day it would be. Then I think of the sister and I feel so bad for her that her year probably did not turn out as she'd envisioned either, though she is the tougher and the braver of us two and she wouldn't spin this into a greater tragedy than it already is.
Then I carry on to think about how my transition years have been marked with things both unexpected and disappointing. The mother's great loss, which spiralled into a few months of miscommunication (if there was any at all) and frustration, became the hallmark of 2007 i.e. my final year in school, and the transition period between living at home and coming to Melbourne. And now, in my final year in uni, there's this.
This year I'd dealt with loss(es), disappointment, and bitterness. But the year has not been without gains, lessons and uplifting traits. I then realize that everything has been placed, perfectly timed, to help me deal with things as they come thrown at me from left and right. People have been placed in my life strategically to become my support. Through experience I have gained insight on how best to give the support that mum so clearly needs, and how to deal with her reactions when it comes to news like this (I was emotionally retarded 5 years ago [no, seriously], and I regret not having the maturity to have dealt with the situation better than it turned out then).
I think that what's happened now would determine the course of my life and become a year I look back and think to myself, this is why I'm doing what I'm doing. Just like it was 5 years ago. What had happened then had become a precursor to my choice and motivation in the following year to pursue this career and what I intend to do with my future. What has happened, and is continuing to happen now, would probably affect my decisions on who how when why in the years to come. Every eventful event motivates a cascade of reactions, and despite the negative thoughts and feelings that surface from time to time, it's been a journey that shows me I am capable of being strong, patient, and faithful. And making sacrifices. It tests the strength of our family unit, which, I am proud to say, is passing with flying colours (I hope I'm not being delusional).
Well, I'm pretty sure everything would turn out alright. Eventually.
In my bout of self-pity and of feeling sorry for the situation that is the dear mother's diagnosis, I think about how unfair it is that the sister and I have had to give up things that we care about. Sure, my "sacrifice" looks pale in comparison and most definitely the more trivial of the two, but the fact is that I had been dreaming of this day since its announcement (at which I had promptly marked it down in my calender in complete capitals and not just a few exclamation marks!) and had been fantasizing about how great a day it would be. Then I think of the sister and I feel so bad for her that her year probably did not turn out as she'd envisioned either, though she is the tougher and the braver of us two and she wouldn't spin this into a greater tragedy than it already is.
Then I carry on to think about how my transition years have been marked with things both unexpected and disappointing. The mother's great loss, which spiralled into a few months of miscommunication (if there was any at all) and frustration, became the hallmark of 2007 i.e. my final year in school, and the transition period between living at home and coming to Melbourne. And now, in my final year in uni, there's this.
This year I'd dealt with loss(es), disappointment, and bitterness. But the year has not been without gains, lessons and uplifting traits. I then realize that everything has been placed, perfectly timed, to help me deal with things as they come thrown at me from left and right. People have been placed in my life strategically to become my support. Through experience I have gained insight on how best to give the support that mum so clearly needs, and how to deal with her reactions when it comes to news like this (I was emotionally retarded 5 years ago [no, seriously], and I regret not having the maturity to have dealt with the situation better than it turned out then).
I think that what's happened now would determine the course of my life and become a year I look back and think to myself, this is why I'm doing what I'm doing. Just like it was 5 years ago. What had happened then had become a precursor to my choice and motivation in the following year to pursue this career and what I intend to do with my future. What has happened, and is continuing to happen now, would probably affect my decisions on who how when why in the years to come. Every eventful event motivates a cascade of reactions, and despite the negative thoughts and feelings that surface from time to time, it's been a journey that shows me I am capable of being strong, patient, and faithful. And making sacrifices. It tests the strength of our family unit, which, I am proud to say, is passing with flying colours (I hope I'm not being delusional).
Well, I'm pretty sure everything would turn out alright. Eventually.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Never Ever Have I...
Had such a suchasuchasuchasucha strong urge to
TRAVEL SOMEWHERE.
My eyes are roaming, my mind is flitting from place to place to place
I want to go on a lovely adventure.
How I just wish a rainbow could just land on my doorstep :(
Monday, July 23, 2012
Mountainous Retreat
Last weekend the family (in-laws included) spent some much-needed quality time on the snow-capped mountain for some much-needed stress relief and exercise (I call it my exercise for the month year, and I stand by this claim).
Goodness me, who could EVER feel encumbered by the crushing weight of obligation, stress or work when you wake up to such a view in the morning? (ref picture below) As I finally managed to pick up the bare basics of manoeuvring on the blasted snowboard after my first attempt which included falling (not boarding) all the way from the top to the bottom, I just felt so...free. Part of learning how to board was just to let.it.be, and to trust that my body has got this covered. Pretty amazing stuff there!
Doubtless the weekend away from home did me good. I think the same can be said for the others. Unfortunately, Sunday rolled around pretty quickly. We came and we went...Back to home it was, said time :(
The only things remaining from our then-anticipated trip are our lovely, lovely pictures, and the crazy aching of my muscles protesting over the strenuous act of picking my bottom off the snow time and time (and time) again.
Sigh, I miss it already.
DEFINITELY a trip worth repeating! I'm already anticipating our next weekend getaway...
p.s. thanks for the cool driving, Cwee!
p.p.s. I am sooo addicted to this collage-making app thingy I'd just downloaded yest (if you haven't yet noticed :p)
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Ohm
So, here's what went down last night. I came home from clinics, dead tired from running on 2 hours'sleep the night before, washed my feet, pinned up my hair, got changed, studied the map of my newest fantasy fixation that is the Seven Kingdoms in the Game of Thrones, and drove off to the city for my 1 and a half hour long Yoga session.
Boy, oh boy, was it worth it.
I went in with all of my sulkiness and just full on sleepiness, and came out refreshed, energized, rosy-cheeked...happy. During the session there were times when the instructor's zen-like and patient voice infuriated me cause all I wanted to do was go home and lie in bed, not do the downward facing dog a million other ways, but looking back I probably felt better than I ever would lying in bed.
The theme of last night's class was being in the moment and enjoying progress. We spend too much plotting our goals, she says. Too much of looking at where we want to be and leaving ourselves in a position of lack. Our lives are always progressing; we are never static. It is too precious not to enjoy our constant progress. And that's why we did the downward facing dog a million other ways - they were progressions to an otherwise static pose. But then again when we ever tried to hold a pose, we never really were still. The wobbles and the shakes were, as she said, exactly where we needed to be to have progress. Wobbles and shakes are sort of equated to anger, frustration, despair. Sounds very cliched, but definitely not something emphasized enough it seems.
So she went on to say, while I was on my back doing the ultimate failure of a Hamstring stretch (I can't get my leg past 100 degrees), that in order to always feel fulfilled and to take yourself away from feeling lacking, why not make smaller goals for yourself so you'd always feel satisfied? It's true, isn't it? We reach for the sky and beyond, we want the moon and everything in between. It's an endless chase. So. Say...you're a lazy bum and your goal is to be the picture of health and have glowing embers for cheeks. Well. Stepping out the front door could be a very nice, achievable goal. Pat yourself on the back. Walk to the neighbour's house and back. Another pat on the back. Don't sit down immediately. Amazing. There you go, impossible to feel like a failure now, huh? Okay, I'm kinda mocking her now, but you know what I mean.
Yoga aside, I'd just passed my musc placement! :) 3 blocks down, 3 to go. Whew, it's gonna be a loooong 6 months. I will be trying, other than pass my placements, to enjoy them as I go. Enjoy the progress, right? I guess academically I'm actually doing as she says. I aim for 50 in all of my subjects. Well, that's the bare minimum. Maybe that's why I'm always happy with my shit marks. Making me a happier person who is not living in lack! That's my silver lining. And my excuse.
So, my status right now? ...I am happy. And I am grateful.
Boy, oh boy, was it worth it.
I went in with all of my sulkiness and just full on sleepiness, and came out refreshed, energized, rosy-cheeked...happy. During the session there were times when the instructor's zen-like and patient voice infuriated me cause all I wanted to do was go home and lie in bed, not do the downward facing dog a million other ways, but looking back I probably felt better than I ever would lying in bed.
The theme of last night's class was being in the moment and enjoying progress. We spend too much plotting our goals, she says. Too much of looking at where we want to be and leaving ourselves in a position of lack. Our lives are always progressing; we are never static. It is too precious not to enjoy our constant progress. And that's why we did the downward facing dog a million other ways - they were progressions to an otherwise static pose. But then again when we ever tried to hold a pose, we never really were still. The wobbles and the shakes were, as she said, exactly where we needed to be to have progress. Wobbles and shakes are sort of equated to anger, frustration, despair. Sounds very cliched, but definitely not something emphasized enough it seems.
So she went on to say, while I was on my back doing the ultimate failure of a Hamstring stretch (I can't get my leg past 100 degrees), that in order to always feel fulfilled and to take yourself away from feeling lacking, why not make smaller goals for yourself so you'd always feel satisfied? It's true, isn't it? We reach for the sky and beyond, we want the moon and everything in between. It's an endless chase. So. Say...you're a lazy bum and your goal is to be the picture of health and have glowing embers for cheeks. Well. Stepping out the front door could be a very nice, achievable goal. Pat yourself on the back. Walk to the neighbour's house and back. Another pat on the back. Don't sit down immediately. Amazing. There you go, impossible to feel like a failure now, huh? Okay, I'm kinda mocking her now, but you know what I mean.
Yoga aside, I'd just passed my musc placement! :) 3 blocks down, 3 to go. Whew, it's gonna be a loooong 6 months. I will be trying, other than pass my placements, to enjoy them as I go. Enjoy the progress, right? I guess academically I'm actually doing as she says. I aim for 50 in all of my subjects. Well, that's the bare minimum. Maybe that's why I'm always happy with my shit marks. Making me a happier person who is not living in lack! That's my silver lining. And my excuse.
So, my status right now? ...I am happy. And I am grateful.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
June Barcarole
She stumbled, footstep by footstep, toward the door. Weakened by her desire to have a glance, just one glance, of her oh so proclaimed beauty, she scuffled across the cold cement floor.
This is the story of a girl bound by vanity, a slave to jealousy, embalmed by dreams of being sought after; of being an object of envy and of desire; of being an instigator of insecurity.
This is the story of a girl who was born into this world with a face so maimed and so utterly distasteful the midwives who delivered her from her mother's womb crossed themselves before they dared lay a hand upon her for washing. This is the story of a girl who also had been, very ironically so, favoured by the hands of fate, so that she might come across a modern-day alchemist so skilful he was able to create a modern-day panacea, the perfect solution in her quest for beauty.
What was brought to life by the hands of this modern-day alchemist was by no means a quick and easy feat. It took the girl days, months, years of patience and keeping the faith in his promises; it took him days, months, years of fixing his gaze upon the prize of his labour. It was a curious thing, but for the discretion of the girl in question, and the dignity of this modern-day alchemist, the terms of their agreement shall not be disclosed.
The solution that came from the modern-day alchemist was a substance so pure it perfected her flawed features, but most of all, it encased her face in a thin crust of porcelain, so that she might have skin that could make her an object of envy and of desire, and she could be an instigator of insecurity in the women around her. The only catch, oh, and there was a catch, was that she could never ever catch a reflection of herself, inadvertent or purposeful, lest she face its most dire consequence, which she herself was not fully aware of.
The first few weeks came and went easily: she had her maids remove all mirrors, draw all curtains so that she appeared to be a modern-day vampire (if they ever existed at all), but she did not mind that at the very least. Better to be named a Dracula than a Quasimodo, she thought. Those first few weeks she had felt so on top of the world. Everywhere she went she had followers, admirers, wishing to take her hand for a one-night-stand. Everywhere she went, heads turned, and whispers and envious eyes tracked her every move. She felt, for once in her life, pretty.
Thence came that one fateful day, as the girl was busying herself in a windowless flower shop, searching for the most beautiful, perfect flowers to match her most beautiful, perfect face, when the dark clouds drew in and the sky started rumbling and the pitter-patter of raindrops became a downpour so heavy the unsuspecting pedestrians thought they were having a shower under the Niagara Falls. It was on this one fateful day when the girl slipped and fell as she exited the windowless flower shop and found herself face first in a puddle of rainwater. No, her face did not crack or break from the fall. Her face did crack, though, from her instinctive gathering herself up, causing her to catch an inadvertent glance of her reflection in the water. The consequence of that was not dire, however. That little gash was out of pure luck situated beneath her chin, and measured just a centimetre long, no less, but trust the girl to exaggerate in her mind the size of it. She ran home, crying, feeling with her fingers the crack in her no-longer-perfect porcelain skin, refusing to let anyone see her with what she thought was a big gash across her face.
And so it began that the girl barricaded herself in a cell of her own device, afraid even to step out the front door lest she saw herself without warning again. With the growing onset of agoraphobia, the girl spent more and more time within the confinement of her mind, often times staring into space, recalling by force that flicker of an image of her face in the rainwater. She grew evermore obsessed - much, much more than before. She had to see herself, even for another flicker of a second. She just had to.
And so, here she was, stumbling footstep by footstep toward the door, weakened by her desire to have a glance, just one glance, of her oh so proclaimed beauty as she scuffled across the cold cement floor. She was a crazed woman, a mad woman, eyes dancing wild, puffy and red, as she mustered her last remaining morsel of courage. She flung the door open and was greeted by a large, gilded free-standing mirror hiding intentionally in her closet. She stood there, staring at the reflection of herself, unable even to admire her perfection as the little gash beneath her chin became not so little any more, growing and growing in length across her face as if it had a life of its own. Soon enough, the gashes turned to chunks of flesh falling off the bones, but still she could not peel her eyes away as if possessed, and not long after, they did.
This is the story of a girl who was bound by vanity, enslaved by jealousy, and, at the end of it all, embalmed without a head.
This is the story of a girl bound by vanity, a slave to jealousy, embalmed by dreams of being sought after; of being an object of envy and of desire; of being an instigator of insecurity.
This is the story of a girl who was born into this world with a face so maimed and so utterly distasteful the midwives who delivered her from her mother's womb crossed themselves before they dared lay a hand upon her for washing. This is the story of a girl who also had been, very ironically so, favoured by the hands of fate, so that she might come across a modern-day alchemist so skilful he was able to create a modern-day panacea, the perfect solution in her quest for beauty.
What was brought to life by the hands of this modern-day alchemist was by no means a quick and easy feat. It took the girl days, months, years of patience and keeping the faith in his promises; it took him days, months, years of fixing his gaze upon the prize of his labour. It was a curious thing, but for the discretion of the girl in question, and the dignity of this modern-day alchemist, the terms of their agreement shall not be disclosed.
The solution that came from the modern-day alchemist was a substance so pure it perfected her flawed features, but most of all, it encased her face in a thin crust of porcelain, so that she might have skin that could make her an object of envy and of desire, and she could be an instigator of insecurity in the women around her. The only catch, oh, and there was a catch, was that she could never ever catch a reflection of herself, inadvertent or purposeful, lest she face its most dire consequence, which she herself was not fully aware of.
The first few weeks came and went easily: she had her maids remove all mirrors, draw all curtains so that she appeared to be a modern-day vampire (if they ever existed at all), but she did not mind that at the very least. Better to be named a Dracula than a Quasimodo, she thought. Those first few weeks she had felt so on top of the world. Everywhere she went she had followers, admirers, wishing to take her hand for a one-night-stand. Everywhere she went, heads turned, and whispers and envious eyes tracked her every move. She felt, for once in her life, pretty.
Thence came that one fateful day, as the girl was busying herself in a windowless flower shop, searching for the most beautiful, perfect flowers to match her most beautiful, perfect face, when the dark clouds drew in and the sky started rumbling and the pitter-patter of raindrops became a downpour so heavy the unsuspecting pedestrians thought they were having a shower under the Niagara Falls. It was on this one fateful day when the girl slipped and fell as she exited the windowless flower shop and found herself face first in a puddle of rainwater. No, her face did not crack or break from the fall. Her face did crack, though, from her instinctive gathering herself up, causing her to catch an inadvertent glance of her reflection in the water. The consequence of that was not dire, however. That little gash was out of pure luck situated beneath her chin, and measured just a centimetre long, no less, but trust the girl to exaggerate in her mind the size of it. She ran home, crying, feeling with her fingers the crack in her no-longer-perfect porcelain skin, refusing to let anyone see her with what she thought was a big gash across her face.
And so it began that the girl barricaded herself in a cell of her own device, afraid even to step out the front door lest she saw herself without warning again. With the growing onset of agoraphobia, the girl spent more and more time within the confinement of her mind, often times staring into space, recalling by force that flicker of an image of her face in the rainwater. She grew evermore obsessed - much, much more than before. She had to see herself, even for another flicker of a second. She just had to.
And so, here she was, stumbling footstep by footstep toward the door, weakened by her desire to have a glance, just one glance, of her oh so proclaimed beauty as she scuffled across the cold cement floor. She was a crazed woman, a mad woman, eyes dancing wild, puffy and red, as she mustered her last remaining morsel of courage. She flung the door open and was greeted by a large, gilded free-standing mirror hiding intentionally in her closet. She stood there, staring at the reflection of herself, unable even to admire her perfection as the little gash beneath her chin became not so little any more, growing and growing in length across her face as if it had a life of its own. Soon enough, the gashes turned to chunks of flesh falling off the bones, but still she could not peel her eyes away as if possessed, and not long after, they did.
This is the story of a girl who was bound by vanity, enslaved by jealousy, and, at the end of it all, embalmed without a head.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Wavering Resolve
"Bob the builder, CAN. YOU. FIX. IT?"
"No, I can't"
Sorry to disappoint, kids, but unfortunately I am merely an imposter.
But I sure as hell can't help myself from trying.
Thanks for the perfect analogy, you.
"No, I can't"
Sorry to disappoint, kids, but unfortunately I am merely an imposter.
But I sure as hell can't help myself from trying.
Thanks for the perfect analogy, you.
Monday, May 14, 2012
The Big 'D'
Perhaps I've put too much faith in the human race. Or, more specifically, in the alphabetically varied gene pool.
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