The Haunting

As she leans in to caress my cheek,
She tenderly grazes my lips
And slowly, deeply breathes me in.
She presses her small hands to my stomach
To let me know she is there - and I am safe
And I think, she is goodness personified.

She is my first thought, my first breath
And my constant moon each night.
She is the one I dream of and dream with,
Whose dreams have become intertwined with my own.
And when I look into myself and all that I am,
I see her, my greatest feat of love.

I happily drift to a familiar place,
Wrapped in warmth and the lightness of her touch.
I trace the curves of her face, her shoulders, her hips
Probing and wanting so much on this wintry morning
Only to wake in despair that another season has passed
And as the moon wanes with certainty, so is she lost to me.

On Reflection

"There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered."

- Nelson Mandela, A Long Walk To Freedom

True friends have a way of seeing you as you are in the present -- minus the frills and the pretense. They understand where you've been and perhaps the role they played in helping you get here. They also believe in the person you're capable of being, even before you knew that person existed. Sometimes, they're your mirror and in them, you see the best version of yourself.

On Perspective

Strangers collide everyday in the crowd but there isn't always a connection. We keep moving though and make introductions along the way. We graciously seek, often not knowing who or what lies ahead. Light of heart and quick of feet, we travel with a handful of luck and a handful of hope. Patience steadies us. Humility humbles us. Free will guides us.

Every now and then, a stranger compels us to take pause and reach out despite unfavorable odds or less than ideal circumstances. The crowd swirls around you and you simply try your best to hold your ground and unearth the stranger. You drown out the noise until all that remains is a whisper.

Every now and then, you stumble and a kind stranger breaks your fall. You exchange a touch but not what lives in the smallest corners of your mind. The encounter is sweet but short-lived, and you do not seek more.

We cannot command the crowd or the frenzied pace at which it moves. We accept that these collisions, while inevitable, are also a product of chance. We relish the experience, the feeling, the moment. We are thankful for it all because even if the connection is fleeting or flawed, the stranger's impression remains with us. And though we may walk away heavy of heart, we are also enriched by the stranger - a fellow seeker who found us among the crowd and gave freely without regret or promise.

A Poem of Friendship

We are not lovers
because of the love
we make
but the love
we have

We are not friends
because of the laughs
we spend
but the tears
we save

I don't want to be near you
for the thoughts we share
but the words we never have
to speak

I will never miss you
because of what we do
but what we are
together

-Nikki Giovanni

Happy birthday, girls : )

Clarity

It seems to have been a week of major upsets. Things didn't work out for J. Things doubly didn't work out for P. And yet, they are coping far better than another would in their situations. Perhaps the male mindset really works differently. I imagine it's not easy to appear vulnerable, even in front of gal pals. But something tells me they already have a gameplan and will be okay with whatever the morning after brings.

Bad things happen to good people. I accept that fact of life. But it's tough being an observer. I wish I had better advice to offer or even some answers, but I suppose comforting words (and a beer) will have to do for now.

I heard myself telling J/P to give himself time to gain a fresh perspective and greater clarity on the situation. While I believe in the present and in creating our own opportunities, I also believe that sometimes answers can only reveal itself in time. It can be a painful waiting game, but it also can be very telling and essential to the healing process.

I used to tell A that no man is an island. With good friends in life, no (wo)man should linger in solitude or despair.

I've heard that love makes a man weak.
It puts butterflies in his stomach,
Music in his heart,
And bounce in his stride.
His face gleams with pride
And his smile shines true.
Happiness overcomes him.
Visions of Her cloud his mind.
Love puts ache in his bones
And fire in his soul.
I've heard that love makes a man.

9/14/00

the small things....

*Walking in the rain
*Trusting your instincts
*Recognizing coincidences
*Sleeping in
*Seeing children laugh
*Smiling at strangers
*Eating to your heart's content
*Reveling in night
*Dreaming in color
*Embracing your wild streak
*Speaking your mind
*Enjoying the silence
*Traveling near and far
*Being a kid at heart
*Believing in everyday marvels
*Following the moon and stars
*Keeping others' secrets
*Taking a deep breath
*Standing still

And one not-so-small thing (quoting GB quoting another): loving the one you're with.

I see a pattern developing. V is now the fifth friend to tell me that I'm a man when it comes to showing emotion and being emotional. Apparently, I'm an anomaly. Where most women may react to stressful situations with free flowing emotion, I remain calm and collected (in most cases). Short of being called a tin man or a robot (both of which I'm not), I can't think of another comparison for my "man" behavior. In truth, I don't deny this claim, but I can't really help the way I'm wired. And I don't think I should have to change what's natural to me. I've made it this far in life and I think I'm a fairly stable person. At the same time, my friends also know me as a sentimental person. I know this too. I knew it when I was in grade school.

Then again, what man would write about feelings and sentiments? So I spare someone a cry or awkward outburst. Maybe it's an act of kindness. Maybe I'm strangely unique. What's important to me is that I'm in touch with my feelings and deeply passionate about people and things that matter most to me. For better or worse, I'm just me.

Bday

Handsome told me to hold on to my twenties. Hold on to them for dear life? Perhaps. But then again, I've never quite felt my real age nor dwelled on the number. I've always known myself to be an old soul and a kid at heart. So instead of counting time that has gone by, I try to measure myself in terms of self-improvement and happiness.

Years ago, I was in a card shop browsing their selection of keepsakes. A few vases caught my eye, partly because I'm obsessed with any and all containers and partly because one was imprinted with the words "be happy." I thought it was a simple and inspiring mantra. It was also a gentle reminder to myself about what is important in life -- to find happiness in everything I pursue.

The questions I often ask myself - am I the best person I can be, am I unequivocally kind to those I know and love, am I creating and recognizing opportunities - begin and end with happiness. I'm happy when I find time to reflect and indulge in introspection. I'm happy to meet new people and experience new things and places. I'm happiest when I learn and can share learnings with others.

I know I still have a lot to learn and experience, but luckily, my timeline is my own. I'm a work in progress and I accept that. And with that knowledge, I intend to chase happiness with all of the conviction and passion that life experience brings.

Two

An old but inspiring email chain between two strangers (back in the days when social networking sites were just taking shape)....

----- Original Message:

inevitably, i've placed myself at somewhat of an impasse...you see, i wish to tell you something genuine about all of what your page says to, about and for you and how that has in some very real way spoken to me...i suppose it was because much of it has been spoken before from the lips of my own thoughts...for that i will smile the smile of certainty ...the inward grin one makes when one has stumbled upon a great secret of the universe...i've come back to a place where i reaffirm that the few who do exist, do so with a vibrancy and dynamism befitting of the word living....as strawberry to passion, so too are you and awareness, thanks for the smile...

-PS

‡

I think we all have a need to project and express ourselves on a blank canvas in order to catch a glimpse of ourselves that we would otherwise miss. I suppose I filled my page with those words and pictures with the knowledge that I would retain a certain and yet uncertain anonymity. I often think I know myself, but sometimes, I don't really form an opinion until I see myself through another's eyes. Thank you for that glimpse of self and blind faith.

smiling back,
K

One

August 1. V and I had an interesting conversation last night. Perhaps it was our tapas and sangria induced state, or simply an outpouring of thoughts we had kept so close to the vest, but it was good food for thought.

People move on, move away and grow apart. At the end of the day, it's those around you that matter most. Whether there in body or spirit, they understand you and love you unconditionally for who you are, and not what you can do for them. Maybe it's a quality few or one. It's a conscious decision and a conscious effort in who you let in. And if you're fortunate enough to choose wisely, they accept the invitation and stay indefinitely.

Wanderlust

I remember the trip quite vividly. It was my first time backpacking in the foothills of the English countryside. We had no real itinerary, just a map in our hands and an open ticket. We saw so many amazing places and often reveled in silence together. It was a bittersweet time because it was a trip with an impending goodbye. It was also a happy time for me because I was traveling and exploring places where natural beauty was wildly abundant and untouched by time (some even traversed by Tolkien himself).

It's probably silly of me to think about it now, but I was reminded of that wrinkle in time by my wallpaper photo (of all things). The landmark we were supposed to see was closed for the evening, so we improvised and explored around it, over it and under it. It was a decent hike to the top of the cliff, and well worth it. We were the only two people there. With clear blue skies, we could see stretches of land and sea for miles in all directions. We saw the tip of France.

As much as it was a trip of two, it was also a trip of one. Despite an initial travel mishap and being stranded in London alone, jetlagged and dragging 45 pounds of dead weight, I decided to embrace the experience. By plane, train, bus and foot, I traveled to the point of exhaustion, but my brain was wide awake. My senses were always stimulated, yet tapped into a sort of calm that only happens when one's heart is happy and contentedly full.

It was a trip with purpose. I became a wanderer and a seeker. I walked away with a renewed sense of purpose, self knowledge and spirit. And with every trip thereafter, that knowledge continues to unfold. The heart is fed. The spirit is awakened.

V-squared

I love how two seemingly similar people can be so different. They spent their formative years together in college and from what I understand, they shared some turbulent, eye-opening and wild times. That's part of the colorful story best friends should tell. They influenced one another in all the ways that count and supported each other through hard times.

I didn't have the pleasure of knowing them back then, but I'm honored to know the dynamic duo today. They're both strong, smart, savvy women who know what they want and never hesitate to go after it. They're gutsy, shameless and spontaneous. They have the ability to make me laugh and cry with one sentiment, a warm gaze or just a smile.

V-squared can also be described as two sides of the same coin. V says one thing and Q says another. No one is wrong -- they just usually offer two distinct viewpoints. For me, it's not all that surprising. I tend to think like them, so when they offer advice, it's like listening to myself weigh both sides of the argument. It's hearing my own conscience telling me I should, but then I shouldn't...

They are my collective voice of reason. More often than not, they are life coaches who dish wisdom, spot-on advice and raw honesty. They keep me sane when I feel like giving in or giving up. They remind me (without fail) that I'm special and to believe in myself. They don't tell me what I want to hear, but rather what I need to hear. They invited me to play Miranda. They appreciate and commend my sarcasm. They minted the loin cloth and "sweat be gone" jokes.

They're my dynamic duo.

Mrs. Julia Chin

Ever since we met in kindergarten, Joo Yong has been a best friend and sister to me, and someone I will know and cherish for all my life. She's someone who gives with her entire heart, always sees the best in people and cares deeply for those around her. We often joke that even from our rocking chairs - 50 years from now - we'll still be laughing and talking for hours like things have never changed, and with Joo Yong, I know it's true because that's the kind of special person she is. Today is somewhat bittersweet for me, not because I'm letting go of that image of us 50 years from now, but because I'm officially seeing my best friend off tonight to begin a new journey and chapter of life. It's certainly not an easy thing to do, but I'm reassured because I know I'm leaving her in good hands with Ronald - someone who truly gets her, makes her smile on the inside and out, and I know, will cherish her for all his life.

6.22.08

On Subtraction

11,923 is the estimated number of random strangers I've "bumped into" over the last year.
5,091 is the number of MP3's I stash on my hard drive.
3,200 is the number of stickers I owned and collected in early grade school.
400 is the number of CDs I own.
300 is the number of books I own.
165 is the number of human pounds I've physically lifted off the ground.
67 is the number of vertical inches I command.
49 is the number of poems I've written.
38 is the number of shoes I keep in rotation (more or less).
24 is the number of years I've known my oldest and dearest friend.
13 is the number of journals I've kept over the years.
10 is the number of countries I've visited in my quest to see the world.
9 is the number of foods I'm allergic to (and of course, enjoy eating).
8 is the number of times I've been to a house of faith.
8 is also the greatest number of inches of hair I've ever cut at once.
7 is my chosen lucky number.
6 is the number of jobs I've had since graduating college.
3 is the number of wisdom teeth I still have (but not for long).
2 is the number of siblings I have (yay for the middle child).
1 2 is the number of boys I've honestly loved.
1 is also the number of times I've ever been seriously injured.
0 is the number of times I'm willing to compromise my beliefs.

On Hope

Her world came crashing down in that moment of discovery. Fourteen years whittled down to five months of ignorance and agony. When the truth broke, her faith was broken too. Things fall apart. People fall apart. But I worried - how would she move beyond the pain and deception to gather herself and become whole again? It seemed her only misdeed was perhaps trusting too much and loving with her whole heart. He broke her faith in love, truth and kindness. It seemed that nothing was truly sacred. If fourteen years together didn't equate to trust, surely it would take her that much longer to regain trust in goodness. In people. In listening to her instincts. In following her heart.

A year has now passed since that devastating day. It was a terrible lesson for her to learn about love and self. It was also her greatest lesson in loss. But somehow, she steadied herself in time and began the recovery process. She opened herself up to possibilities and little by little, began to imagine Happiness. In the process, she is redefining what happiness is for her and finding her way back to Faith. She is learning to trust again and embracing the idea of Love, which is slowly revealing itself again in the familiar and the new.

She is what I think of when I imagine goodness. She has shown me that life doesn't pause despite the most piercing circumstances. She has taught me that when things falls apart, a new will can be built in its place and it can be stronger than we ever imagined. In her unknowing example, she has taught me the greatest lesson in Hope.

On Memory

The wheels in my mind are always turning, and I realized as I was showering (and thinking of course) that the majority of my thoughts are replays of memories. My memory is always firing off images, faces, names, places...it's stuck on shuffle. More often than not, I experience total recall, which can be a blessing and a curse. I rarely forget names or faces. Some strangers become familiars. Smells, no matter how faint or subtle, are rapidly logged in my brain. Feelings are etched in my memory. Moments - both insignificant and special, comprise my mental photo album. I remember where I left things years after I've tucked them away and I rarely forget conversations (maybe to the point of being obnoxious).

I remember running and discovering that I (at age 8) was faster than I thought. I remember scraping my knees and being scolded for running too fast, too aimlessly. I remember the distinct smell of baby powder on my baby brother's skin. I remember his fierce temper and arguing with him like we were mortal enemies. I remember the smell of English roses in our backyard. I remember the smell of incense at my grandmother's funeral. I remember how special I felt when he remembered - and surprised me with - my favorite birthday cake. I remember our goodbye at the airport and sensing it would be our last. I remember snorkeling for the first time and being amazed by everything I saw. I remember swimming too far out and doubling back because I really couldn't swim. I remember discovering Love and fighting for it countless times. I remember letting it go because it was time and I was not the same person anymore.

Sometimes, I think I remember too much for my own good. I seem to be incapable of editing. But first and foremost, I remember who I am and who I want to be, despite temptations, mis-steps and distractions. Memories guide me, ground me and inform me. After all, forgetting would be tragic, if not difficult.

On Sadness

It's a frown disguised as a contented smile
And a normalcy hiding wild irrationality.
It's the mind's daily lamentations
Revealed through the eyes as a singular sorrow.
It's standing at the brink of indifference
Only to be rescued by unwavering despair.
It's a weakness with a firm grip on one's being
And a weight that sits with you like an old friend.
It's mourning something that was but is no longer
And a secret longing in the hollows of one's soul.
It's a black dust that settles into the ruby heart
And a hurt that fills the body to the brim.
It's unspoken devastation revealing itself in pieces
And a fragile memory that haunts us as a waking dream.
It's knowing and not knowing truth
And wanting not to want what is past.
It's falling, falling down
And falling apart.

P.S.

We don't see things as they are; we see things as we are.
-Anais Nin

I think this quote is very fitting for the feel of the new year. It holds a lot of raw honesty and meaning that I think we tend to overlook. It's often easy to say that we have impartial and untainted views of the people and things around us, but how often do we truly understand and capture what is there and not just what we want to see? We all hold unique opinions about everything under the sun; these thoughts are born from our natural inclinations, personalities, and what we have chosen to incorporate from social influences around us. We can only attempt to get closer to understanding what is really before us by considering all viewpoints and even thinking outside of ourselves. This is how I would like to approach the new year - with a larger sense of my environment, a deeper understanding of people and a greater appreciation for everything that I value in life. With a new year comes re-evaluation of self and surroundings and hopefully, peace of mind.

From January 2003. Some things don't change.

Rewind

I woke up just in time to see the sun begin to set over the East River. I guess one could say I slept in. I blame last night and my own vices. It was 2am and I could have called it a night but I figured I was floating between 2007 and 2008, so time didn't really mean anything at that point, i.e. I should keep going. Time would stand still, at least for one night. Yes, it was quite a drunken mess out there and I ended the night with two bruised wrists, but it was time I wouldn't have again. No regrets, and importantly, no hangover. With the new year upon us, it's an opportunity to reset and re-engage -- to look forward to the days ahead of me and not count the days behind me. It's a new benchmark with which to measure experiences, successes and discoveries. And ideally, it's 365 opportunities to create colorful, defining moments that will stay with us for years to come.

Notes to self: work hard and play nice. don't neglect the important things. every so often, take the long way. follow your heart. go to bed earlier. cook more. worry less. cultivate meaningful friendships. see the glass half full. indulge once in a while. remain open to opportunities. be mindful of toxic friends. laugh as often as possible. exchange smiles with strangers. think happy thoughts. stay faithful to mini-skirts. clean out closets. visit Britton. be health smart. choose battles wisely. trust your instincts. always always be true to yourself. write when inspired. appreciate solace. take better care of self. just breathe. in the end, all will be well...again. repeat.

Happy 2008.